When the family gets together

I started my first day of vacation napping, cleaning the bathroom and attending a hockey game with DH’s family. Today I expect I will try to recover from the excitement of yesterday.
The napping and cleaning was uneventful, albeit desperately needed. The hockey has become a family tradition.
DH is one of 10 children. The hockey game started when his sister in southern Utah was given the opportunity to buy cut-rate tickets to the Utah Grizzly hockey game. She and a few of the brothers decided it might be a fun outing, bought some tickets and camped in our basement for the weekend.
Somewhere along the line a brother from Idaho and his children, as well as the southern Utah married children started buying tickets. Now there are 40 tickets sold to DH’s sister and family.
Since the family rarely gets together, (and they are not all in attendance at the hockey game) it is as close as they get to a family reunion of any kind. Eight of the 10 children were there and one of the “missing” was represented by his son, daughter in law and two grandsons.
After the game we went out to eat at the local Chili’s, but not all of us made it to the restaurant. One of the Idaho cousins tripped over a downed street sign while walking back to the restaurant and ended up cutting her leg. Her father took her to get nine stitches put into the gash.
Still, the poor waitress had more than 20 people at the tables with 4-6 separate checks. She handled it very well.
We didn’t get home until after midnight, and I slept in until almost 10 a.m. today. Such luxury!
Truth to tell, going to a hockey game is not my favorite thing to do. I don’t understand the rules, I’m not particularly comfortable in the stadium seats, and I hate crowds.
But it was fun to get the family together, re-acquaint ourselves with the crowd and meet the newest cousins. The setting doesn’t allow for a lot of interchange between families, we sit and watch a game, then we sit and eat.
Today DH and the boys will be meeting some members of the family for other activities. I’m not sure what they will be doing, but I’m not going. I have plenty to do at home, and I suspect he’ll have a better time without me.

The high price of shopping

Wal-Mart, seriously, is possibly the most frustrating place to shop on the planet, particularly when you go there with two children, between the hours of 4 and 6 p.m.
I had planned to go earlier, but I ended up scrambling to write a news story, then I fell asleep on the sofa, and then it was 2 p.m. and the boys were going to be home at 3:15, so I just waited and took them with me.
After I had made the decision to take the boys shopping with me, a neighbor lady called and asked me to read the journaling she was putting in a scrapbook for a friend. I set up the appointment at 5 p.m.
Wal-Mart was it’s usual nightmare of freaky folks, slow-moving grandmas and mothers with children (I currently fall into the latter category, but I am on the edge of the first and second category, as well).
I ran into a ya-ya in the cookie aisle, and while our children ran up and down the cookies and other shoppers shot us dirty looks she gave me some coupons ~$2 off Contessa frozen dinners, yehaw!
Then I came to the checkout line and picked a spot. I did not make a good decision.
I looked at my phone and realized it was 4:47 p.m. and there was a lady with a cart overflowing with goods and children in front of me. So I called my appointment and pushed it back to 5:30 p.m.
After I loaded my goodies onto the conveyer belt and was properly pinned in by another shopper behind me I realized I was in “Dons” line. Don is probably 80 years old and, I swear this is true, reads the labels of every product as he scans it.
I had several multiple item purchases, milk, bottled water, binders (cool looking and on sale!) and in each case I told him how many of each item I had in the cart. Undaunted Don scanned each item separately.
We walked out of the store at 5:13 p.m. I knew I wouldn’t get the groceries put away before my guest arrived, but there was a chance I would get the car unloaded.
So we pull into the carport and tumble out grabbing packages as we go. The cat came to greet us, and stood in the doorway, waiting for me to unlock it so she can go in it first.
We dumped packages on the table, and in the process, a saucer left on the table crashed to the tile floor and shattered.
I’m sweeping and swearing lightly under my breath, DS-7 is scrambling to pick up coats and backpacks in the living room and DS-12 is finishing unloading the car.
But we made it.
When she came to the door the glass was off the floor, so were the school supplies.
DS-12 unloaded groceries and put them away while I helped my neighbor.
And I vowed never to go to Wal-Mart again. ….. until tomorrow when I run out of double sided tape or realize I forgot to purchase laundry detergent.

Just a quick layout about my 12-year-old DS. He wrote the equations on the page.

