Singing Birds Welcome

I found a great Chinese proverb that says,

Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come.

I like the connotations of a green tree in your heart. I recall some moments when I have felt something like a vibrant green tree in my heart---a glorious gratitude for being alive type of feeling when I feel like I have clear blue sky and fresh sunshine in my lungs and the green tree in my heart is filled with a mighty chorus of singing birds---moments like when I married my sweetheart for time and all eternity, moments when I held my babies for the first time... Other times I have felt like I have a soft green tree in my heart gently swaying in the breeze with a few birds softly chirping---times of just sitting and holding hands with my husband, times of watching my children sleep tucked in all safe and sound and innocent, and times of soaking in the laughter of my grandchildren. Then are times when the tree in my heart isn't green at all and it's bare and cold with maybe one bird just sitting in it waiting for the renovations to be finished---times when I am worried or depressed or overwhelmed--times when I feel old and tired and bent with regret and too far away from Springtime.

How do we keep the tree in our hearts green? Biology basics---sunlight---plenty of light, water---living water to wash and refresh and renew, food---truth and hope to nourish and strengthen.

Of course all of this has to reach down to the roots...

From Chinese proverbs to Emily Dickinson---

Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune--without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the stangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Beautiful

By the way, when I googled the poem I noticed that today would have been the 100th birthday of Jacques Cousteau---I just noticed that the last part of his last name means water in French---

I remember watching Jacques Cousteau specials on television as a kid. He always seemed old to me but strong like he had weathered many a storm. Since I seem to be attempting to wax poetic, Mr. Cousteau reminded me of a fish out of water---not in an awkward way but a good way--the sea was so much a part of the man. I think I will try and read more about him. I think a friend of mine was recently reading a book about him.

Perspective and Balance

First things first---In my last blog I mentioned understanding that people have more important things to do than read my blog--like tweezing unwanted facial hair. I realized that this probably mainly refers to women (most men shave unwanted facial hair) so just in case men read my blog--I realize they have more important things to do like tweeze unruly nose hairs---just wanted to broaden my comments.

A few short weeks ago I was out clearing snow off of the tarp protecting our infant vegetable garden and shivering one day and the very next day I was loving the blue skies and soaking in the warmth of the sunshine--so were my little plants. I couldn't help thinking what a difference a day makes--then the song came into my mind, what a difference a day makes, twenty -four little hours. Sometimes a life can be altered in twenty-four little hours or even in minutes or seconds and yet in other circumstances a day seems to not make much difference. I think it is a matter of perspective. Our days might seem to make no difference from what we see but I think they always make a difference or have an impact. Are not we each the sum total of the difference our days make? Perhaps if one day is perceived to be just like any other then we are just existing and not living...I don't know. The apostle Peter said that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years and that has been interpreted to mean that in the Lord's time one of his days is equivalent to a thousand of our years. From that perspective one of our days is an incredibly short period of time to the Lord and little doesn't begin to describe the twenty-four hours within that short short day.

In church last Sunday we sang the hymn Abide With Me with text by Henry F. Lyte. The words Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day struck a chord with me and even made me a get a little teary-eyed. Especially now that I am seeing more of my youthful days in the rear-view mirror on my life's journey, I am increasingly more aware of just how brief this earthly existence is. The description given by James in the New Testament seems very apt, that life is even a vapour that appears for a little time then vanisheth away and yet, this brief life is the time we have been given to prepare to meet God again. (It is interesting that as we age our eyes have difficulty seeing things that are up close but things that are farther away become clearer. Maybe that corresponds somehow with how we start seeing our past more clearly as we get older. Since our lifetimes are very short from an eternal perspective maybe we see our youth in the side mirror and things are closer than they appear) Sometimes we feel we don't have enough hours in the day but at other times we still act like we have all the time in the world. Our Father in Heaven tells us to wisely use our time, to work while the sun shines, to not procrastinate. He also tells us to not run faster than we have strength to do so.

