All In A Days Work

We’re getting our garden in late this year – the weather hasn’t cooperated. The garden actually should have gone in a couple of weeks ago but it was still snowing a couple of weeks ago.

I enjoy working in the garden. I love to plant things and watch them grow. I love to see those tiny little plants and seeds that we painstakingly planted and nurtured at the beginning of spring turn into a veritable jungle, and then go with childlike wonder and gather the produce that seems to have magically appeared. I love ooohing and aaahhhing with our children over the treasures we’ve collected, and we especially love biting into the wonderful delicacies that our garden gives us each year.

( There's another small row to the left that's not covered in plastic yet, but we'll get there.)

In addition to fresh fruits and vegetables, I’ve discovered that working in the garden offers other gifts as well. Do you ever hear a song or a sound or smell something that takes you back in time? Yesterday as I was working the garden (for the fourth day in a row) I was down on my knees in the dirt surrounded by the privacy of our back fence when I became aware of a symphony of crickets going on around me.

For a brief moment the present melted away and I was back on the small farm I grew up on. I could see the tree-lined fields and smell the freshly tilled dirt. The fresh spring air was sweetened with the scent of honeysuckle and a symphony of crickets filled the evening with their spring concerto. The woods we played in, built clubhouses in and explored as children were just beyond the fields. The sun was setting just beyond the peach orchard and just for a moment the feelings and memories of childhood flooded my consciousness in a welcome breath of fresh air.

Many are the gifts that working in the garden brings.

Running On

My husband and son ran another 5K race this morning despite the cold and the rain. This is a tradition that started when DJ was seven. Their first race together was the “Canyon Ice-Breaker” in May of 2001. It wasn’t raining that day but it was extremely cold, hence the name of the race.

Today’s race left DJ with his best time so far; 20 minutes and 54 seconds. He took third in his age group. Dave finished in 21 minutes and 43 seconds, taking third in his age group as well. DJ thinks it’s kind of cool that he’s starting to beat his dad’s times now.

They’ve run lots of races since that first race seven years ago. They average about 6 or 7 races a year. They’ve run 5K’s (3.1 miles), 10K’s (6.2 miles), a two-day relay called the Wasatch Back Relay (3 legs that total between 15 – 17 miles), a half marathon (13.1 miles) and my husband has run a marathon (26.2 miles).

DJ was about eleven when they ran their first half-marathon (13.1 miles). He finished in 1 hour and 45 minutes, actually a little before his dad who finished in 1 hour and 57 minutes. That could’ve been in part because Dave was running in terrible shoes and his legs were killing him. I seem to recall those shoes being duct taped together, but my husband says no, the bottoms were just falling off, but assures me that he wasn’t aware of this until after the race.

The two are currently training to run a marathon together in September. They are quite excited about it. All I have to say is, “To each his own!”

Congratulations guys!!

Some things never change

Under Attack

I don’t know about the rest of you but for the past few weeks we’ve been under attack. Our enemy knows no bounds, is no respecter of persons, and comes in a variety of shapes and sizes. Just when we think we’ve beaten him he pops back up in full force. The enemy I’m referring to is the dreaded common weed.

Every year we try to figure out a way to get the yard, flowerbeds and garden prepared in such a way as to not have to work quite so hard the coming summer. But every year our enemy returns and he brings his friends.


If we cover, treat or cement one spot he finds a crack or crevice to pry his way through. If he can’t find that he’ll be so bold as to pop up straight through the weed block – that is not suppose to be possible, but he is a cunning, determined, resourceful enemy.

There are times I find myself wanting to run, screaming from the battlefield, and others that I simply want to barricade myself in our home and pretend he doesn’t exist.

Yesterday however it was time for a counterattack. The conditions were just right - it had rained the last couple of days and the ground was soft, unlike the normal cement like texture it possesses when dry – so we gathered our weapons - gloves, kneeling pad and garbage can and headed for the front lines.

My husband and I decided it would be more efficient to attack in different places, so we wished each other luck and headed in opposite directions. The jungle was dense; it was hard to tell who was friend and who was foe. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to find my way out. Things started to look grim; I didn’t think we’d ever be able to win this battle.