Journaling reads:

"Who would have thought I would bring a math wizard
into this world. I am hard pressed to balance my check-book, and I only do it
under duress. I was fine in my number-free world, then along came my first born
son, methodical, logical, technical L----.
"The boy loves numbers, math and all things
scientific. He took first place in the school science fair while he was in first
grade. Instead of watching sports, he has the television tuned to MythBusters or
Numb3rs. He hates to get up early, but willingly gives up 30 minutes of sleep
twice a week to attend an advanced math class.
"When he and his father get talking math problems I
just smile and go somewhere else in my head. I’ll let them discuss negative
numbers, integers and Pi while I think about my next newspaper story or
scrapbook layout."

Wash, rinse, repeat

I was flipping through my photographs looking for something to scrap when I came upon these shots of my family at the Bonneville Salt Flats taken last year.
I realized I still hadn't scrapped photos taken in 2001, so I put them together and a page was born.
This one is heavy on the journaling:
"Five years is but a moment in the unchanging, harsh environment of the Bonneville Salt Flats.”It is a monotonous, white, hot expanse unrelieved by vegetation. The only landmarks in the great vastness are blue-grey mountains floating like a mirage in the distance and the thin line of I-80 across the desert floor.
"With the exception of cars zipping along the freeway, it is the same wasteland traveled by the ill fated Donner Party in 1846.
"But you have changed, our lives have changed and the world has changed since our first visit to the Bonneville Salt Flats in June of 2001.
"We were on a new adventure. David was looking for a job and had been offered a teaching position in Wendover, Utah. He turned the post down, but ended up working in the same school district, first in Tooele, later in Grantsville.
"David’s hair was just growing back from being publicly shaved at a school assembly. He lost a bet with his students ~ they read more than he said they would.
"Logan was six. He turned seven on Sept. 12, 2001, the day after America was attacked and some 3,000 innocent people were killed by terrorists. America is still at war in Iran because of the attack.
"Tow headed Adam was two and still learning how to use the toilet. He’s seven now, and is learning math facts.
"When I look at these photos I marvel at how much our lives have changed in five years. I wonder what the next five years will bring.
"I dream of a peaceful, safe world for my sons. But I fear peace is distant, like the mountains in the Bonneville Salt Flats. I hope it is not just a mirage."

I am very, very, very excited for my upcoming vacation.

I have fallen into a great big rut, and I really need to be doing something else.

Monday:

Get up

Send family to school

check internet e-mails, etc.

call Transcript and get my daily assignment.

Call people on the telephone.

Shower while waiting for return phone calls.

Throw a load of laundry in the washer.

Throw a load of laundry in the dryer.

Empty the dryer first.

Fix a sandwitch for lunch.

Write a story.

Welcome kids home from school.

Unload dishwasher while cooking supper.

Reload dishwasher.

Watch television or work on scrapbook page.

Tuesday.

Get up.

Send kids to school.

Check internet, e-mails, etc.

Shower

Throw a load of laundry in the washer

Throw a load of laundry in the dryer

Empty the dryer

write shopping list

Go shopping

unload car

Fix a sandwitch for lunch

Go to Relief Society presidency meeting.

get home in time to greet family home from school.

Empty dishwasher while cooking supper.

Clean up after supper.

Watch television or scrap pages.

Wednesday:

Get up

Send family to school

check internet e-mails, etc.

Call transcript and get my daily assignment.

Call people on telephone.

Shower while waiting for return telephone calls.

Throw a load of laundry in the washer

Throw a load of laundry in the dryer

Take a load of laundry out of the dryer

Fix a sandwitch for lunch.

Welcome children home from school.

Take them to piano lessons and or Scouts between writing stories.

Empty dishwasher while cooking dinner.

Clean up dinner.

Watch television or attend Stansbury Park meeting.

Watch television.

Go to bed.

Thursday:

Repeat Tuesday but replace the Relief Society meeting with scrapping or shopping

Friday:

Repeat Thursday

Blah, blah, blah, blah

Sorry, am I boring you, cuz I'm kind of boring myself.

Today wasn't too bad. DH came home after school and mowed the lawn. There is now wind whipping around the house and the weather report tells us to expect snow tomorrow. Gotta love that March.