I find it perplexing that many gospel truths unpondered seem to be at odds with each other. In the Book of Mormon we read that we are less than the dust of the earth but in the Doctrine and Covenants we read that the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. The fact that both of these points of view are correct is clarified through perspective and balance. How can God, who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with the span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance {Isaiah 40:12} know when one sparrow falls to the earth or when one of his multitude of children on one small planet out of many worlds is hurting? I think a more appropriate question would be how could he not know? To narrow things to our mortal perspective, a trained and skilled doctor in an emergency room uses his abilities to massage a heart with his hands to keep a patient alive and then moves on to use fewer than 10 stitches to close a minor wound. A busy mother of young children has clothes to wash, meals to prepare, carpools to drive but she still stops to listen intently as her small child talks on and on about seeing a potato bug on the sidewalk. Firemen risk their lives to save babies from burning buildings and take their time to get kittens out of tall trees. On an almost daily basis we do big things of little significance and little things of major importance. Learning how to use our time wisely---how to appropriately distribute our energy---how to decide what is most deserving of our attention---how to choose the good and then the better over the good and the best over the better--this knowledge helps us to get the most out of each day. Learning these lessons are part of growing up but I think much more than that they are part of growing closer to God and letting him teach us about balance.

The world, or more accurately worldliness, can upset balance in our lives. More and more things of little worth are given more weight and importance. We spend too much time finding out all about what is wrong with other people's lives and too little time increasing what is right in our own lives. An inordinate amount of emphasis is placed on recreation and entertainment where much less emphasis is placed on work and service. In Proverbs we find out that a false balance is an abomination to the Lord. I think a false balance refers to an inaccurate weight. For example in a market if the scales weigh too heavy then we are charged more money for less product. We work more for less substance. Daniel talks about being weighed in the balance and found wanting. When we leave this brief existence on earth we don't take our prized possessions--our stuff--we do take the things money can't buy--the intangibles--love, integrity, trust--- we don't take diplomas or trophies or ribbons---we do take experience, lessons learned, wisdom, multiplied talents--I envision it kind of like me when I get weighed at the Doctor's office...I am always upset by the number on the scale so I take off my shoes, set down my purse, am tempted to take off earrings---when our earthly lives are weighed we take off or set down all of the stuff, the things and we are left with the lessons, the feelings, the thoughts---if we have only focused on the stuff then we will be found wanting spiritually.

So...all the little hours, days, weeks, months, and years add up to a life that is very brief but when weighed in the balance of eternity by our Heavenly Father who knows our worth...what a difference a day makes.

A Package---For Me?

I received a delightful package in the mail the other day. It was from a very sweet and special cousin. I opened the package to find it full of Willy Wonka Sensationals Candy. My cousin sent it in response to a blog I wrote about the Willy Wonka Candy. She enclosed a cute card with a message that encouraged me to share so that I wouldn't have to wriggle into my pantihose (a reference to another blog). I was touched by her generosity but I have to admit I was thrilled that she reads my blog. In my more self-centered and insecure moments I find myself envying bloggers who have 50 or more followers---okay sometimes I envy bloggers who have 10 followers but I appreciate my friends and family who take time to read my blog. I like to think I go for quality over quantity when it comes to number of followers. I am fully aware that people have more important things to do with their time--like tweezing unwanted facial hair--than read my blog and I do write mainly to hone my writing skills but it is nice to think that somewhere out there I have brought a smile to someone's face or given someone something to ponder--while tweezing unwanted facial hair. Anyway...I have tried to share the bounty of goodies but I have still ended up eating too many myself and have further distorted my girlish figure...but even that cannot dampen the delight that arrived with the package and resurfaces with each devoured piece of cherished confection.

Whenever I receive an unexpected package in the mail it feels like Christmas. (Let's drive any thoughts of the Uni bomber or Anthrax far away from the front of our minds for a few blissful moments) Most of the packages we receive are job-related items for my husband or books or aquarium stuff---things ordered online. Only on rare occasions do I receive a package addressed to me and when it is from a family member or a friend that package infuses my being with sweet anticipation and holds just as much promise of a special surprise as the biggest shiniest Christmas package holds for an eager child. (you're right, I could use a little more excitement in my life)

Actually, I have received very few surprise packages over the course of my lifetime thus far. (It makes me feel so eloquent to use the word thus.) Growing up, the family members I was closest to lived in the same state and most were frugal enough not to mail something they could deliver in person. Perhaps that is why a few special deliveries stand out in my mind...

