Go take a Hike!

One of the things I love about Southern Oregon is all the stinkin'
NATURE!

It's EVERYWHERE you look!
Right in our backyard!
We wake up and look out the window and this is what we see:



Well, this picture was actually taken out of the window of a school bus on our way to hike this lovely landmark, which is lovingly called Lower Table Rock, but it really is only a hop, skip and a jump away from our front door. This is a popular school field trip site for this reason, and because it only takes an hour and a half to climb to the top -- even with 120 kids!

And just look at what awaits you at the top -- a beautiful view of the valley, stretching from the gorgeous Rogue River all the way to Mount McLoughlin.

See that cliff? That's about how steep it is, straight up the side of the mountain....practically.
And off in the distance you can see Upper Table Rock, which is almost three times as big, but the hike is half as long. Go figure.

Here's a bird's eye view....

When you stand on top of the mesa and look down on the valley, it's hard to believe the valley floor used to be the top of the table rock. But thanks to time and erosion and all that ....that....NATURE..... we now have these two beautiful landmarks to hike and wonder about.

We had a great time hiking with a great bunch of kids, and it was fun finding out how out of shape I am! But I've decided that I have no excuse, and because this is only a five minute drive away, I'm going to hike it again and again this summer and see how quickly I can get up there and hopefully shape up in the process!

It's all Greek to Me...

I wish I could say that I took this picture, myself, in person and on location.

Unfortunately, THIS is the closest I'll ever get.

People...... I've done some crazy stuff with costumes in my time.

But dancing frogs in togas, tutus and hula hoop lily pads?

I ask you....

Seriously, when the costume director from Phoenix High School (that's Phoenix, Oregon, not Arizona -- no kidding!) approached me with this project, I thought it was the most obscure thing I had ever heard of. And I was right. I wasn't even sure I wanted any credits in the playbill.

And then I went to rehearsal.

Let me just say, I was blown away. It's silly, it's goofy, it's satrical and entertaining -- and the kids at this school are TALENTED!! They sing, they dance, they act ... and they carry on like they're having the time of their lives. I am really looking forward to their performance next week, and in the meantime, I'm sure Roy would love to have his living room back. Right now, it's covered up with bed sheets that will become togas before the end of the day if it kills me.

In the meantime, "Annie" is over and done. Sara and Emma had a wonderful experience singing and dancing on stage for the first time, and we were very impressed with the overall performance. It was quite a feat for our little community -- Central Point is a quiet, country suburb to Medford, which is just north of Ashland (Shakespeare Land!), so theater is thick around here, but it never seemed to catch hold all the way up here in the sticks. I think this show may have woken up the neighbors to some cultural diversity, once and for all!

The girls back stage getting ready to go on --
Sara and friends..... and Emma as an Orphan

Bloneliness is next to Blappiness

The secret to blappiness (blog + happiness) is getting more than twenty comments on one post. So if you're ever feeling blonely (that's blog + lonely), host a giveaway and the commenters will come flocking!

And on the subject of blappiness.....I am really touched by how many commenters want to win a blankie so they can GIVE IT TO SOMEONE ELSE! Who wants to win a prize that they don't want to keep? REALLY GENEROUS PEOPLE, THAT'S WHO. So keep commenting...

Did I mention that you get an entry for every comment you leave on each post I write between now and May 27th?

No kidding! So keep 'em coming! And I'm checking for blogertisements, too -- (blog + advertisem....you get the idea) so you people can really rack up the entries really easily!

In the meantime....today's Blote ("Blog of Note") comes from Beeswax . People, if you haven't read her post already today, go pay her a visit. She has a gift for wit -- so many of you all do! That's why I love blowsing (see if you can figure that one out for yourself) -- I know there are lots of other words for hopping from blog to blog, checking out what total strangers are up to -- but Beeswax's story got me thinking, and instead of a leaving a novel-sized comment, I decided to share my story here instead.

I come from a long line of canners. Women who can. As in fruits and vegetables. These women were survivors of the Great Depression, multiple wars, and periods of rationing where the process of canning was not only a life skill, but a necessity in order to prevent waste and improve independence.

Wow. When I put it that way, I feel even more guilty than I already did.....