It's all in the packaging

I imagine you all are getting tired of seeing scrapbook pages on my blog, but I'm not tired of making scrapbook pages, so I guess you'll just have to suffer through it in case I actually sandwitch some news in here somewhere.
Hillbilly Sister asked me about idea generating, and this is an example of the strange places inspiration will take you.
Yesterday while I was cleaning up my scrap space I found a box of "Petaloo" flowers someone had given me. I like the flowers, but I adore the box. However, it takes up a whole lot of room in my storage, so I decided to throw it out. Well, not exactly. I covered the lid with blue paper and used it for the title / picture frames on this page.
I've been holding onto the "Bowling" paper for several years now. I bought it to make something for Wyo Sis. If you know her, you know why I found this paper so entertaining.
I called the falconer today, only to discover March is not falcioning season. The birds are molting, and getting ready for fall, which is the hunting season, Duh!
So I went with plan B and am talking to a woman who lived in my ward (julie) when I moved here, about Cystic Fibrosis.
Her second child, a son, was born with the disease about four years ago.
I have a connection with C.F. because when I was a kid the girls in my church took on the task of collecting money for the disease. I remember learning about it from our Seminary teacher, who had a niece or nephew (I can't remember which) with C.F. I also remember going door to door trying to pronounce Cystic Fibrosis in spite of being terrified about talking to strangers.
Julie's sister, brother and parents still live in our ward. Her sister taught DS-12 his first piano lessons and was the accompanist when I was working in the Primary Presidency. Her brother was in the bishopric for a time. Her nephew (via the brother, not the sister with a C.F. son) is in DS-12s Boy Scout troop, but is the reason L hates Boy Scouts.
It's odd interviewing people I know. But at least I don't feel strange calling them with follow-up questions.

Layers, it's about layers

You won’t believe what I found in the kitchen today. The countertops!
I remembered them from a few months ago, but today all the stars aligned and I was able to remove stacks of papers, cat toys, spray paint, a pine wood derby car, two battery packs, an eight-pack of spaghetti noodles from Costo and a cap gun to find the bar between the kitchen and living room.
It won’t last, of course.
In my cleaning spree I also reorganized the message board. This, I confess was more a result of buying adorable little round push pins because they came in a cool magnetic container ~ they only cost $1 at Office Max and I passed on the cool magnetic container full of paper clips.
Another most extraordinary thing has happened. It’s Friday and DH has the night off. Someone at work called him asking to switch so he’s upstairs right now watching television. The boys are playing outside, and I have unearthed my scrap table.
It’s true, I should be setting up an interview with a local falconer for a Tuesday “Hometown” story. But I’m not. It occurs to me that right now the paper needs me more than I need them.
I decided to tear apart the “Kindergarten Kid” layout based on the words of Wyo. Sis. I really didn’t like it, and her comment that it looked like a Wanted poster sent me in the wanted poster direction. I ended up sanding and sewing the heck out of it. But I think it turned out much cuter than the original.
Also, Hey, Karen! You are famous! Thanks for the package, hehehehehe.

A little nutty

That’s what my editor said about the people I interviewed and wrote about today.
Now I’m pondering things.
Well, I’ve been pondering things since I attended a fireside on Sunday. There an American born Jew, who immigrated to Israel at the age of 12 talked about his belief that Israel has been foreordained as the Promised Land for his people.
True, there were plenty of edgy things discussed, even written in the story, the most inflammatory being:

“opponents of the Jewish homeland are also deeply spiritual, “but the
question is, what spirit are they connected to,” alluding to his belief that the
battle in the Middle East is a classic war between good and evil.

Okay, I can see where my editor might consider it a little thorny. It certainly is not politically correct.
My editor removed it from the story.
But I’m not sure these are outlandish statements:

“Peace has been hijacked by the media … It is not ignoring evil, it is the
light that overcomes the darkness, it is love of family, love of life.”
Or
“Peace is when your beliefs and actions are in step with each other.”
Without this unity of thought and action there is turmoil in your own soul that
has a ripple effect on your neighborhood, your community, your country and the
world.

As I wrote in my blog earlier this month, I appear to be out of touch. I don’t think the statement

“we have a responsibility to care for the Jewish people,”

is outrageous. Nor do I think it’s out of line to say

“It is not a political war. It is not a war of bullets and tanks; it is a war of
spirit.”

Let’s be clear. I don’t believe the followers of Mohamed are evil. Nor do I believe Jews are “pigs” and “dogs.”
Instead, I am under the impression that we are all children of the same God. I believe He has a plan for us, Christian, {even Mormons}, Jews and Muslims. We all can lay claim to Abraham as our ancestor.
I suppose this is the crux of the problem. Who is entitled to the Abrahamic covenant? Who can claim rights to Israel?