On one of my childhood birthdays I received a surprise package from my Aunt Lillian. Let me give a bit of background information on my Aunt Lillian... She and my grandma were the only girls in a family of mostly boys. I heard several stories about how Aunt Lillian was the princess in her family and my grandma was more like Cinderella. I suspect neither my aunt nor my grandma would tell their story that way but that was how I heard it and my grandma did do her sister's laundry for a one dollar a day to support her family after my grandpa passed away. The two sisters did seem to be as different as night and day. My grandma was always frugal and practical. She rarely indulged in leisurely activities and her main satisfaction was derived from caring for her family. My Aunt Lil's husband had been a successful businessman and she always had a desire for the finer things in life, things of a tangible nature. She wasn't exactly among the Rich and Famous but she was well-to-do and as my mother would say, she had quite a 'highfalutin' attitude. Once in awhile Aunt Lil would treat her less advantaged relatives (my family) to an outing like dinner at a nice restaurant or ice-cream at Snelgroves followed by a visit to her home to watch Lawerence Welk on her new color television. I remember her being interested in health food so when we visited she would serve Papaya juice. I thought it was delicious and very exotic tasting--before I even knew what exotic meant. She also gave us little pastilles that tasted like what I imagined perfume would taste like. Whenever Aunt Lillian went to give a restaurant her patronage the employees became her personal staff. She was very demanding and inevitably there was something wrong with food. She could be quite intimidating but I thought of my encounters with my great aunt Lillian as being quite the exciting adventures. Back to the package---it was a big surprise because she had never before given me a gift for my birthday. It was an apron with narrow pockets for crayons and one of those plastic coloring mats that you can color and then erase. The crayons didn't color very well but the gift was unique, and it had arrived in the mail, and it was from Aunt Lillian.

Another surprise package that I still remember fondly and with greater clarity than my 'Aunt Lil package' was sent to me by my Aunt Elva who lived in New Jersey---the Mysterious East which was almost just as exciting as the Orient to my young fanciful mind. Aunt Elva was really my mom's cousin but my grandmother raised her when both of her parents were killed in an automobile accident. I only met her twice I think which added to her intriguing persona. My aunt Elva was an excellent seamstress so she had hand made the contents of package which increased their sentimental value tenfold. Apparently my mother had told aunt Elva how much I enjoyed playing with Barbie dolls. The expression on the face of a deep sea diving sunken treasure hunter upon opening a barnacled chest filled with gold doubloons could not have rivaled the look of pure joy on my face when I opened my package to discover layers of individually bagged barbie outfits. I think a couple of dolls were even included. One was a Tammy doll that was kind of like a girl-next-door version of the more cosmopolitan model-esque Barbie. Tammy and Barbie could share homemade Barbie clothes even though Tammy had a smaller bust, a thicker waist and bigger calves---in other words she was more realistic and less a poster girl for plastic surgery. Anyway---there were ball gowns of luxurious fabric complete with fur stoles, stylish pantsuits, play outfits complete with matching kerchiefs, (I am now speaking a foreign language to those not born in the 50's or 60's) and even pajamas. I cannot begin to tell you how much it meant to me to have such a fine wardrobe for my dolls. I was the envy of any friend or neighbor who came to play dolls. My imagination was fueled and my pretend play went to a whole new level. I kept putting those clothes back in the bags for years until I turned them over to my daughters. Incredible...

One more package of note was received a few years ago from my cousin's wife. She and I had had a phone conversation in which we discovered that we both loved the 1964 television special of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. She mentioned she has a collection of figurines from the show and I mentioned how great that would be. Not long after our phone conversation I was surprised and elated to receive a package in the mail containing collectible stuffed versions of the main characters from my favorite Christmas special. (She later reassured me that they were originally purchased for a small amount but they are priceless to me) I happily display them each year at Christmas---symbols of good childhood memories and thoughtful gestures.
Sometimes joy comes in the mail.

Random thought---I think a dictionary of phonetically spelled words would be helpful. I consider myself to be a capable speller but I do get frustrated when I am trying to look up the meaning of a word I don't know how to spell...