Anyway, I grew up helping my mother during harvest time on our little two-acre piece of land, putting up gallons of peaches, and pears, and applesauce, and grean beans, and tomato sauce, and everything else that could possibly be preserved from our modest little family garden and various trips to the orchards. It was hard work, let me tell you -- and I'm probably preaching to the choir -- but there was nothing more satisfying and beautiful than a pantry full of gorgeous jars and jars of all our hard work, lining the floor to ceiling cupboards in our garage.

So....when I got married and received my first canner, I thought, Now I Am A Homemaker.

=

And then it sat on the shelf for about six years.

The bottom line was, I was scared to do this by myself. Had I an ounce of courage, I would have called my ward RS president and cry for help, but honestly, I justified my inactivity with all kinds of excuses. Time, money (it's not as cheap as people think!), desire .... we didn't have much of any of that then, so I buried the guilt and went on with life.

Until we bought our first house. In our backyard was a lovely little shade tree, just off the side of the covered patio. My kids loved to play around that tree in the summer time, and for the first year or two, we never figured out what kind of tree it was until, one dark and stormy winter's night, the patio roof came crashing down-- and sideways-- right on top of that tree.

When we sorted out the deluge, we thought the tree was destroyed, but as it turned out, the roof simply pruned it. But we weren't sure if it would survive the rest of the winter.

So imagine our surprise when the following spring, that tree bursted out in blossoms that eventually became... plums! Round, plump, purpley-red morsels of sweet, tangy, yellow yumminess that were such a delight! We ate them until we were sick of them, gave them away, and let the birds have as many as they wanted until my grandmother let me have it. (The cultured, feisty, Spanish-speaking grandmother... remember her?)

Grandma was thoroughly disgusted that I hadn't done something to prevent this waste. So, dutiful granddaughter that I wanted to be, I proceeded to pick off every ripe plum one day, without a clue of what I was going to do with them.

Five or six ten-gallon buckets later...I called Grandma and asked, "Okay, what now?"

• She gave me recipes.
• She brought me jars.
• She loaned me her dehydrator.

I was all set. I had my canning apron, an endless supply of sugar and pectin and all the other goodies you need. What I didn't have was any gumption whatsoever.

• I learned that some plums are meant just to be eaten -- not cooked.
• I discovered that plum jam has a shelf life of about ten years. (Especially if you're going for the Attractive-Paper-Weight creation, and not Edible-Toast-Embellishment ~ the stuff was awful! We finally through the jars away last year).
• I learned that canned stewed plums have no redeeming value as a dessert or side dish, since there are very few ways to prepare them other than....stewed.
• It was also revealed to me that, while prunes have their own redeeming qualities, eating a dozen or so a day is not a good idea for kids that are potty training.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of my success as a Can-Not girl. The only other time I ever got involved in preserving any kind of fruit was at the home of my good friend who took charge and told me what to do when, and by the end of the day, I had a dozen jars of freshly canned peaches to my credit. She had about ten dozen jars of her own, so we didn't do too bad.

But please, oh powers that be, please do NOT call me to the be the ward canning chairman!

I'll take on quilts any day instead.....

I've gotten a few emails asking to see a sample of some of my other creations. I started a blogfolio some time ago, but I just can't keep up with more than one blog at a time, so here they are...

The black and white blankies you see here are among my first creations. They are so much fun to make, but much more time consuming than the blankies we made for the bazaar. These are a lot of fun to personalize!

1. 2 3 45

1. I made this blankie for the Young Women in our ward. Each girl gets to take it home for two weeks, and while she has it in her possession, she is challenged to finish one personal progress experience. It's gone around the ward several times, and it has been fun to see what the girls have accomplished!

2. Emma helped me make this schoolhouse quilt for one of her teachers who retired last year. All the kids and teachers signed the back.

3. I found this Clifford Pillow panel in the bottom of a box of scraps, and one my friend's son is a Clifford FREAK, so we surprised him with this for his birthday.

4. Paisley is the new Baby Girl Name of the Year! This scrappy classic was made for a Paisley Marie.

5. I think I've blogged about this before, but this quilt was made from a set of fatigues that belonged to a soldier who came home from three tours of duty in Iraq. He was present at Falusia when they captured Sadhaam Hussein, and now that he is home for good, he and his wife were finally able to start their family and this blankie was presented to their little Carson.

How 'bout some cheese with your whine?