Yesterday DS-12 came home from school and said all sixth grade students were required to write a term paper about a country. When his name was called, asking him what country he would write about, he thought about saying Denmark, but instead asked to be assigned Israel.
I was blown away by the choice. It’s true, he may have selected Israel because I have been writing about the subject, but I don’t think I discussed it much in front of him other then telling him I was going to the fireside to listen to an Israeli soldier.
Anyway, when he came home I showed him the internet connections I had found with Israel National Radio, where the Jewish man I had just listened too co-hosts a daily program.
Last night I took him with me to interview the man. (I wanted to augment the fireside with some personal information from both him and his American host).

He sat with me as we discussed biblical prophesy, the Jewish belief that God is in everything we do and the common ground shared by Christian and Jews.
I don’t think I was wrong. But more than a few people think I was brainwashing my child.
Apparently that makes me a little nutty too.

On a lighter note: I have to inclued the interchange between myself and the photo editor of the paper about this shot.

Troy; Here is my attempt to photograph a couple of people afraid they might
accidently touch each other other while in a poorly lighted room. This goes with
the Jewish / Mormon story for today.
Aleen, do have any caption info for
these lovely folks who have done an exceptional job of maintaining their
personal space?

Three cards, a layout and ...

Continuing with my on line crop displays, I made these three cards and the layout all using one ad inspiration challenge. I really like the ad that inspired all this card making, but I think I am going to re-visit the layout. The photo totally cracks me up, it is so very Adam. But the layout needs some work.
I went to a fireside for work last night. The speaker was an American born orthadox Jew Zionist living in Israel. He co-hosts a radio show in Isreal with a friend he met while they were serving in the Israli army together. Very interesting, no?

I have a lot more to say about the fireside, etc. but I have another interview with him and his Tooele host tonight and I need to ponder everything.
Stay tuned for more blogging on this subject.

The things I do for paper

I’ve been scrapping all day long. My on-line design team has been hosting an on-line scrap and I am participating for fun and prizes.
There are about a dozen challenges up right now. But I have figured out how to combine more than one challenge in each layout in order to get more points.
Here are some examples:

I misunderstood the challenge here. I was supposed to take a photo from a different angle. But as I had already taken the photo on Wednesday, I scrapped it into a page.

Here I was supposed to use some bad photos. I photo copied a page from my journal shortly after Adam's 1st birthday. I kind of like the way it turned out.

ON this one I had to use three photos, a K in the title, and some red.

I also had to alter (as in doodle on) the photo.

My third challenge was to use something from the hardware store. Dig the dry wall tape.

It's not my best work, but if I get goodies from the deal I’m okay with it.

On this one I had to be "inspired" by the ad for one challenge.

Use items from a shopping list of goodies for the second challenge. (I chose brads, striped paper and a green and blue color scheme)

I also did the journaling for another challenge.

Out of touch

There is a very good chance I don’t really know what is going on in the world. I know selective things, like how high the water is in Stansbury Lake, President Bush changing his wording about Mexican immigration to “migration, and the global warming hoax and the religion of environmentalism. (Yep, I lifted those last two subjects from Glenn Beck and Rush Limbaugh.)
But I don’t know other apparently important stuff like how many men claim to have fathered Anna Nicole Smith’s baby and rather or not the neighbor across the street is in the nursing home again.
Frankly, I miss a lot of what is going on around me, both close to home and in the national and international headlines.
I don’t watch daytime television, instead I listen to Rush Limbaugh, Dr. Laura and Glenn Beck on “Family values radio, KNRS!” I don’t spend a lot of time visiting with the neighbors, or even looking out my front window, instead I’m chatting about school board meetings with the district superintendent. I know in excruciating detail the population numbers of my school district, and the teaching methods of my DHs fellow school teachers, but I can’t remember from one day to the next when my children are supposed to have their science fair project completed.
I’m not sure how much of this selective knowledge of the world around me is a conscious choice.
Okay, I do chose to listen to conservative radio news rather than watch Katie Couric on television. I do have a rather pronounced gag reflex, after all.
But the rest of the news filtering seems to just happen by nature.
The boys school news tends to be contained in one of the papers overflowing their backpacks which tend to litter the front doorway of the house every evening. My contact with these backpacks usually is limited to the daily shrieks of “pick up your backpacks and put them away already!”
I don’t really have a lot of time to sit on the front stoop and chat with the neighbors about the other neighbors, not that I am all that interested in the subject, anyway. I’m generally too busy picking up backpacks as I kick a path to the door so I can pick up my daily allotment of bills and advertising flyers from the mailbox.
But I suppose no one can know everything.
This is said to be the information age, but it seems in the midst of all the information many of us (myself included) are more ignorant than ever about the really important things in our lives, the events going on in the lives of family members and neighbors.
I suppose ignorance is bliss.