A Doggone Good Question

Sometimes I ask myself the question, 'Why do we have dogs?' (Not why do dogs exist but why does our family own two of them) Maybe it's because I have always fancied how unique plastic carpet runners look on my furniture or the slightly wild texture that dog hair adds to my clothing. Maybe it's because it forces me to be vigilant about keeping doors closed, things picked up off the floor and food away from the edge of the table or because I prefer the soft sounds of whining and snuffling under my door to the startling sounds of my alarm clock... Of course the real reason is because we had an angel dog named Beth for eight years who made our home somehow more complete and when she passed away we told our two youngest children still living at home that we would get another dog. As much as we missed Beth we didn't miss the hairy coating on all surfaces in our home or the squishy land mines in the grass so it took us a year and a half before we actually got another dog.

We rescued Zoey from the shelter. One of our daughters was drawn to Zoey because she was sitting quietly while all the other dogs were barking and she has the captivating quirk of one lazy ear that flops while her other ear stands up straight. She was skinny and only cautiously friendly. She was supposed to be a Greyhound/Visla mix. We were later told she was probably mostly Belgian Malanois--definitely a herding breed of some sort. She does run like a greyhound and she is quite smart like a herding dog but she is very skittish and hides her fears behind frightening barking and gnashing of teeth---not real warm to people. She also bites at peoples' heels and loves to pull up chunks of grass just for fun. Did I mention we noticed right away that Zoey was definitely another dog---not like our Bethy at all.

Zoey was so much fun that we decided to get yet another dog. Actually we were hoping a second dog would help Zoey use up some of her energy and calm her. My husband was tired of being outnumbered by girls so he wanted a male dog---a beagle to be specific. (You see the captain of the ship on the television show called Enterprise---yet another Star Trek byproduct-- has a beagle so if my husband has a beagle then that takes him one step closer to being captain of a star ship--which would make him very happy and he would be very good at it too) We have now had Bo the Tri-Colored Beagle for a year. He is cute and affectionate. He is a voracious eater which I understand is part of the breed and he loves to chew. He chewed up a remote for my husband's big screen television (my husband does share the television with the rest of the family, but like the remote control, it is really his) and he still kept his happy home which proves how much my husband likes him. I think Zoey enjoys having company and she behaves a bit better just to show us that she is the good dog---because she doesn't have drooling jowls that slime furniture and people, she doesn't run away to find food at the neighbors, and she doesn't chew up remotes. My youngest daughter says that Zoey is like a thin exotic model and Bo her wealthy portly little man friend. They do make an interesting pair. Zoey loves to play more than anything and Bo loves to eat more than anything. They are both a bit crazy but then again so are we---that is why we are their owners...

One particularly pesky habit all too often displayed by both of our dogs gives me good reason to ask the question, 'Why do we have dogs?' Zoey and Bo rush to the fence like barking maniacs whenever a dog on the other side gets too close to the fence or breathes too loudly. The barking would be bad enough but they also claw and bite at the fence and then gag up pieces of fence. We have four neighbors bordering our backyard. Three of them have dogs. We have shredded fence slats and posts in three main spots. I know that according to dog experts they are exhibiting territorial dominant aggressive behavior---they are defending their space but during flights of fancy I can imagine the neighbor dogs taunting our dogs by muttering offensive remarks up close to the fence--- I've seen cats that could take you---you bark like a girl dog---I see you eat dog food, my people feed me steak off the grill---you are so lucky there's a fence here---What if people were that territorial? (Maybe they are--maybe I am---like when I grumble when someone pulls into a parking space next to me before I have had a chance to exit my vehicle or when I would get kind of irritated when a very tall adult would sit in a seat right in front of one of my children at a movie or when I feel crowded when another family puts their blanket a little too close to my picnic at the park---you know those little moments of guilty irritation--moments that I try to follow up with some self-talk on the need to share---luckily I don't bite fences---I don't even like toothpicks) When our dogs exhibit this frustrating behavior I try to tell them 'no' in my most authoritative voice and they stop---for at least two minutes or until my neighbors call their dogs in either because the barking is getting to them or my repeated commands are getting to them.