I feel like I should apologize for yesterday's post. I usually don't let things like this bother me, but every now and then, every single human being has to let out their aggressions and frustrations and whiny, pouty blah, blah, blahs. So, I'm sorry for unloading all that on you. It's really not that big a deal, and everything is going to be fine, and I will keep sewing costumes until the cows come and I will be happy doing it.

But still, thanks for all your sympathy. I knew this job was going to be dangerous when I took it, so I have nothing to complain about.

IN THE MEANTIME...

I have super exciting news. Lisa got me thinking about this today, and as she is celebrating her one year blogiversary (and no, I am not advertising her giveaway in any way, shape or form because I want to win it, so you are welcome to go and visit her blog but UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU LEAVE A COMMENT ~ unless you legitimately follow her blog, then go right ahead ) ........

What was I saying? Oh, yes, blogiversaries ~ I had to look up on my dashboard to realize that my TWO YEAR Blogiversary is coming up on May 27th. And what's more, I'm aiming for 200 POSTS at the same time! Holy Cow! It's like I'm falling into the Blogging Giveaway Vortex!

SO....

In honor of this tremendous occasion, I have decided to be ultra generous. Remember my Black and White baby blankies?? Well, I have a few ready made beauties left, and before I make this year's batch, I need to find homes for last year's models! (Why do I suddenly feel like a used car salesman?)

So here's the deal:

1. Every time you leave a comment over the next month, that will count as an entry for the May 27th drawing.

2. If you want to advertise this giveaway for me on your own blog, that will count as five extra entries.

3. If you are currently pregnant and you decide to name your child after me, that counts as an INSTANT WIN!

(And if you're expecting a boy, I'll accept a name that starts with Q, like Quinn, or Quentin, or Quetzal...I'm pretty sure no one wants to name their son Sue. Which reminds me...I was supposed to be a boy, and if I had been, I think my parents were going to name me Michael -- which doesn't make sense, because I already have an older brother named Michael, but that's what my older sister always told me growing up!)

And here's the most fabulous part ....

THERE'S GOING TO BE SEVEN WINNERS! You heard that right -- I'm giving away 7 gorgeous, hand-crafted, intellectually- stimulating, and textile-developing Baby Blankets, in a random assortment of black and white fabrics, accented with variously chosen bright solid colors.

But no, that's not all!

One Lucky Winner will be chosen to receive this Sue Q original, which I lovingly call

"The Lady Bug's Picnic" Quilt.

Suitable for toddlers and small, pastoral gatherings. Available in crib, twin, or small, pastoral gathering size.

This may seem like too much, but honestly, I really need to make space in my shop and the baby blankies need to be the first thing to go. And the ladybug blankie is one my favorites to make, so get out there and start commenting, and spread the joy and the love and consider this as one big thank you for keeping me blogging for two whole years! (It's better than talking to the voices in my head!)

Love ya!

Predicament

Why can't everybody just get along?

Something has come up recently that has caused no little stir in my life. I'm not even sure how to talk about it without hurting people's feelings or giving someone the wrong idea (assuming, of course, that any of the people involved might actually stumble across my blog). But let's face it, people will always have different opinions and inevitably, people will get their feelings hurt when someone doesn't agree with them. And then, when they act upon their different opinion, someone is going to take that as a sign of disloyalty that they didn't change their opinion to match his or hers.

This probably makes no sense at all -- I'm not even sure if that was grammatically correct English -- but suffice it to say, there are a lot of ruffled feathers over a subject that I believe has been blown way out of proportion and people are getting offended left and right and I feel like I'm caught in the middle. I'm trying to stay as neutral as possible, but both sides of the issue at hand are waging a mental/emotional war on the other and I am the rope in this little tug-of-war . And if I don't take a stand one way or the other .... well, I really don't care what people say. It's just a part of the drama behind the drama.

If you haven't guessed, this all has something to do with The Theater. I love costuming -- I really, really do. And I have really come to love working with the people I have met through this experience. But I have rapidly come to realize that there's still a lot of competition in this occupation, and a lot of politics and strategy and garbage that is very frustrating.

What it comes down to is this: there are several children's theater groups in town. Some have a better reputation than others, but as they are constantly changing hands and swapping staff members (usually due to hurt feelings or seriously bad miscommunications between one another), the dynamics are also constantly changing. Since they each function as a business, they are also competing for the best shows and lately, the best actors. Loyalty to one group or another has torn kids apart and sometimes, families.

AAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!

Thanks for letting me vent.

The good news is, Sara and Emma are having a marvelous time in our community school production of "Annie". Both girls are in the ensemble, but Sara does have a few speaking parts, and they both sing and dance their hearts out and we are very proud of them. I'm so glad everything has worked out (we had a minor crisis this week with costumes, and I gladly stepped in and helped), and that audiences, in general, have received them well. We've got one more week of late nights until the show wraps up this Saturday.

And then life will be back to normal....until the next show starts!

What is the leading cause of dry skin?

Took me a minute....and now I can't stop laughing!

Seriously, so many uses come to mind. Other than the usual, obvious purpose of relieving moisture, there's this:



What once began its life as a menial washcloth now gets to fulfill the nature of its creation as an adorable bathtime buddy. I wish I could take credit for this, but Emma's activity days group made these Wednesday night and I wish they bred like real rabbits, 'cause now everyone wants one! ( And I don't just mean little sisters!)

And second on the list of other uses (and perhaps more importantly), there's this:



I AM THE LAUNDERER. HEAR ME ROAR.

...Speaking of roaring super-heroes...
I just want to give a little shout out to my cyber friend, Jen, at Jen's Jingle. She's a pretty witty gal, and she always gives me a good laugh whenever I stop by her blog. I think if there was a Busy-ness Contest, Jen would kick my backside. The woman has alot of irons in the fire, as you will read from THIS POST. I admire her so much that I decided to show my appreciation by nominating her (on probably one of the worst weekends possible) for spotlight of the month on the Mormon Mommy Blog site, and she came in third. Which bites. So, I just want to declare my allegiance to my jingling friend by spotlighting her here instead, and Jen, I know you are anxiously awaiting your fabulous door prize, which I fully expect to see you model via photos on your blog when it shows up in the mail. (And standing on the washer/dryer will not be necessary. Hint, hint.)

~~ MEANWHILE ~~

We had a delightful Easter Weekend. Roy and I spent Saturday at the temple and participated in a record-breaking stake event involving more patrons and performing more ordinances on any single day since the temple opened nine years ago. We were able to do the work for many of our very own ancestors that Sara and Anne have found on Family Search. The youth of our stake have been challenged to gain a testimony of genealogy, and the ward that can find the most family names to bring to the temple will win an all-expenses paid dinner provided (and prepared!) by the stake presidency themselves.

My girls are out for steak. And lobster. Or maybe a trip to Italy.

Between the two of them, they have found over 130 names!!! From both my side and Roy's -- and I thought most of my family's work had been done already! We are so excited about their excitement, and more than happy to help them in this endeavor. Going to the temple now has a whole new meaning!

A Lesson in Cheer

WARNING:
LONG POST AHEAD.

I HAVE A LOT ON MY MIND, SO FEEL FREE TO SKIP THROUGH THE LONG DIATRIBE AND GET RIGHT TO THE FUN STUFF.
THANKS FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING.

~The Management~

Well.

I feel insurmountably grateful for all the positive support and advice and positive vibes I've been receiving lately, due to my last post. I am also incredibly humbled -- I always thought of myself having a pretty good self esteem, and I didn't even realize that I needed cheering up, but when I got the mammoth email from a Superstar and award winning author, I realized something.

People want me to succeed.

And there are ways to do that very thing. And thanks to Annette, I have some serious thinking to do. What I thought I was just doing for fun has now presented some serious consideration.

So here are some questions I have to ask myself:

1. Do I really want to do this?

2. Is it worth the time and effort and sweat and tears it's inevitably going to take in order to accomplish this goal?

3. Which brings up another idea -- is this a goal, or is it just a dream?

Which brings me to another subject entirely that I feel inspired to share today.

When I was a senior in high school, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life. I was one of the first two seniors to get accepted into a college (in September of my senior year, no less) and I was going to get a degree in English and a minor in Secondary Ed and I was going to be a high school English teacher and share the joy of literature and learning to millions of teenagers and inspire the future generation of youth to greatness. By the time I graduated, I had earned enough college credits to enable me to begin my college experience at the Sophomore level in my English Program.

First problem.

