A Venting Housewife Speaks

A few weeks back I was with a group of friends that I blog with over at Conversation. The evening went very well, and it was so nice to finally meet these incredible women and put a face to their words. However, at one point ,as I am want to do, I spewed forth my passionate opinion in a way that came off as a confused mess of words; more than likely not ones that expressed what I was really trying to say, but rather just words.

The subject was "feminism". A hot one for sure and one that I am indeed passionate about. I used to label myself as a feminist. Now I try not to label myself at all, because as I have grown older I realize that everything is black and white, but also shades of gray. (here comes that split personality...) It's is like the story of Les Miserables. Stealing is stealing and to take something that is not yours is wrong. But if you are starving and take a loaf of bread to survive it is much different than stealing a car just for the thrill of it. Black and white, shades of gray.

Feminism. S'mee has incredible problems living in a society that is considered to be the leader of the world in human rights, yet denies so many of these basic rights still. S'mee thinks all of the Congress, Senate and local leaders should "vacation" in the Ozarks for two weeks and live as the Mountain Folk do. Perhaps then we could get somewhere with medical aide, and social programs that would actually help. We have third world conditions within our own borders that seem to elude most of us. Have we not seen the mentally ill out on the street? Have we not witnessed the "not in my back yard" attitude that places more ill in neighborhoods that are to the brink already?

In 2005 how can the United States of America allow states to refuse entrance to country clubs due to religion and race and in some cases sex? However S'mee can understand the rights of refusal to allow entrance to religious buildings due to one's religion and adherence to its' particular laws. It's a conundrum.

S'mee is horrified at the reality of the situation of women in many countries around the world where women are not only devalued, but ignored as human beings. This is where the feminists should focus passions.

S'mee is angry that in some states in our blessed Union, women have lip service as far as their legal rights, but in reality men abuse their power and these same women are underpaid and worse. Case in point, S'mee's daughters having a more difficult time receiving grants, scholarships, and loans, due to their sex and marital status and lack of children.; while men and minorities with the exact same qualification as these young women are eligible for loans, aide, etc.. The U.S. and state governments encourage single women to have children out of wedlock in order to receive financial aide. (#3 was asked to get pregnant without marriage and #5 was told that "your mom needs to be dead and your dad needs to be in prison" before either would qualifiy for certain loans/aide. Both daughters have GPA's 3.9 and above and always have.) This is a "legal" way to oppress women.

S'mee agrees that there are true reasons to be and to label oneself as "feminist". However, S'mee feels it rediculous to label oneself as a feminist and then complain about the oppressions one places upon herself. If I allow you to oppress me, who's fault is it? If I choose to be abused, who is the abuser? I am not talking about women who find themselves in situations, marriages or countries where they have been lulled into abuse. S'mee has and continues to work with Domestic Violence Shelters and acknowledges the patterns of abuse that lead to psychological slavery. I am talking about making free and clear choices and then complaining about it when we could change it if we would. About allowing someone to demean me in my presence and not taking a stand to correct it.

S'mee gets angry at women who, through their "own free will and choice", have said "yes" to husband and children and then complain about their "burdens". Women who live in relative freedom to do as they wish, with husbands who work (either alone or along side of the same women) for the benefit of the family and then complain about their living conditions.

These same women gripe and complain about the silliest things, things which given a few years perspective will appear as just that - silly. Women who have been given challenges such as, "Change Diaper, gasp, make dinner, gasp, pay bills, gasp, doctors appointments, gasp, odd jobs to make ends meet, gasp, entertain 3 young’en, gasp, clean clean clean, gasp, ballet lessons, gasp, avoid punks, gasp, blog, gasp, practice piano, gasp, prepare sunday school lesson, gasp, panic, panic, gasp, gasp. Ahhhhh !!!!!!"1 ; they chose to receive, and then are upset because this is all they have to accomplish. You are the mom. You chose to be a mom. You can act like the mom. Moms have to teach right and wrong and keep the offspring alive and relatively healthy. (Mosiah 4:14-15) You can say "no" once in a while. No one said your kids had to do every thing they want; that food had to be this or that, trendy clothes, or to go to every party they are invited to; no one said the dishes couldn't wait an hour or two or even overnight. You don't have to beat yourself up trying to be the best in town, just the best you.