Just when I was ready to throw my hands up in surrender our children decided to send out a search party and came to our aid. They joined us on the front lines and helped us turn the tide. When the dust cleared and the weeds were swept away, imagine our delight to discover that our front flowerbed, in addition to previously being the home of an innumerable host of weeds, also contained a rosebush, bleeding hearts, peonies, salvia, delphiniums and mums.

In an attempt to help thwart the re-infestation of weeds we are planning to beef up our defenses next week and bring in alyssum, that sweet innocent looking flower that spreads quickly to take over any unoccupied ground, and snapdragons, the name alone should strike fear into the hearts of the attackers. We’ll hedge up our weak spots with weed block and mulch and as a final result we’ll booby trap the ground with Preen.

We know this is only one small victory and there are many battlefields yet to conquer; still, small though our victory may be, it is nonetheless sweet, as we look out over our front flowerbed and enjoy the beauty.

How do you defend against the weeds?

Revisiting the Past

Just recently I read about the value going back through our journals if we have them. In the book, Life Lessons for Women, from the creators of Chicken Soup for the Soul, the reader is encouraged to “…look back over your life, not with a critical eye, but rather to discover the connecting thread that gives your life rhythm and meaning. In recalling our lives we re-collect ourselves.”

I don’t know about the rest of you but I don’t remember a whole lot from my past. Oh, I remember some things but there’s a lot that I’ve forgotten. So I decided to round up as many of my old diary and journal entries as I could find – thank goodness for the counsel from my church to keep a journal and for the schoolteachers who “made” me do it.

I’ve spent the last week or so traveling back in time and revisiting my past. It’s been an enlightening journey of contrasts. I’ve laughed and cried, stood in awe of strengths forgotten, shook my head at foolishness and silly worries, rejoiced and sorrowed, felt gratitude and remorse. But most important of all, I reacquainted myself with a girl that I had all but forgotten existed.

I am just to the end of my second year of college right where I’m getting ready to leave to serve a mission for my church. I’m excited to see what new adventures will be brought back to my memory next. I find myself repeatedly saying, “I don’t remember that!” I’m especially excited to get to the part where I meet my husband and reminisce about our courtship, wedding and early years of marriage. I hope I wrote lots, we’ll see.

For some, the thoughts of revisiting the past may not be a very inviting prospect. Sometimes the past holds painful memories, but I love what Jack Canfield said about that in his book, The Success Principles, “Just take a deep breath and realize that this is all part of the process of your journey. Everything in the past has actually been perfect. Everything in your past has led you to this transformative moment in time. Everyone – including you – has always done the best they could with what they knew at the time. Now you are about to know more.”

So if you have a minute and are so inclined, take some time and revisit your past. If you don’t have a journal, look through old pictures and see what memories come to mind; call a relative and chat about the past; or just take some quite time and reflect back over your life. Try to capture some of those memories on paper or tape. You’ll be glad you did and so will your loved ones.

I Remember When…

I remember when my children thought it was cool when I broke into song unexpectedly.
-----Now I hear, “Shush Mom! We’re in public!!”

I remember when my children giggled at the funny stories I use to make up to explain things.
-----Now they teasingly roll their eyes and say, “Oh Mom.” (But I think they secretly still enjoy them.)

I remember when my children thought I knew everything.
----- Now they wonder if I know anything.

I remember when my kids thought it was fun for me to “rock out” to the tunes with them in the car.
-----Now they say, “Mom! Someone might see you!!”

I remember when my threatening them with a spanking was a scary thing -- okay that was never scary for them. One day when my daughter was about four or five and misbehaving. I’d had enough and I told her that if she didn’t behave I was going to spank her. She stopped what she was doing, looked at me, giggled and said, “Oh Mommy, you’re so funny!”
-----Now I know there’s no hope of a threat of a spanking being a scary thing. This realization sank in while we were in the grocery store and I threatened to turn my 6’1” son over my knee if he didn’t stop giving me a hard time. He just looked at me and grinned.

I remember when I thought I would be watching Barney and Sesame Street for the rest of my life.
-----Now I wish I could hold them on my lap again.