Mornings reek

Getting up one hour early in the morning is a most ghastly proposition.
But I do like sunshine after the kiddos come home from school because they go outside and bounce around on pogo sticks, throw balls, chase the cat up the tree then climb the tree to retrieve her and generally get fresh air and exercise without whining for me to entertain them.
So this week has been a mixed blessing.
I’ve been obliged to drag my protesting body out of bed much earlier than I wanted to. But DH has been home for three evenings, we’ve gone out to dinner and I drove to my meeting on Wednesday in light instead of darkness. These are all good things.
Most important of all is the sunshine.
I’ve been in a deep, dark, nobody-loves-me, I hate my job, funk for months. Now I see the sunshine and I’m feeling much better.
Still, yesterday was a bit nutty.
Along with the usual scrambling for stories, taking kids to piano lessons and Scouts and going to the Stansbury Park meeting I also took baby photos for a friend (who happens to be the boys piano teacher), fixed a nice dinner for DH because it was his birthday, and sent the guys to the science fair because I was cooking dinner. I could have gone to the science fair, but then we wouldn’t have had anything to eat.
Today I was up early writing news stories. I need to take DS-12 to the eye doctor because he broke his glasses on Saturday and he’s due for a new exam anyway. It’s always something.
I don’t really have a point to all this rambling except I did want to show off some of my photos and let family members know I am available to take pregnant belly and new baby photos if they so desire. I love taking photos of new babies, and it’s one gift I can give without spending a lot of money.
The woman/ girl in these photo turned 19 the day after her baby was born. Isn’t she adorable? Is it just me or does she look like she could be one of Janene's daughters?

Her son was born a month early and spent several days in the NICU while she spent several days at the McDonald House with her mother. But everyone seems to do be doing well now.

HaPi Birthday David!

Pi Day is a special day in the lives of many-a-nerd (celebrated on March 14 at 3:14pm). Just like normal people celebrate Valentine's Day or National Pancake Day, nerds around the world will gather and join hands in the shape whose ratio of its circumference to its diameter is the most revered mathematical constant in the known universe.

It also happens to be my beloved husband and my niece-a-Lisa’s birthday.

DH is getting banana cream pie for his birthday instead of cake. Last night we took him out to dinner and afterwards went to Wal-Mart to pick up some pie treats. We ended up getting Lil’ Debbie marshmallow pies (a.k.a. moon pies) to give to the students in his class. As it happens they are currently studying the phases of the moon in class, so the moon pies serve as a treat for both events.

Nerds are welcome to join me in a circle as we sing those popular Pi carols:

Oh Number PI

Oh, number Pi
Oh, number Pi
Your digits are unending,

Oh, number Pi
Oh, number Pi
No pattern are you sending.
You're three point one four one five nine,
And even more if we had time,
Oh, number Pi
Oh, number Pi
For circle lengths unbending.

Oh, number Pi
Oh, number Pi
You are a number very sweet,
Oh, number Pi
Oh, number Pi
Your uses are so very neat.
There's 2 Pi r and Pi r squared,
A half a circle and you're there,
Oh, number Pi
Oh, number Pi
We know that Pi's a tasty treat.
(to the tune of "Oh Christmas Tree")

Pi Day Song

Refrain:
Pi day songs
All day long.
Oh, what fun it is,
To sing a jolly pi day song
in a fun math class
like this. (Repeat )

Verse:
Circles in the snow,
Around and round we go.
How far did we have to run?
Diameter times pi!
(Refrain )
(to the tune of "Jingle Bells")

On a completely different nerd front, here is my latest scrapbook project, featuring my nerdy son and his nerd friends. I am doing some catch up on my pages. This is L during his 12th birthday sleepover party.
It was a fabulously easy event, no party favors, no cute hats, no silly games involving balloons. I simply threw the kids in the basement with some PS2 games, candy and a pizza and sent them home in the morning.