Did I miss something here? Did the woman who wrote this complaint live in a cave before she was drug -blindfolded, ear plugged, and gagged and forced at gunpoint into her situation, never knowing what was in store for her as a married mother of -gasp- 3 young'en? I think this and statements similar to it reflect the youth, inexperience and ignorance of the authors. Statements like the above make it sound as if this woman was not responsible for her consequences. Perhaps she could have written the following as an explanation. "I was so uneducated about American society and motherhood. I was unobservant as to what it meant to say "yes" to all this. I never noticed my own home life as a child or young adult, I never read a book, I never watched a movie or t.v. I was so self absorbed as a child/young woman that I actually thought married life would be different! I didn't realize that I myself stayed at home needing a mom for 18+ years. I don't know how to say to my husband, "I am pooped, I need help." I had no idea the lug that I married was this way before I chose to marry him. He changed and I stayed the same as I was in high school, pretty, slim, and sweet. I don't know how to communicate my needs and wants and I just take whatever is dished out. I want to complain because I was duped!"

S'mee is frantic with the "feminists" who attached themselves to any religion and then complain about its' statutes and laws. (This does not include women who have grown up in repressive societies where "religion" has been chosen for them, without free will.) Women who accept covenants and laws and receive gifts, keys, and blessings knowing the rewards/consequences and then complain at being uncomfortable with their choice. Women who stand united and raise their hands to sustain leaders and then complain about whom they "sustain". Women who do accept these things, then complain about them say to the world, "I was ignorant and made the choice without regard to the result. I went in blind and came out mad." The women who write these complaints seem educated and able to read, why have they chosen so wrongly? And, whose fault is their condition?

Women who vote for this leader or that and then complain while said leader is in office. Women who complain about the children of the world who are essentially slave labour in foreign countries, and workers of both genders who are enslaved in off shore companies and then turn around and shop at Banana Republic, Jones New York, Abercrombie and Fitch, and other "fine" manufacturers who do such practices as "good business". Women who shop Walmart because they want to pay less while others are being paid less due to their sex to work and maintain the store (and it's profit margin). Women who say they are feminists who really just are self-ists.

S'mee thinks most (not all) of these women have latched onto a cause in an effort to vent their self anger and blame someone else for their poor choices. Women who need validation from other "smart intelligent" women instead of finding their own worth. Women who, for some odd reason, can't feel their own worth because they are worried about the differences in biological functions. Women who buy into what they hear instead of searching it out for themselves, or who close their minds to the fact that they just might learn something later they don't understand now. Women who forget that there is always Someone smarter and that eventually all things will make sense; eventually can mean in a year or two, or eternally. Women who think they are as smart as they will ever be and no one else understands more than they. Women who by their own words say they are valued, but search out daily those who would demean them and devalue them. They feed upon the muck of the world instead of really making a difference. They gather together like geese, and snap at anyone who oppose them in view. Isn't that a main point of feminism? To allow each individual the right to think their own thoughts? Perhaps it only means you have the right to agree with me but not to disagree, or you are stupid, uneducated, or have your head in the sand. ( I know, I can hear you now. I have just said the same. But at least I am acknowledging I can be wrong.)

I propose feminism to be a doctrine advocating the social, political, and economic rights for women equal to those of men. If that means you are upset about your religion, leave it. If your boyfriend is a jerk don't marry him. If your husband demeans you, correct him. If you don't want to be a mom, don't become pregnant in the first place. If anyone abuses or demeans you, don't put up with it, do something meaningful to change that. Use your votes in ways that matter. Work for the things that will matter in the long run. Do not accept lower wages for the same quality work and do not support merchants who do. Stop shopping without researching where and how it came into that store. Stop worrying about being the same as your neighbors, you're not and you never will be. Stop killing yourself trying to be what others want you to be. Find your own value and build your relationship with God. Stop mocking sacred things you do not yet have a full understanding of.

If I say that I am XYZ then people who read me will assume, whether for good or ill, that all I say somehow reflects on XYZ. There is a responsibility I have to try to represent XYZ folk in a reasonable manner. If I then choose to ridicule XYZ folk, practices, or leaders that is also a reflection. I hope that what I choose to proclaim does not reflect poorly on that which I deem most high and of value, including my own sex.