My daughter and I frequently muse about what it would be like if people acted like dogs . We are so thankful that people don't greet one another with highly personal sniffing and can you imagine hearing human scratching , growling or biting at the wall dividing bathroom stalls or voting booths or any other confined spaces where people might get to feeling territorial or defensive? On the other hand, I can picture dogs relaxing on the sofa watching television while their owners pound the wall when the person in the neighboring apartment is being noisy and saying to themselves--'there they go again, why do they do that?' I blame this line of thinking partially on a comedian/musician named Jim Stafford who years ago as part of a comedy routine asked the question, "Do you ever wonder what your dogs do when you're gone all day?" He said he thought dogs re-arrange the furniture. I had so much fun thinking about that---I really did.

Our dogs do have their good points. Zoey looks so cute and hopeful when she wants to play and if I exercised her to her heart's content I would be a lot thinner! Bo likes to cuddle and has a constant adorable hound dog expression. Petting the dogs is very soothing. I have dogs because they love me, they are fine with my silly jokes, they enthusiastically greet me, and they constantly remind me that simple pleasures are priceless and precious. My grand kids do all this and more and they don't bite the fence. Why do we have dogs?

Where to?

My daughter passed her driver's test last Saturday and that got me to thinking about driving and how much of it I have done in my lifetime. I think it would be interesting if someone kept a log of all the miles they drive from the time they get their license until they stop driving---maybe someone has...

I still have a few memories of my Driver's Ed classes. Once the teacher had us swing by his house and he came out eating something and I complained about him not bringing back something for his drivers. One time I was driving down a curved slope on my way back to the school from a road drive and I got distracted and made a slightly scary over correction to avoid jumping the curb. My teacher stayed very calm and I was very embarrassed but thankful I hadn't crashed. Speaking of crashes--- I also remember a gruesome movie that was shown to all of the Driver's Ed classes. I think it was called mechanized death or something. (An updated version is still shown today) It showed the gory consequences of careless driving. Multiple Driver's Ed classes were packed like sardines in one classroom so I had to stand throughout the entire movie trying hard not to faint (and I don't faint easily). The movie made a lasting impression and for the most part accomplished its purpose of scaring me into being cautious but I think it also had something to do with me not being very eager to drive once I got my license. My Mom would think up errands just to get me driving. Oddly enough, something that helped me relax a bit about driving was riding with a gutsy friend of mine either to college classes or just goofing off. She got a cute little white stick shift Pontiac Sunbird for a graduation gift. She could eat, drink, and shift with the greatest of ease. No worries---

Before I got married I logged most of my driving hours commuting from my home to college. Then there were drives downtown in my little blue Pinto to work at J.C. Penney (I got cheap thrills and good steering practice going quite fast down their parking ramp) and then drives to discos including one clear in Orem---The Disco Palace I think it was called--(I hear laughing but it was truly a big event in an LDS disco queen's life to go to the super cool Disco Palace) that I went to one winter with some friends. I drove in my little Mustang II with a heater and defrost that didn't work. I took blankets for my friends but since even back then I knew it wasn't good to drive with a blanket over your legs, my dancing feet were pretty much frozen by the time I made it home.

After marriage my driving was mainly to and from work and when our first daughter was going on two we moved to a place I had only known before as a turning around spot on Sunday drives. It put us quite a ways from my parents. Although a friend from California once said that what is considered a long commute or drive to a Utahan really isn't long at all. As a stay-at-home mom most of my driving consisted of short trips---to the grocery store, the library, dentist and doctor appointments---the main long trips were to visit my parents

Once my kids were in school and old enough to have social calendars of their own I soon fell--notice I did say fell not slipped-- into the role of Chauffeur Mom. Of course the only thing I had in common with regular chauffeurs was the driving and the waiting. I never had a real smart looking uniform and there were times I wished for a clear divider between myself and the back seats. It would have been soothing to my sometimes frazzled nerves to block out some of the arguing and whining. But on second thought with a divider I would have missed out on a lot of fun and interesting conversations...