I did the entire layout using scraps and supplies from my stash:pp from my stash TreeHouse and Paper LoftCreative Imaginations cardstock photo cornersAmerican Craft letter stickersMaking Memories rub onsI'm thinking the brads are MME, but I'm not sure

The week of the woman

It just occurred to me that this has been “The Week of the Woman” for me. It started with my teaching in Relief Society last Sunday.
Then I was invited to a Ya-Ya birthday party on Wednesday, I visited with Kendra and hung out in the kitchen during the RS birthday party dinner on Thursday and Saturday I attended a baby shower for another woman at our church. She has been teaching the boys piano. Alas, she is going to be moving to a town one hour away soon.
I gave her a picture frame and a photo shoot. I had plans for her to come by yesterday with her new baby so I could shoot him, but she canceled on me. I’m not sure when I’ll get the photographing done.
With this week of the woman I am reminded of how isolated I usually am from the general public. I work from home and I don’t go to a lot of evening activities because DH works so much and I need to be home with the boys if I’m not attending a meeting. No wonder I’m feeling a little edgy. The only women I communicate with on a regular basis are cyber friends, either family members reading the blog or scrappers on or two message boards.
I’m not exactly sure how to change this, but it does require some closer examination.
I am also spending the weekend helping two boys with science fair projects.
This is one of those times when I am very happy to be married to an elementary school teacher. I talked to him about it Friday night and Saturday morning he went to his school and brought back two ab fab ideas for projects.
DS-8 is experimenting with mirrors while DS-12 is crunching numbers with cost analysis of fruit with and without the skins.
My job is to take photos and offer computer support.
The project is due on Tuesday. I am supposed to have a feature story written and on the computer of my lifestyle editor on Monday morning. It’s 11:22 a.m. on Sunday and I haven’t a clue what I am going to give her in the way of a story. The three hour block of church starts at 1 p.m. I suppose I should be in a full boar panic, but I’m not. I’m rather past the whole panic thing anymore.

Mary or Martha?

Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her" (Luke 10:38-42).


I’ve been thinking about this story yesterday and today. I was a total Mary yesterday when Kendra came to visit. The Relief Society was setting up the church for a big special event dinner and program that has been in the planning stages for months.
Kendra went to the church to visit with everyone, and called me to come and see her there. I had planned to go to the church later in the day to help with the set-up, but instead I sat on the sofa in the foyer and talked to Kendra for an hour while everyone worked.
Now and then they walked by, and in my guilt I saw them shooting me unhappy looks because I was chatting instead of working.
To make amends, I spent last night in the kitchen serving sandwiches while everyone else sat and visited with the other sisters.
But, everyone saw me serving sandwiches, and I was not the one who made them. I fielded a lot of complements, and felt goofy about it; because my sole investment in the evening was putting chicken salad filling into rolls.
I’ve been left wondering if I made the right choice to visit with Kendra of if I chose the easy route and left everyone else to do the hard work while I basked in the glory.

My Kendra!

Crazy day, but a good one, because I had a chance to visit with Kendra.
Kendra is the original Ya-Ya scrapper. She brought a group of women together in a sistership that still remains, although she has long since moved to Georgia.
The last time I saw Kendra was days after the birth of her daughter, Megan. Kendra’s husband, who works for Delta Airlines, was working from Georgia while Kendra was in the process of fixing up the home and getting ready to have her fifth child here in Utah.
She packed her house, went into the hospital and had the baby, then flew to Georgia where her four older children were staying with her mother.
Kendra is pronominal.
Anyway, she came by for a flying visit and I was able to see Megan, the baby born before she moved, as well as her four sons, 12, 8, 6 and 3. (I might have the ages wrong, I’m not sure). I was buddies with her through two of the pregnancies, and watched the older children when the three year old was born.
She’s now working on baby No. 6, Emma, her second girl.
Seeing Kendra reminds me of how much I miss her. She is the ultimate earth mother with eyes in the back of her head and about six extra hands. She does day care out of her home, loves to cook and caters and makes cakes in her spare (!) time.
But perhaps the best thing about Kendra is she loves unconditionally and she dowsing’t judge people based on their outward appearances.
In a way she was the mother to all the Ya-Yas, and the rest of us had mother issues. Wow, I just made that connection!

Other things I did today that were not on my agenda this morning:
Wrote a story about Vernon Elementary.
Cleaned up cat vomit.
Wrote a report on White Lions for DH-8.
Helped set up the church for a RS event.
Officially apologize for going a peep too far on yesterday's blog.

Peep show

In the spirit of Easter, I bring you the many faces of peeps.

Get ready for Spring with a new Easter frock.

Peeps! Not just for breakfast anymore.And let's not forget the religious meaning of the season.

If peeps don't please you, take a look at my latest layout.