Perhaps some of these women could re-label themselves, Venting Housewives, and it would be more appropriate.

1. quote taken from the blog "Feminist Mormon Housewives"

The BIG day!

Saturday: The BIG day! Last night there were several frantic calls to the seamstress, who was a doll and met me VERY early at her store and gave me the dresses. Whew! So after a good stream ironing job we left for the temple and had the day of a life time.

The bride and groom had a lovely sealing and, as always, I learned something new that I wish I had known early on. Oh well, better late than never I suppose. There were photo ops and more photos and eventually the photographer sent all but the new couple away. Mom of the bride chose to stay and help the photographer, so we separated at that point.

Thor gathered with the other siblings, spouses and a stray groom's man and we had a nice lunch together. It was a great feeling to see all the family together, although we were missing the Groom and his Bride, but that will happen at a later day. Jokes and teasing are always on the menu and so were good belly laughs. Lunch finished and we all drove to the reception site. Thor and I began the final prep. He dropped me off at the hall and then went in search of lost grandparents.

I met Chronicler and the Big Guy and she set out to make her famous tartlets. Pecan and fresh strawberry were requested by the bride and they were a huge hit (as always). The caterers were a tad snarky about having someone else's tarts among their treats, but after it was all said and done, one of them actually begged for the well kept secret recipe. (sorry guys, you can't be snarky all night then ask for a sure bet recipe to be just handed over. Even if you were really nice, chances of landing that small bit of info would be hard to come by.)

Food for the evening was catered and appreciated by most. However I have to admit I am picky and there is a difference in food that has been fresh cooked and prepared as opposed to reheating frozen prepared food from a good manufacturer. I am spoiled by Chronicler's fresh ingredients and cooking. That said there were choices of chicken, rice, a broccoli salad, fruit skewers, dipped strawberries, cream puffs and 600 of Chronicler's HANDMADE from scratch tartlets.

A D.J. and a live swing band were on hand to entertain and make the evening fun. Introductions of the bridal party began the festivities, followed by dancing and generalized merrimaking! S'mee enjoyed watching all her offspring dance and have a great time. We mingled with good friends and tried to make new ones. Lots of family members traveled to come and share the joy of the day. It was incredible to see one particular aunt, fresh from her chemo session, enjoying her night. What a compliment to us and a huge sacrifice for her. We were surely blessed.

Towards the evening's end there was a special dance dedicated to Thor's mom and dad and the celebration that night of not only the newlyweds, but the "oldie-weds", mom and dad's 56th wedding anniversary. The groom asked for a special song and the two couples joined together on the dance floor. Eventually Thor and I joined in and it was a great moment with the three generations all dancing to acknowledge this legacy of eternal marriage and the joys that come from it. Past, present, future. So cool. So beautiful.

The two little love birds headed out to start their lives together and the night spun slowly down to an end. It was a big day. A great big huge fat eternal day! : >

she's come undone....

O.k. So I made a trip up to Utah just to get my daughter's dress measurements and to alter her dress so that it fit correctly. A misunderstanding between she and S'mee led to the dress not being altered at all. AT the wedding she was the gal in the size to large periwinkle number. But she looked "o.k." : l We both thought the other didn't want it altered. UGH! Anywho that dress and the other sister's dress both needed 3 inches taken off the three (yes folks -3!) layers of hems.

S'mee had #5 pin her dress in hopes of altering the mother of the groom dress.

Actually the alterations on my dress went better than I had expected. I got a pretty good fit from the marking's #5 made and after a couple of goes it was as good as it could get. O.k. So then I have #3 mark it for hemline. When I purchased the dress it was made for a nice tall Norwegian, or perhaps an exceptional Amazonian woman. Either way this dress had, not only a very long "line" but an actual train! Not as long as a bride would have, but a definite train about 8 to 12 inches. Measuring the front and finding my toes would have been an easy way to determine how much to take off, but with a train she would have to go all the way around and find the floor measurement. Grrr. But #3 did a great job.

Monday"

S'mee made the marks on all three dresses for hems, and went in search of the proper needle and a rolled hemming foot. "CLOSED MONDAYS" Ugh! I need to wait for Tuesday.

Tuesday:

SO I purchase what I need. All of the sudden everything in the world falls apart and by the time I get around to sewing, things are put off for one more day.

