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Several Stories, No Threads

11/8/2015

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Life is the stories you can tell.   Yes?  YES!!!!   I’ve many stories to tell this week.   There is no commonality to them other than that they are all stories and, I guess, that they all involve me in some way.   Don’t search for a theme or a thread.  Just enjoy.
 
 
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Marjorie and Company stopped at our home last Thursday.   Marjorie, Jason, Lanae, and Aliza continued on to Rexburg to secure housing for Lanae’s sojourn at BYU-I.   The rest of the “and Company” (James, Spencer, Jacob, and Clarisse) stayed with me.    Friday afternoon, seeking to save the children from the brain damage they sought to inflict on themselves (“Can we watch a show Aunt Teresa?”), I took them to Ogden’s new high adventure park (located on the Ogden River Parkway on Grant St.)   On the way there, we passed a sign that said “Grand Opening, 4:30-8:30”. 
 
The Park was great but the weather was not.   The kids scampered over all the ten geometric configurations—structures so perfect for little boys that they could have been created by Peter Pan—but frigid fingers and spasmodic shivering cut their play time short.
 
Sightings of an inflatable slide, sounds of band music, and hopes of free fun drew into a side street next to the “Grand Opening” sign. The same cool weather that chased us from the park prevented prospective celebrants from enjoying the advertised activities so we had the parking lot almost to ourselves; we were seven of crowd of 15.    The lines were short to non-existent and free activities well worth the lines we did not wait in.  There were samples from Blue Moon (fabulous—I plan to take Lance there for our anniversary Tuesday), multiple volleys from a candy cannon (not that they needed pocketfuls of candy the day before Halloween), paint-and-take pumpkins (Grace painted a pig), and impressive balloon animals for everyone by “Locally Twisted” (he made me a frog—the guy is incredibly talented; look him up on Facebook).  
 
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The man who lets us use his ram to breed our ewes called me Tuesday.   “I have good news and bad news,” he said.  I took the bad news first.   “Your ewe is not going to be bred this year,” he reported.    What good news could follow possibly follow that I wondered….   “She had twins this morning,” he said. 
 
The real story in this story is the lambs’ paternity.   The only possible father is their mother’s son.
 
 
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I read an article in the local newspaper about a World Community Day Celebration that invited all women of faith to attend.  The event’s spokesperson said “The goal of this celebration is to unite the faith community in planning and implementing a time of praises and worship that demonstrates Christ’s reconciling love to the community, country, and the world.”     Seeking a story, sensing an experience, and perhaps nudged by the Spirit, I felt compelled to attend….so I did….and I am so glad.
One of only 15 women there, I was the probably youngest (3+ decades younger than some of them) and the only Mormon.   We sang, we prayed, and we read scriptures.   It was pretty basic Christian stuff.   Mostly I made tentative connections and gleaned information that will enable me to forge stronger connections.
One of the last things Elder L. Tom Perry (LDS apostle) said in the Stake Presidents Coordinating Council meeting that I attended last spring (and one of the last things he ever said as an apostle, as he entered the hospital the next day and was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer) was that we need to reach out to Christians of other denominations.  “In the U.S.,” he said, “Christianity is declining.  We need to band with other Christians to bring people to Christ.”
I feel, in my core, a compulsion to connect with these amazing, dedicated, righteous women of other faiths and I believe this may be my opportunity.  Though I have no idea where it will lead—I hope for great things—I know will pursue it.
 
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The anxiety demons are attacking our Grace again; this week was brutal.  We decided that having her own space where she can retreat and recompose might be helpful so we created a bedroom for her in the basement.     The floor-to-ceiling wall is made of food storage boxes and toy bins.   A rug woven in South American (Thanks Annette Argyle!) carpets the cement floor.  A bed frame purchased in North Ogden (love ksl.com!) holds up her mattress and a wardrobe ordered from Amazon will hold her clothes once it arrives (due here on Monday).   She’s using the dresser and roll top desk that used to be in the sewing room.  Two lamps and a window give the room light.
The interesting (more or less) story in this story comes with the procurement of the bed frame.    On the way to North Ogden to pick it up, the knocking in the truck’s engine became too loud to ignore.  I pulled into the driveway of the duplex where I thought I was to pick up the bed frame (it was not the right place) and called my dad.   (Even at 50 years old, I call my daddy for help.    Something never change.)
Dad told me to check the oil.   [Apparently diesel engines need oil too—who knew?!?!]  It was bone dry.  I added a quart that I found lying in the truck’s cab.  Did not  even register on the dip stick.  Oh dear.
I flagged down a passer-by, inquired about the location of the nearest place where I could buy diesel oil, and walked 1.5 miles to Auto Zone where I bought 5 quarts of 10W-40 diesel oil.   With my 5 quarts I walked back to the truck that was parked in the stranger’s driveway. 
In my absence, the proprietor of the driveway had returned home, discovered a strange truck parked in his space, and was in the process of calling the police (his phone was in his hand, his fingers pushing numbers) when I arrived, breathless from striding vigorously uphill carrying 5 quarts of oil.
 
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The Utah State Board of Education voted nearly unanimously (12-2) to recommend that the Legislature eliminate funding for the Electronic High School (EHS).    Within a year the decision as to whether or not to quit my (second) job teaching for EHS will not be mine to make.    
 
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A 10 year old boy, visiting our home, randomly announced “My mom is 37.”  When I told him that I am 50 he said, “Wow, that is too old to have children.”     ????????
 
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More tantalizing tidbits of inane information:
  • Tanah turned 18 this week.   She and I had a great day skipping school, eating sushi, and shopping. 
  • I finally appreciate the fact that Lance bought a rototiller. Initially it seemed to me that we have a tiller for the same reason we have a piano—simply to be in possession of it but never to use it.     I did not see the need for a tiller because Doug Terry (bless him!!) plows my garden every spring and fall and it only costs me a loaf of homemade bread.   Saturday Miles tilled the garden.   It cost me $25 (significantly more than a loaf of homemade bread) but seeing my son outside manning a machine was worth the price.
  • I had another article published in the Standard Examiner.   This one has not yet inspired any cyber-bullying.  http://www.standard.net/Faith/2015/11/07/Mean-mom.html
  • Tanah went to Sadie’s (girls’ choice dance) as did Sara.  Both reported having a great time.
  • Miles developed strategies for dealing with the hassle he expected to receive at school the Monday after the Packer’s loss to the Broncos.   “Yea,” was one of his planned responses, “the Bronco defense was amazing—keeping Rogers to only 77 yards!  Aaron Rogers only getting 77 yards…Unbelievable!”   Smart kid.
  • Summer is gone.   Temperatures dipped below freezing last night.
 
 
Sure love you!!
Teresa 

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Photo of Ogden's High Adventure Park, courtesy of The Salt Project.
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Do you recognize these flowers? (Most people thing they are vegetables...)
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He made me a frog!!
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Grapes (not of wrath....)
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Guess which pumpkin is Grace's.....
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Mother and son/grandson.
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Ronnie's response to Sara's invitation. (Darling!)
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Ben's response to Tanah's invitation. He hand painted the shoes. (WOW!)
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Tanah went to Sadie's as Bellatrix Lestrange and Ben (not pictured) went as Snape.
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