I remember when I thought I would give anything to be able to sleep through the night again.
-----Now I wish I could make time stand still and keep them with me forever.

Enjoy them while you have them, time goes by so fast. People use to tell me that, usually on the days when I was at my wits end. I didn’t it understand then, but I do now.

Have You Ever...

I think some days we have just a little more on our plates than we should. A few months ago I was out running errands. It had been a very long week, I had stretched myself just a little too thin and I was very tired.

My last stop was the grocery store and I wanted to hurry and get finished before school let out. After I rounded up all the things I needed, I headed to the cash register to check out. The cashier, a young lady, rang up my groceries and told me the total.

I began to write out my check while she finished bagging the groceries. Everything was going along smoothly until I got to the line for my signature. I stopped and looked blankly at the line.

My mind had gone completely blank. I knew where I was, where I lived, where I’d parked, etc. - it wasn’t amnesia or anything like that; I just couldn’t for the life of me think of my name so I could sign that check.

The cashier noticed the puzzled look on my face and looked at me questioningly. I looked at her and said, “I can’t remember my name. I knew it this morning.”

The young cashier got the funniest look on her face. I could tell she was torn between thinking I was either jerking her chain or that I’d stolen those checks. I’m sure she was trying to decide whether to laugh or call the police.

Fortunately I happened to glance at the top of my check. I said, “Oh never mind, it’s right here at the top.”

I wish I’d had a camera. The look on her face was priceless. Fortunately I think she was too shocked to call the police.

Have you ever forgotten your name? * smile *

Happy Mother's Day!

I am so grateful for my mom and all the things she’s done for me in my life. I didn’t truly appreciate all the time, sacrifice and effort that went into raising my brothers and me until I became a mom myself. She was and is a trooper and there were times she probably just should have smacked us and been done with it. * smile * (She may still feel like that some days.) But she stuck with us, put up with us and, even if I do say so myself, I think she did a pretty good job with us. Now this is not to ignore my dads, they helped too * smile * but today it’s all about moms.

My mom has been a great blessing in my life. She taught me to be strong and determined, to try new things and to work hard – although when I was a kid she probably thought I missed that lesson. * smile * I will be forever grateful for all that she’s done and continues to do for me and all that she’s taught me.

In addition to my mom I’ve had other wonderful women bless my life. I don’t believe you have to be someone’s biological mom or even have kids to mother. I am so grateful for all the wonderful women that have touched my life, there’s too many to name them all but I have to tell you about a few.

I have a second mom that’s married to my first dad. (My second dad taught me that we don’t have steps in our family. I’ve been blessed to have four parents to love me and to learn from.) I appreciate her example as well and how kind she’s always been to our family. She’s quick to send a thoughtful note or do kind things. She has great taste and is very fun to shop with. * smile *

I have wonderful grandmothers who have blessed my life. I stand in awe of them, their strength and their goodness. Two made the best biscuits in the world and their smiles were like sunshine that could brighten even the darkest day.

One grandmother had her own catering business; you could gain 10 pounds just looking at the scrumptious dishes she and my aunt created. She’s still here and she still makes me smile.

Another grandmother could grow anything. I loved to go to her house and walk through her yard (it should have been called a garden). Every flower you can possibly imagine always seemed to be blooming in her yard. To this day just the sight of hyacinths transports me back to her yard and the sound of her cheerful laugh.

Yet another grandmother set the example of marching to the beat of your own drum; not conforming or following the crowd. She was strong and determined. She dared to be different and did it with attitude. People may not have always agreed with her, but you couldn’t help but respect her determination.

Another person that I loved dearly was my Great Aunt Vivian. She never married or had children of her own but she was one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. She was strong, independent and loving. She worked hard and blessed the lives of all those who were fortunate enough to know her. She taught me how to crochet and helped me make my first formal dress for The Gold & Green Ball. I believe she could have done anything.

Another woman who’s been a blessing in my life is my mother-in-law. I am so grateful for the son she raised and the things she taught him. She helped raise a wonderful man and I will be forever grateful. I really appreciate her kindness to our family and me.