Wednesday:

I started with my dress and after hemming the inside fabric (very nicely, thank you) I began on the outer layer. NOt for the life of me could I get that fabric to work. I tried it all, all the tricks I could think of, tissue didn't even help. The machine wasn't "eating" the fabric it was just shredding it. I used "fray check". NOPE. Nada. Zip. So I resorted to a very ugly hem and called it a day. We needed to be YM/YW and I had run out o' time!

Thursday.

Not wanting to shred the three layers of the bridal party dresses I decided to have them hemmed by a professional. HEMMED BY A PROFESSIONAL? Yikes, how the mighty have fallen. Hemmed. Are you kidding me? But I was disparate and so, yes, I succumbed and found an alterations seamstress.

"$35.00 each dress you want hurry coast you more money."

Forget that! What is it with the $70.00 alterations lately? Egads. I find another option and this seamstress is only asking $15.00. Oh joy! Oh rapture! I drop off the dresses and tell the gal I will pick them up tomorrow at 3:30. (She needs all day to fit in our "rush" - but who cares at this point?) She closes at 4:00. No problem! Friday at 3:30, plenty of time and I am happy and grateful and stress free! YES!

Thursday night: Meet down at the church to begin decorating!

Our Big Fat Wedding begins....

Dateline: Thursday night. Two days after the endowment - which went GREAT, so cool, so wonderful to see your kid in the temple, doing the right thing and ready to be doing it. What a blessing from Heavenly Father!

So it's Thursday and we are now in the exact middle. 2 days after the endowment and two days before the wedding/sealing! Mother of the Bride (K) is going into high gear and she has a plan. Unfortunately her plan was tilted a tad by a very unpleasant false ceiling gal and her crew. "K" had seen the ceiling lady's work many times before and was impressed. A billowing cloud full of twinkle lights was ordered and expected. Long story short, the ceiling expert was miffed because "K" wanted this material instead of that material and what she eventually got was a flat ceiling made of tulle. 61/2 hours for a flat tulle ceiling. Ridiculous. More than that, ceiling lady made such a fuss about it that she refused to work if anyone was in the room, so all the help "K" had organized had to be sent home without being able to help at all.

At 12:00 midnight "K" decided to pull the plug on the ceiling and call it. It was what it was and there wasn't anything she could do about it. Let's all go home. Hmmm. Where's the doohickey that closes and locks the door? (search search search) At 12:30 a phone call was made, a Bishop was awakened from his sleep, and by 1:00 the doohickey was found, building secured and all out and headed home.

8:00 Friday: Day before the wedding. 2 moms, one bride, and one little brother are able to meet and set up for the big party. 18 tables, 180 chairs, 4 buffet tables, 2 gift tables, one cake table, and one punch table are set up and dressed. All tables have white brocade table clothes. All 180 chairs are dressed with floor length tailored covers. The large tables with floor length clothes as well. A runner of periwinkle and celery plaid is placed on all tables, the seating tables topped with floral arrangements of hydrangea, orchids, and star lilies in clear glass vases. They sit atop a mirror with 6 small tea lights and cracked "glass" chips for colour. The larger tables have double sided ribbon swags with small wreaths at the centers and corners made of tiny hydrangea blossoms, green baby apples, and eucalyptus.

The stage was draped with white fabric to resemble a "water fall" with twinkling lights underneath, tulle fluffs along the top edge, again with lights, and a floral swag of hydrangea, green apples, and eucalyptus. Behind the fluff were draped stands that held 9 photos of the new couple interspersed with three cut crystal hurricane lamps with candles.

The cake and buffet tables had the same effect as the stage with the "white water fall". The cake table was dressed with a large silver cake plateau. The cake was 3 tier, extremely smooth whipped cream frosting, decorated with woven pearls strands and pearl points. In between the tiers were full sized fresh hydrangeas and the top was the bride's mother's cake top, a crystal blown glass heart with doves.

The Punch bowl were placed inside green apple wreaths.

The buffet was decorated with lighted food stands, topiaries of green apple, and fruit skewers. All the tables had tulle fluff and the cracked "glass chips" along with fine glitter sprinkled over all for shimmer, and were lit from underneath with special lights to create a pretty glow.

