My Superhero...

With a couple of the busiest weeks of my life approaching, a sleep deficit that would put the national budget to shame, and more that need be done than would fit on my plate... I decided to take a nap.  Now lest you think that unwise with so much to do, I would never have gotten anything done from sheer exhaustion.

When I awoke prince charming was folding clothes.  Later he gave a blessing to Jim for his eye.  And then helped the boys get ready for bed.  If that weren't enough he talked to me about one of life's dilemmas and helped me find a moderate and humorous resolution.  And wrapped it all up with a back rub.  I asked him what title would he like for his day's work.  He settled on my preferred suggestion, "My superhero who wears his underwear inside his pants."  So honey, this one's for you.

Musica

I recently had a friend express a near blasphemous opinion... she hates musicals.  WHAT?!  It couldn't be I must redeem her.  However, let it be known, I have to be in the mood.  After all, my attention span has been, as of late (meaning since kids.), limited.  But to hate?  As dear John would say, "oh, nay nay."

Here's my take on it, music makes me merry.  It makes comedy funnier.  It makes the world go 'round.  I dare you.  Give it a shot.  Just listen to Tim Hawkins, and don't laugh.  As if that weren't delightful enough.  I openly admit, I watch Sesame Street with my 3 year old!  But Ricky Gervais AND Elmo should never share the screen... at least if you want to not get in trouble with the boss for goofing off and failing to retain professional decorum at work.  And of course a nod to my all time favorite miscreants The Muppets.  And last, but not least, why would AFV do montages if they weren't particularly funny with a melodic accompaniment to Dad's and diaper?

Crap, I mean craft project

Fallingwater Home Frank Lloyd Wright

I consider myself an individual that likes simple unhindered design.  Art deco, craftsman, retro 60's.  Yet, when I look around my house, I find a lot of junk whose only object in its design is to collect dust.  Andy often says, Relief Society's favorite projects are taking something useful, and turning it into something useless.  (Though beautifying the home on a budget is certainly not its sole occupation, it certainly has a basis in real life.)  Okay, some has been acquired due to the "thoughtfulness" of my children (who would want to change that?)

Autumn, spring and summer wreath Elizabeth McLatchy

All that having been said, there is something enlivening about being artistic.  It refreshes the soul.  It enlivens the mind.  It occupies the hands (although we need to be certain it is not a foolish sacrifice.)  I've always had a zeal for living plants.  From the seasonal garden club with Emily to working in wholesale and retail floral sales (sadly, I was just the driver, could there is a more rewarding occupation...?  Everyone's always made happy by what you did for them, even at funerals.)  But it seems that my lot is silks.

Our tree... note the playhouse I made to the left of the tree in the background

Ironically, I have a black thumb.  I once received a gardenia bush FILLED with buds and ready to bloom.  They are beautiful flowers.  In Spanish they're most commonly referred to as 'smell of the night.'  The bush died before ANY could bloom.  I was given an ivy for a wedding present.  After 8 years of torture, I allowed it to pass from this life peacefully.  I once planted maple tree helicopters.  The next year when they began to spring forth, I cut them down because, if I remember right, my brother told me they were poison ivy.  (Thankfully my mother reminded me that I had planted them and to put the shoots back in the ground and water them... as far as I'm aware they are still alive and over 25 ft tall... The Lord obviously took mercy on the trees.)

Wayfarer's chapel CA near redwood forest Lloyd Wright

My dream vacation would be to the Redwood forest in CA.  Fall is my favorite season with all it's lovely colors, and my favorite colors from nature spring forth from the trees.  Even the scriptures about trees are my favorites (Jacob 5; 1 Nephi 11:  8; Genisis 3:6; Alma 32:41; Luke 13:19; Matthew 26:36; Joseph Smith History 1:13-14)  If I were to find out I'm absurdly wrong as to all my beliefs I was once a tree in a previous life.

Aspen Cathedral, Vail, Colorado

 Did you know the largest organism is a grove of Aspen that are all interconnected spanning 106 acres?

