Of bare walls and echoes . . .

About three (or four?) years ago I removed all the "foo-foo" from the living room walls.  No more silk flowers and grape vines.  No more out-dated tole painted items (because I hadn't painted anything new since 1999 . . .)  No more things to collect cobwebs and dust.  Just clean lines, a few live plants here and there, and photos of the family on book shelves.  I loved my simple, minimalistic style.  I still do.  So what if your voice reverberates back to you when you sit in certain areas?

Don't get me wrong--I enjoy walking into a beautifully-decorated home, complete with vinyl lettering, candles, photos, etc.  I just never seem to be able to achieve those lovely effects.  I think I have a style in mind, and before I know it, I've filled the walls with clutter that doesn't make the artsy statement I'd wanted it to. I get so frustrated when it comes to interior decorating.  I love hammering nails, painting, and repairing.  I just feel so out of my element when I have to do the decorating thing. Nevertheless,  after all of these years, I've gotten up the courage to try again.  This time, however, I'm starting with something that is a definite winner--pictures of my family.  I have a great family, and everyone of them (YES GUYS, EVERYONE!) is pretty photogenic.  I've found a couple of frames, enlisted the help of my photo shop savvy daughter, and determined to add some interest to my bare walls.  I was even in one of those crafty home decorating stores yesterday getting ideas for additions to the photos and frames. It was a dangerous move, I admit.  However, as I walked through the store I kept thinking to myself, "OK, so I don't know for sure what I want, but I know this isn't it."  Really?  I'm wondering if I really know what I want, and also, will I really know what it is when I see it?  Can I really deal with all this added stress in my life?  I mean, those echoes are kind of comforting after all . . .

Happy Birthday to Me!

If I look at my birthday as a numerical value, it's pretty frightening.  I could easily have a panic attack--I mean, 54!  I could think of my birthday in terms of time passed versus time possibly left, and I would end up in the "pits of despair."  Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and wonder, "When did I get these sags and bags?"  "Where did this floppy-ness in my neck come from?"  Yep, if I looked at myself in terms of flesh-and-blood-years-aging-as-time-goes-by, I would definitely consider my birthday a time of mourning.  Instead, I've decided to think of myself as timeless (eternal spirit and all that . . .)  That view makes my birthday a time of celebration, not mourning.  I really do think of myself as the same, year after year, with the possible exception of the ridiculous (stupid?) choices and mistakes I made in younger years.  I really don't feel like I change much.

That said, I have to share what has become a tradition in our family--the cake, ice cream, and card party.  Years ago my mom and her sisters would get together to have pie and coffee at a local restaurant for each of their birthdays.  It expanded to dinner at a restaurant, and we daughters of the sisters were added to the mix.  I remember when my cousin's daughter Rikki joined us for the first time.  She was in a high chair at the table (she's now in college), and it was a wonderful moment for me to see the three generations of women together.  It became a real tradition at that point.  The tradition morphed into coffee, cake, ice cream and whatever seemed fun at someone's house.  We share crazy cards, the latest happenings, and memories while we laugh and eat.  This year my daughter made gluten-free "diet" cake for me, and the women once again brought crazy cards which I hesitated to open, knowing I was about to get slammed by jokes about my advancing age, and we laughed.  That's the best part of it all.

I have been so blessed by these wonderful women in my life.  They've supported and encouraged me my entire life.  I received a card today which was meant to make me think about how old I am as I read about simple things of years gone by, but it also said, "It means you were lucky to have such good times . . ."  I have been lucky to have experienced these wonderful times with such amazing women.  Thank you all.

The new year rushes in . . . and by?

Wow!  I knew it . . . no sooner would I be back a school than I would be writing the date in the double-digits. Tomorrow I'll be writing "January 10th, 2011" on the board at the front of the room.  Nine days gone by "just like that" (imagine fingers snapping)  I always have such great plans for the new year, but they always seem to be caught in the crossfire of the realities of life.  What's that John Lennon quote? Ah yes, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."  Getting caught up in the busy-ness of life seems to be the default of my life.  While I was making other plans to read more, rest more, exercise more and eat less, worry less, hurry less, life happened.  Each day is once again (still, actually) full to the brim.  I rise from my bed at 5:00 each morning and retire to it at 9:30 each night and wonder how the time got away from me yet again.  I've heard that in the last days time will "speed up."  I think there have been physics studies that discuss how that could actually, physically happen, but I think we are just so controlled by our busy, full-to-the-brim lives, that with no time to stop and think, time really does seem to speed  up as it flies past us.  Or maybe I'm just feeling the it's-back-to-work-tomorrow-morning blues . . .

You see, it's not that I mind my weeks, it's just that I really do enjoy my weekends.  This weekend I was able to go over to Brook's new home and help her do some more moving in.  We washed and dried dishes in preparation of putting them in the newly scrubbed cupboards.  We scoured the filthy stove (complete with mice tracks and nest debris) and sorted the boxes in the spare bedroom, sending a large pile to the car for the DI and another pile to the dumpster.  Tylynn dropped Greg off on her way to a bridal shower, and he helped do some carpentry work and the heavy lifting.  Corey and Steven joined us for lunch in Rupert, and then Corey came over to help fix the broken futon frame.  Tylynn came to pick up Greg and we all had great fun at Greg's expense as Tylynn explained her frustration that Greg wasn't very fun on their Christmas trip to Disneyland.  We left feeling like we'd had a great day, and we were happy with our progress at Brook's.  Today I taught my Relief Society lesson and Corey and I had fun visiting with Ty and Greg again as they stopped by to drop off some things for our garage and pick up some things they'd left here. 

Some would wonder why I would choose cleaning mouse dukey as an enjoyable weekend experience.  I assure you, it wasn't the cleaning, lifting, and de-mouse tracking.  It was the time spent with my family.  In this busy, run-everywhere-and-I'm-still-feeling-behind life, the one new year's plan I will not allow to get caught in the cross hairs is my determination to take every chance I am given to be with and do for my family.  This is my life that will happen as I'm busy making other plans.