All of our kids at one time attended schools out of our neighborhood so I spent a fair amount of time taking my kids to school and picking them up. Luckily we carpooled most of the time. Carpools bring their own unique drama and adventure to daily life---for the most part we were fortunate(blessed in some cases) to be in good ones. After giving me a day off my husband remarked how challenging it must be to get anything done because of my day being so broken up into small windows of time. I think I gave him an 'if you only knew' smile. The days that were not my days to drive did hold a certain amount of luxury. All the school driving was hectic but it definitely had its good times and brings back good memories. It was fun to hear the chatter of the kids. Sometimes they would play games. Sometimes they would be very tired and quiet and sometimes they would have fun listening to our eclectic collection of music. Weird Al, Kermit Unpigged, Cheech Marin's songs for kids, Dr. Demento---were all part of our School Car Pool play list. You can't help but have a good time listening to Miss Piggy and Ozzy Osbourne rock out on Born To Be Wild. Of course in the early days we would listen to a local radio station for kids called The Imagination Station. It was there that we were introduced to such unique songs as Fish Heads and Star Trekin. I enjoyed that station every bit as much as my kids. (okay--maybe even more) It made me giggle and made driving fun. Unfortunately, the station was bought out by Radio Disney which is kind of like your favorite Mom and Pop drive-in being bought out by McDonald's. There goes the uniqueness. Sometimes I felt like the car and I were on autopilot because of traveling the same roads so often to and from school but those days passed all too quickly. For all my complaining, there was actually something comforting driving my kids places. The day you wave to your child as they take off by themselves in the car with a license of their own is the day you know nothing will ever be the same again...

So any way...I have driven many many miles since I got my very first brand new super exciting driver's license and sometimes I love to have someone else drive me places, but after having a mom who wasn't able to drive and watching my Dad have to give up driving and all the independence that goes with it when he got Alzheimer's, I am grateful that I have a license to drive. It does come in handy having your children be drivers (Someday they will probably be taking me to doctor and dentist appointments and hopefully to the library---maybe we can listen to Weird Al---) although at first it is indescribably frightening.

Happy driving! What's the view from your windshield?

Remembering

Before we put the wash out on Monday's wash line---

A good friend of mine pointed out some possible 'false elements' in my analogy in my last blog in which I compared illegal immigrants to thieves who break into my home (which I extended to include my country).

First of all, I really appreciate her sharing the view from her window. In writing a blog I want to share my views but I would also like to have others share their views with me. When I hear what others have to say I gain new perspectives and I give further thought to my opinions and have a stronger desire to broaden my exploration of the topics I choose to write about.

Now back to my analogy...my friend pointed out that the United States has made the laws responsible for allowing the illegal immigrants to help themselves to free education, medical care, etc. In some respects our country does leave the door open with tempting good stuff left out on the counter within easy reach but then sporadically gets angry with intruders taking advantage of such an appealing opportunity. My friend mentioned how shameful it is that people are deported in the middle of the night and families are torn apart because suddenly the United States decides to tighten those laws that have been so loose. She also pointed out that the United States often makes it a ridiculously long and difficult process for people to obtain legal residence. All of these points are valid and well made. They are also well taken. The United States has been wishy washy at best and hypocritical at worst when it comes to matters of immigration. We would do well in this country to put our energies and passion into correcting or changing ineffectual laws and defending our constitution instead of into name calling, side-taking, and venomous attitudes toward other people.

If I leave my home unattended and the doors open then when someone comes onto my property and helps themselves to my possessions then yes, I need to be more responsible in properly safeguarding my home but the person is still trespassing and they are still guilty of a crime. People commit crimes for various reasons. Some people just want to take because they can or because they feel they have a right of some sort, others take because they feel they have no choice. I wonder what I would do if I felt like the only way to properly take care of my family and give them a future would be to flee my country? How would I feel about the tantalizing freedoms just across the border and what would I do to obtain them?

It is obviously necessary and wise to protect and defend our borders. Laws need to be clearly defined and consistently enforced. People from other countries should be welcome but should also be understanding of our cause for caution. People who want to really immigrate need to want to become Americans. This doesn't mean that they should be expected to give up all ties to their native country or turn their backs on their heritage. It would be un-American of us to expect that but welcoming positive cultural contributions is a very American thing to do. Notice I say positive contributions---not all cultural customs are good (Including some American cultural customs). Some should be left behind because they contributed to the reasons for wanting to leave the home country in the first place. I think sometimes we have become so engrossed with embracing diversity in our country that we end up giving a cold shoulder to unity. Elder Dallin H. Oaks said that diversity is a means to an end not an end---unity should be the end goal. I really like the Oxford Dictionary definition of unity from an artistic perspective: the state of forming a complete and pleasing whole. Each of us regardless of ethnic background should bring our best to forming a more perfect union---building a strong nation under God with liberty and justice for all. (Yes, here is where music by the Tabernacle Choir fades in...)
That's enough for now...