I entered the program with a group of returned missionaries and various other more experienced students that were all using English as their double major, with either Law or Psychology as their other half. Every class was a debate! They all had to argue every single assignment, and discuss every poem and author and novel as if their lives depended on it. After my first year, I was completely burned out. And somewhat disillusioned. This was not what I had signed up for. (Except for the creative writing class, which I enjoyed....)

So, when the time came to register for my third semester, I went to a counselor. I explained my dilemma, and even though I do not remember her name or what she looked like or even what she said, I remember how encouraging she was, and how she made me feel about the situation. For the first time, I realized it was OKAY to reconsider my life's path, and that changing my major would not be the end of the world, and I could still make a difference in the world but perhaps in a different way.

I had a roommate at the time who (practically) changed her major about as often as she changed her hairstyle, and she would take the registration booklet and close her eyes, open it up to some random page, wave her finger in the air and land it on the book, leaving fate to decide her future. I used to laugh at that, but suddenly I was inspired. I grabbed the catalog and closed my eyes and did the whole rigamarole, opening my eyes and found....

.....Zoology.

Huh.

I didn't think so. I am an artist, not a scientist. This was not the answer.

However, my eyes glanced over to the left side of the page, where I read, "Youth Leadership."

Huh?? That was a major?

I read down the list of classes. Backpacking... Canoeing... Outdoor Cooking... Winter Camping....

Ha, HA!!! This WAS a major??!! This was CAREER GIRLS CAMP!!!! SWEET!!!

So, much to the concern of my parents, I signed up for one class. It was called Keys to Leadership, and it was an introductory class to the whole major, so I figured this class would help me make up my mind. I didn't take a single English class that semester, just GE stuff, and I prayed that something would click and after four months, I would either miss the English so much that I would want to go back, or I would find a new and completely different path.

It didn't take four months to decided. It took about four minutes. The first day of class, I walked into a large classroom with about thirty other kids in it, and most of them were chatting and visiting like they were old friends. I headed for a seat, but never made it. Somebody came up and introduced themselves, and immediately drew me into a group, and before long, I felt right at home.

Bro. Skinner, our teacher, soon walked in, wearing a nice suit and carrying a briefcase, and he welcomed the class warmly. We began the class with prayer (I love that about BYU) and then opened his briefcase and prepared to show us the textbook for the class.

He pulled out his Bible.

I felt chills. This was not a religion class. And yet, it was the most spiritually uplifting class of my entire college experience.

Bro. Skinner explained that Christ was the Master Teacher, and how we would be studying His life to gain the skills it took to become a leader -- whether it was a leader of a family, a leader of a Boy Scout Troop, or even a leader in the community, the lessons we would learn from this class would help us in any career choice and wherever life would take us.

That did it. I sat through that class, mesmerized, and one hour later, I marched right up to the Department Office and changed my major. And I've never been sorry -- not for one minute.

The skills I learned in this major will never make me a millionaire. They will never bring me fame (beyond the ridiculous reputation I've built for myself at Girls Camp), and I will certainly never earn any sort of fortune from it. But as a mother and a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I will forever be a different person for the lessons I learned in those walls, nearly twenty years ago.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, one of the most memorable lessons I remember from that class was on the subject of Impossible Dreams. No, we did not study "The Man of La Mancha" -- although that would have been entirely appropriate -- but we did make a list of all the things that we dreamed about and thought we'd never achieve.

I still have my list, and I get it out from time to time. I remind myself that I was a young, single, and slightly naive coed when I wrote that list, but I have achieved several of those dreams....like getting married in the temple, raising children, learning how to drive a stick-shift .... things I thought, in my immaturity, I would never accomplish. And yet I have. Except for the "Become a Published Author" thing, I think I'm doing pretty well, in fact. But there were times that I would look at that list and think, What was the point of writing this down, again?

Well, there was a point -- and there was more to it. Bro. Skinner gave us a challenge with the list in the form of what he called the W Formula.

"Work will win when wishy-washy wishing won't."

And it works. I look at that list, and I think of all the work it took (and still takes!) to make each of those dreams come true. Which reminds me of another Skinnerism: "A Dream Not Written Down Is Only A Wish." There comes a point where those things we fantasize about can either become reality, or blow away with the wind...