I love all the women who’ve been a part of helping me become the person I am. I am so grateful for them and for their influence. A few of them have passed on and I can’t tell them today how much I love and appreciate them and how they have blessed my life. But I can tell those still here.

Thank you Mom, Myrtle Grandma and Uvonne. I will be forever grateful!!

Today on Mother’s Day, take the time to tell the women who’ve blessed your life how much you appreciate them. If Mother’s Day has passed and you haven’t done it yet, take time to do it now.

Say What?

Okay, you’d think there wouldn’t be any problems in communication with just moving from one part of the United States to the other. But I’ve discovered that even after living in the West for 22 years (I was born and raised in the South) that I still say things that make my family stop in their tracks and stare blankly at me – at least that’s what they do for a few seconds before they start laughing.

For example, a couple of days ago my daughter was running late for school and I was still trying to help everyone else get situated and headed out the door. When she was finally ready to go I grabbed my keys, turned to my husband who was hugging her goodbye and said, “Okay, I’m going to run her over.”

They stopped in mid-hug looked at me blankly and then my husband burst out laughing and she started giggling. My husband asked, “Why are you going to run over her?”

For those of you still lost, “I’m going to run her over” interpreted is, “I’m going to take her over to the school.” It seems I get laughed at quite often for some of the things I say. The funny thing is they don’t sound strange to me.

Lest you think this is a rare occurrence here are a few more examples:

When I feel like I’m getting sick I’ll say, “I’m tryin’ to get sick.” My husband wants to know why I’m trying to get sick.

If I’ve been out running errands but have one more stop to make, I’ll tell the kids, “I’m gonna hit the grocery store and then we’ll head home.” They want to know why I’m going to hit the store.
If I want one of them to turn a light off for me I’ll ask, “Will you flip that light off for me?” That one really makes them laugh

If a door needs to be closed I’ll ask, “Will you push that door to, for me?” They want to know where I want it pushed to.

If I have a near miss while I’m driving, I’ll say, “I like to hit that car!” My husband always wants to know why I’d like to hit it.

It’s gotten to the point that on some days if I try to stop and think about what I want to say (which would probably be a wise habit for me to develop, more because of what sometimes comes out of my mouth than how I’m going to say it) I get confused and neither way, the Western way or the Southern way sounds right.

Some people may think I should blame the confusion on getting older, but I think I’ll continue to blame it on the language barrier.

Dancing With Fireflies

Have you ever tried to catch fireflies? You know, those flying flickering “night-lights” that come out just after the sun has slipped away and the muggy heat of a summer’s day has begun to melt into the coolness of evening?

I remember as a little girl waiting with my brother for the sun to go down and heading into the tree-lined alley by our house to wait for them to emerge and begin their nighttime dance.

We’d wait breathlessly watching for the first bulb to flash – we called them “lightening bugs,” and they were one of our favorite things in the whole world.

One by one their lights would begin to flicker. We’d shriek with excitement and run to join in their magical dance. We’d dash from light to light giggling with delight as we tried to capture some of their magic.

The ones we caught were placed in one of mom’s mason jars so that we could observe their dance up close. We loved to watch our temporary captives. It was like holding magic in our hands.

We held the jar in front of our faces mesmerized as we waited for each brilliant flash of light. After a few minutes we’d run to our parents to share our treasure with them. And then finally, a bit reluctantly, we’d release them so they could fly away and share their magic with someone else.

I’m older now, at least in body, though not in spirit. I’ve watched my own children dance with the fireflies on cool summer evenings and bask in the magic of their dance. As I watched them, time stood still and I was transported back to my own childhood. Years were bridged as the past and present connected in one glorious moment.

I believe that in a way our lives are a lot like those magical dances with the fireflies. Life is, in and of itself, a wonderful, crazy, adventure, but there’s so much more to be enjoyed if we do more than go through life as spectators.

I believe that life is meant to be lived, embraced, enjoyed, and shared; and the memories released to share their magic with others - past, present and future – as time stands still in glorious moments of connection.

So take a minute, “dance with the fireflies” and capture some of the magic.