Okay, so who says perfect design and art don't interconnect?  Isn't he who designed the world perfect?  So I rest my case.  What was once crap, is now craft; skill, talent, ingenuity, seemingly random design, all combined with a purpose in mind.  What are you making?

What's in a name?

I was in a win-win situation for naming our eldest child, named after his dad and both grandfathers.  The other was just as easy after both of my brothers.  I've always been happy with my own, and all the nicknames that have fit me so well.  There is value and substance in a name that is beyond expression.  For example, "And under this head ye are made free, and there is no other head whereby ye can be made free. There is no other name given whereby salvation cometh; therefore, I would that ye should take upon you the name of Christ, all you that have entered into the covenant with God that ye should be obedient unto the end of your lives." Mosiah 5: 8  Perhaps that is why people are so easily offended when we don't remember theirs.  Sadly, names don't come easy to me.  Even after several years of knowing a person, I can draw a blank.  I suppose that living in the same area and having few move-ins helped to not exercise that part of my cerebrum.  Or maybe it was the hours practicing head stands that caused dain bramage.  But nothing was quite as trying as my mission, in regards to this skill, or rather lack thereof. 

For those that don't know I went Spanish-speaking.  Not only did I need to learn their names, and remember them, but many were names with which I was completely unfamiliar.  After reading Kevin!!! I remembered an incident from my mission.  I sat in a room with my companion, our member friend, who's name, of course, I can't recall.  He introduced us to a dozen of his closest friends and we taught them.  Nearing the end of the lesson, I felt more familiar with some of their names, and decided to use them instead of say, "Usted [you]."  "Calendario,..." I don't remember if I said anything else.  I was embarrassed for having said his name wrong.  And everyone was in gales of laughter at my expense.  So I asked him what his name was.  The response, "Candelario."  I thought, 'Well, I was close.  Besides neither makes sense; calendar, candelabra.  Same dif.'  Well shortly after my mission, I saw a couple in the temple (there are benefits to living in the same state where I served.)  I happily greeted a family who frequently fed us... "Sister Galavis!"  um.  It was Galvan.

So if you are greeted with a happy generic, "You."  Please don't feel I don't know or care about you.  I just don't remember names.  I'm all the more amazed, daily, that God knows each and every one of ours.  Exodus 33:17

Fabulously Freaky & Fantastic Fall

Old Rag Mountain, VA

Currently 52 degrees here in TX.  All functional windows open.  Listening to John Denver.  No candy corn in sight.  Living room as clean as it will ever be while I have children at home.  For a million reasons, fall is by far my favorite.

I grew up in VA near the Shenandoah, so the mountains, deciduous trees, acoustic guitar run in my veins.  Please bear with me while I wax sentimental.  Old Rag Mountain.  Hiking with Dad was the best of times.  He was always with the slowest hiker, which was me (we'll blame it on being the youngest, though I doubt that was the real reason.)  Bear's Den with Mike, my 'brother' and friend, playing his twelve string.  Sky Meadow State Park; 11 years old camping out with Dad for the first and last time on snow dusted hills.  Poor man, I forgot my pillow.  I laid on his arm ALL night (maybe men do know pain.)  Long drives down Great Falls Parkway as fast and smooth as I could corner.  Drives down quiet roads through untouched fallen leaves.  My husband and I were married in fall, my sons were born in fall.  And then there's my mother, a new Halloween costume for 3 kids every year, all the way through high school.

Previous years costumes

And, as every mother knows, the tradition must continue...  This year is no different.  The same family celebrations blown out of proportion to build memories.  And an intense desire for my children to have as much fun at this time of year as I do.  So with the measuring tape around my neck like a noose, a shovel to dig out the sewing machine, and every useable scrap of fabric at my disposal (all of which, will likely not fit the bill.)  I sit to make the final decision for my children (since kids can't seem to pair down ideas to their favorites and it changes daily.)  Scott a mummy (a.k.a. mommy; Jim say's, "Mommy's are scary.")  And Jim a Fighter Fighter (a.k.a. Fire fighter), Scooby-Doo or Buzz Lightyear.  Maybe you can help me out with a vote...