...which brings me back to the original subject at hand. As much as I don't enjoy the vision of 367 pages flying out my window, I still have some important decisions to make. I used to fantasize about seeing a book with my name on it, sitting on a shelf in a bookstore, with dozens, maybe hundreds, of people waiting in line to get my John Hancock.....but why is it we never fantasize about the months and months of work it takes to get there? And the reams and reams of paper you have buy, and the hours of typing, and the sleepless nights because you can't make the plot resolve itself the way you want it to because the characters aren't cooperating, and the tater-tot casseroles your family grumbles about because you're too busy writing?

Sheesh, that's depressing even to think about.

So I remind myself of Ecclesiastes chapter three. My dream is blossoming into a goal, and my goal is not going to achieve itself overnight, or in the next few weeks, or even months. It may even take fifteen more years! But I have a life plan going for me, and I'm in this for the long haul.

And I appreciate your support. I'm doing this for you, too, now.

In the meantime.....(remember I promised some fun stuff?)

When I need some good cheering up, I usually turn to one of three things:

1. Food
2. Music
3. My shop


Thankfully, I was able to combine #1 and #2 and save myself a few pounds. We discovered a CD that was produced a while ago, but is absolutely, hysterically funny and enjoyable for all ages.

Go ahead -- click on the picture, and it will take you to a video of one of our favorite songs from the album.

The other fun part regarding #2 was something that came in the mail this morning. Something that was the result of some ridiculously good luck, and some insanely good timing. (click on the picture so you can see what it is close up)

I love giveaways! I love winning them!
I love the giddy feeling of expecting something delightful in the mail that will help improve my life by leaps and bounds!

Here is a small sample of my pantry before...


And after --


Now, the only problem is, I need four more! (But Sophie doesn't think that's a problem -- all those extra cans just provided her with minutes of amusement!)

Finally, Cheer Up #3: When I'm really down in the dumps, or even when I'm not, there are few things that can cheer me up better than a really cute dress. We've been watching old Hayley Mills movies lately, and I felt inspiration kick in for this little number.



Doesn't she look like a great big double scoop, Neopolitan ice cream cone?
Dontcha' wish you could just reach out and....and....LICK 'ER?

Just too cute for words.

And just one more reason why I should stick to what I do best, and leave the novel-writing to the professionals.

Darn it, I did not mean to say that out loud.

Thud. (Strike one....)

This is my book.

This is Publishing Company "A".



Any questions?


Actually, that's not entirely true. I'm not crushed, distraught, or even disappointed. Honestly, I was expecting the proverbial "Thanks-but-no-thanks" letter when I read the statistics on the company website -- something like 1,000 books submitted a year for potential publication, and of those, 600 are new authors, and of those, only 16 are published.

To tell the truth, I am kind of relieved -- I don't have to worry about the rest of the world rejecting me or my book or even my dream. The only reason I tried to publish it in the first place was because my kids read it and loved it and I wanted to do it for them. Sure, it was a dream -- it still is a dream -- but all that matters to me is that they still love it and enjoy what I write, and if nobody else in the whole world reads what I write, then so be it.


Have I given up? For the moment -- maybe. I'm not even sure where to go from here, but I know there are other publishing companies out there that might appreciate it, so I've got some research to do. In the meantime, maybe I'll start a fictional blog and publish one chapter at a time so you can all enjoy it as well. ;-)

Monday Musings: My life as a short order cook

First of all, let's just say here and now that conference went by way too quickly. I look forward to listening to the talks, soaking in the atmosphere, singing along with the choirs (don't you love Consider the Lilies? Favorite Mo Tab classic!), and, let's face it, watching the sessions while dressed in my pajamas. I love that the internet can bring the Prophet right into my own home. Unfortunately, the convenience also becomes a hindrance, since a certain four year old lives here as well, and asking her to sit still for two hours, four consecutive times, is like asking her not to breathe. Impossible.

In the meantime, I enjoyed the talks I could hear over the din of trying to keep the children entertained, and in between visits to the kitchen. Conference food -- better than Superbowl food, if you ask me. Double batch of aebleskivers (which I've blogged about before but couldn't find the post with the recipe, so this will have to do for now), cinnamon streusel crumb cake, fresh fruit, and my personal, perfected favorite -- microwaved cheesey omelettes. Yes, it's true. You can scramble eggs and cook them in the microwave without exploding them in the process, and top them with finely chopped onions and bell pepper and lots and lots of cheddar and jack cheese. Yumm-O!