Today is Memorial Day---a day to pause and think about the fact that freedom has a cost. Our freedoms have been won and defended at the sacrifice of young promising lives. We enjoy the personal circumstances in which we live because of sacrifices of those who have gone before us in our families. Today is a day to remember and to be grateful.

When I was a kid Memorial Day was a day of visiting the cemetery and having a backyard barbeque. The day began with cutting bouquets of lilacs, irises, snowballs, and peonies and putting them in a bucket of water to take to the cemetery. It was my job to hold the bucket securely between my feet. We would stop and pick up my grandma on our way to Elysian Gardens in Salt Lake. That was the only cemetery we visited because my Dad's deceased family members were all buried in Texas. My sister spooked me by telling me that it was bad luck to step on grave stones. I used to worry about what would happen to me if I came close at all to the markers. I was fascinated by reading the markers and wondering about the lives of those who rested there. The cemetery was like one epic drama with a variety of characters and time periods and numerous story lines but only scattered details. There were elements of tragedy and true love, valor and mystery. To this day I thoroughly enjoy walking through cemetaries. For the most part they are peaceful and lend themselves to quiet contemplation. However, I don't think I would relish walking through one at night. Cemeteries are resting places but some people seem to rest more serenely than others...

It seems like older people are the main denizens of decorating cemeteries. They most likely have a greater conscious appreciation for the value of life and of remembering. They have grown closer to those whose graves they visit both in a physical sense and in a spiritual sense. My mother-in-law was just saying how hard it was for her now to go to the cemeteries and that it was our(my husband and I) turn to take up the tradition. I have never been very consistent about making the cemetery rounds on Memorial Day. I think I just might correct that. Cemeteries do more than honor the dead--- they celebrate life. Cemeteries decorated with flowers and balloons and pinwheels show that life continues. The sting of death was truly taken away through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Life and death co-exist in mortality. Death is not the end of living and the grave is not the final resting place but it does seem appropriate that our deceased physical bodies rest in the bosom of the earth until they are joined with our spirits in eternal life.
Memorial Day is the first entry in a parade of long summer days. It is a day of breaking out the barbeque grill and dusting off the outside furniture. When I was a kid it was one of the first days (after Field Day at school) that I was allowed to wear sun suits(remember those?) or shorts.
Snow shovels have been moved behind rakes in the shed. Christmas lights are gathering dust while wind chimes are washed and hung. Coats and sweaters have been pushed back into the dark recesses of closets. Sno Shacks have popped up as spots of color in asphalt gardens. Salads sound much better than soup and the thought of homemade icecream makes our mouths water. Summer is coming...Do you notice that our anticipation of a wonderful summer ahead is heightened by our memories of summers past?

Bordering on Insanity or Who Gets Left Out in the Cold?

If I did have Monday's wash hung out today it would be cold and soggy and drooping under a wet Spring snow---kind of like my vegetable plants and Spring flowers...I'll hope and pray for the hardiness and survival of my endangered flora and be very grateful for my clothes dryer on a day like today.

I have been thinking about immigration. I know that is currently a tumultuous topic so I will tread carefully. (However, I won't try and walk on egg shells because I don't know that I am very good at it--but I will at least try and be careful) I will also preface my remarks with an admission that I am pretty simple-minded when it comes to matters of a political nature and I do tend to be led more by my feelings than by my thoughts when it comes to topics of controversy.

I am trying to grasp just how to feel and what to think about immigration and to decide which side of the debate I am on. I do know that I have read some newspaper articles that have not set well with me. These articles tell of the unfair treatment of illegal immigrants, how upset the President of Mexico is with the United States for how they are dealing with people from his country illegally crossing our borders, and how angry people in the United States are with Arizona for employing stronger measures to secure their borders and ensure the safety of their citizens. There is something not right with these perspectives. Like I said, they do not set well with me---kind of like a type of food that many people say is good and try to get you eat but it tastes a little off, it's a bit hard to swallow and doesn't digest smoothly...all leading me to wonder just how good it is...

I find that analogies help me to better process information so here goes...