Anyway, back to conference -- I always enjoy listening to Elder Nelson (due to my previous acquaintance, even though I'm sure he doesn't remember me at all. At least, I never get a Christmas card), and Elder Holland talks about the atonement like no one else, and Elder Hales has inspired us to start a family trip fund so we can come to conference next year -- but let me just say, here and now, that the clincher for me was the closing song at the Sunday afternoon session. I love President Monson! He's such a warm and caring man, with so much love for children and youth and, well, everybody. That song always reduces me to tears, but I loved seeing the images of President Monson all over the world. I think that was one of the legacies President Hinckley left behind as a precedence -- this is a world wide church, and the way he used to travel the globe to visit the members and utilized the media seemed to make the church grow closer instead of so wide spread. Now, President Monson is carrying out the practice, and as the church grows, we will become even closer!



Only six months until the next one!

Every party needs a pooper, that's why we invited....me.

Okay, I have written three different drafts of today's post (some serious, some scathing, and one where I tried to be funny and failed), and even though I have completely blown my ten-minute limit with this, but I have to say it:

I don't like April Fools' Day.

I know, I know, you're all starting to think I'm a communist or something. First, Valentine's Day, now April Fools' -- next, you're all going to start thinking I don't believe in Santa Claus.

Seriously, I've never really enjoyed pranking. I've been on the receiving end of many a prank in my day, mostly harmless, but as the youngest of five, I had to endure my share of torment and torture 24/7, 365 days a year. I certainly did not relish one whole day dedicated to the sport! And as for my peers, well, honestly, who thinks a p.e. locker stuffed with Size double D brassieres as harmless when you were a sixteen year old string bean? (No, I did not get a picture !)

Yeah, I still haven't gotten over all that.

In any case, I have also pulled my share of pranks. Again, mostly harmless, but the one that nearly got me sent home from Girls Camp pretty much turned the tide. It wasn't anything akin to the Parent Trap or anything that destructive, but still, it offended so many people, and mostly people whose respect I valued and opinion of me went right down the tubes. (Yeah, I haven't gotten over that, either....)

From that moment, I vowed that I would never prank again. Never again would I act without thinking about the consequences, or how my actions would affect someone else's feelings toward me.

Thankfully, however, the Girls Camp definition of "pranking" has changed. There is something in the adrenaline rush about running around after dark, stealthily trying to surprise a friend with some funny prank or other, wrapping their cabin with Saran Wrap, or covering their windows with black butcher paper so when they wake up in the morning they think it's still night time. We have tried to promote the "Positive Pranking" that promotes only good feelings, like giving somebody a "heart attack" and covering their room with colored cut out hearts with Hershey Kisses glued on. Or "Mooning" a cabin (again, with the cut out moons and starbursts glued on), or "Egging" (plastic eggs filled with jelly beans scattered all over the floor), and so forth and so on.

The best prank ever, as far as I'm concerned, happened a few years ago. At 6:30 a.m., I woke up one morning to my radio alarm clock, which had been set to my favorite radio station as usual. Now, I am NOT a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, but I loved the two radio personalities that woke me up every day with their wit and sarcasm and wild range of loud and raucous music. They helped me get a great start on my day, and at least, I could look forward to that.

Until this day.

I hadn't been paying attention to the calendar lately, otherwise I might have been prepared for this, but imagine my shock when, instead of Huey Lewis and the News, I woke up to ....

Randy Travis.

Now, don't get offended, all you country music lovers, but it was a rude awakening. Literally. I was not expecting twangy, slangy, "Honky Tonk Moon" to rouse me from my slumber. In fact, I sat straight up in my bed and stared at my alarm clock in horror and disbelief. Did I get the wrong station? Did somebody mess with my alarm clock? I checked the dial and sure enough, 101.9 FM. I was crushed. My favorite radio station had gone.... gulp.... country!

Finally, when he could stand it no longer, Roy reached over and picked up the alarm clock, ready to sling it across the bedroom, when the announcer interrupted the song mid way with an ear piercing scream,

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE!
APRIL FOOLS', EVERYBODY!"

We laughed so hard -- after we sighed with relief, of course.
Best joke ever.