The United States of America is my home. My state of Utah, my city of Riverton, my community, my neighborhood, the street where I live, and my very hearth and home all act simultaneously as important arteries that pump the lifeblood from the heart of America which is freedom and veins that keep the freedom circulating.

Many homes in America, including my own, have locks on their doors and fences around their outlying property. Is this because we are selfish and don't want to share? No. It is to protect our families and to defend what we have worked hard to obtain. It doesn't mean we lack generosity or compassion it just means we are trying to be wise stewards. It has been evidenced time and time again in the past that The United States of America is the country that provides not only opportunity but protection and aid. It is the country that takes care of its own and reaches out to others. But the reason it has been such a strong and prosperous country that is strong enough to be a valuable ally is because it has been a wise and prudent country both in matters of defense and diplomacy.

I would not take kindly to people sneaking in my back door or breaking in through a basement window to help themselves to my family's food or clothing or bank accounts and how would I feel about these people complaining about the quality of what they were taking or what would I think if they claimed to be victims of my anger or unfair treatment of them? But what if these people didn't have all of the resources and opportunities that I do? Then I would be much more willing to help them if they came to the front door. I would be sad, frightened, and greatly surprised if my neighbors accused me of being mean if I didn't continue to let people break into my house and help themselves to my belongings. It would be much more sane and productive if my neighbors worked with me on coming up with a solution to the problem.

I have no problem with America welcoming people from other countries but if those people decide to move in then they need to abide by the house rules. They need to learn the language, obey the laws, and do what they can to contribute to the country's greatness. I expect no less of my children in my home and America should expect no less from it's citizens. This is the difference between adopting a country as your own and kidnapping a country and holding it for ransom. When boundaries are blurred, rules are only weakly enforced and consequences are inappropriate for the choices made or non-existent then confusion contaminates cooperation and chaos rules. When this is the climate in a home then children are spoiled, do not learn self-sufficiency or responsibility for their actions, and are very likely to rebel and destroy the peace. When this is the climate of a country then its citizens become at best apathetic and at worst tyrannical and the country is well on its way to crumbling or falling under the rule of those who only care about their own freedom.

I think the President of Mexico should be concentrating on how to strengthen and improve his country instead of pilfering a right to complain about unfair treatment of his people who are fleeing his country. That seems similar to neglectful parents who sue their neighbor because their unsupervised children get injured after sneaking into the neighbor's yard. Arizona's new law as I understand it could lead to inconvenience or unfair bias for legal immigrants but as my husband pointed out...even meter maids can be biased against whoever...all laws can be abused if we allow them to be---look at the laws about entering our country. We always hope to have sensible people enforcing our laws and should do all we can to make that happen. I have heard that this law would actually in some ways prevent racial profiling. Arizona has had a lot of problems with drug trafficking and kidnappings. I think they are just trying harder to defend their home by exercising reasonable and warranted caution. It is sad that so many of their fellow Americans fail to see this and think that it is somehow offensive to ask people to identify themselves.

I do think there are companies and individuals in the United States who have taken advantage of illegal immigrants. I think many of us have benefited in some way by illegal immigrants being overworked and underpaid. Because of this I think the United States bears a responsibility to find some sensible way to help those illegal immigrants who want to become law-abiding contributing citizens of the United States of America and who have already made positive contributions. I think that many involved in the immigration debate are not thinking clearly. I think many who are in favor of relaxing our border control and complete amnesty are confusing generosity with vulnerability and that is endangering our country. There are some on the other side of the issue who are so angry with illegal immigrants that their anger can turn into consuming hatred and rampant prejudice that threatens brotherly love that can foster an atmosphere of peace and respect. I also think that many people in politics are more concerned with popularity and personal agendas than they are with the principles on which America was founded and what will truly be best for our country. The voice of the people is all too often drowned out by the self-serving mantras shouted by the media. Common sense used to be highly valued by Americans but now it seems there are those who consider it to be overrated. Perhaps we all need to tread more carefully and not only be careful where we step but in what direction our chosen path will lead us. God Bless America---please. What do you think?

Well the view outside my window is much more cheering than it was earlier. The snow has melted, the sun is out, and it looks as if most of our plants will survive. Being hung out to dry can be positive when it comes to wash or wet plants...