Back drops were made by the groom out of wrought iron and painted black. They were "Shepard's crooks", 2, one on each side, draped in the center with periwinkle satin, gently gathered. They stood 7 feet tall and about 4 feet wide. Each curl on the crook held a small candle lit glass lantern. Behind the buffet there were five of these back drops and one each behind the cake and punch tables.

There was a fog machine and bubble machine that were set to work for certain dances to give it a terrific effect.

The entry table was placed in the foyer of the building under a large painting of the Savior's Second Coming. The blues and periwinkles of that picture along with the bridal photos blended perfectly and set the tone for the evening. A large vase of fresh hydrangeas, orchids and star lilies was placed behind the guest book and temple photos.

The surrounding walls in the reception hall were covered with draped and pleated tulle, topped with a fluffy border with twinkle lights behind. The tulle ceiling was still pretty flat, but the bride made beautiful crystal "rain drops" that hung all over the room, making the ceiling quite glittery and gorgeous. It was really great.

The room was lit well by the twinkle lights, up-lights, and candles (battery) quite well.

By 9:00 that night we were able to leave, satisfied with the result. Pretty.

By 9:00 S'mee remembered that she left the bridesmaids' dresses at the now closed alterations store without the ability to call because S'mee didn't have the phone number to call and if she did, HELLO! WE'RE CLOSED!!! A drive by the store revealed she does not work the weekends. Dresses would be hostage until Monday, 2 days after the wedding. Smooth one S'mee.

You get what you pay for

I have decided that the answer to all of our prison issues are answered in four words:

Lee. Press. On. Nails.

Yes, fake nails. Years ago S'mee had lovely long natural nails. Somewhere along the line the nails got shorter and shorter, making hard physical labour easier. Not to mention that I used to cut myself with the long ones while signing (ASL). Facial bleeding aside, there were more than one occasion when having shorter nails became a more sensible choice for S'mee.

Both of my daughters have long, pretty, natural nails. They work hard and seem to be able to manage life without too much difficulty. I think the trick is in the growing. Theory: If you grow them out naturally, you allow yourself the time and training to do whatever you have done in the past without hardship in the present.

If, perchance, you decide that an upcoming fancy event merits the $5.00 purchase of fake nail applications, well then, you have a problem. Going from short nails to long in a matter of minutes cripples you. It disables your digits in a way that make you look quite incapable of maneuvers heretofore simple such as uncapping toothpaste, turning a page, or opening a soda can.

Eventually the inevitable happens. Whilst in the sacred small room where one sacrifices to the porcelain god, one tries to pull back on "undies and nylons" and sees the small oval pink and white "French Manicure" thumbnail flying across the room, rendering you thumbnail-less (if that is a word). This occurrence will indeed happen, but only in the middle of the very important event you purchased the plastic nails for in the first place. If you wore them for ten weeks without a special event they would stay in place. Five minutes into a room where beautiful nails are requisite and they will pop off landing in the second tier of the fruit topiary centerpiece on the buffet table, in front of the snooty lady you were attempting to impress with your nice nails.

So, with the above information, I decree that all insubordinate prisoners be fitted with Lee Press On Nails. The inability to function on a normal basis will be a fine punishment. The frustration level will be sufficient to humble even the cockiest of meanies.

Addendum: #5 came home this weekend for the special event. While eating b-b-q chicken wings at a local restaurant she proclaimed them "embarrassing and not qualified as 'date food'." (date food: n. food one isn't afraid to eat in front of a member of the opposite gender while trying to impress that same person. "Linguine with garlic sauce is such a mess and has a strong odor, it isn't good date food.") "They are so slippery I can't even figure out how to get the food in my mouth! How do you bite these things?" She had so much sauce on her face, fingers and napkin that she had to ask the waiter for wetnaps, lots of wetnaps.

We have decided that if prisoners were fitted with fake nails and forced to eat b-b-q chicken wings that would really be punishment! Maybe they should save that for the death row guys.

Send me your huddled masses, your favorites list, your memes longing to be redone!

Below is a list I got from reading Lisa's Ramblings (see side bar for link please - borrowing a 'puter still...ugh!). Anywho, this inane list making type of stuff is right up my ally! I love them, especially now that I know how to copy and paste! It's the idea of getting to know someone else better, in a "does that really matter?" sort of way, but also a post you can laugh at and not have to think too much about later. Kind of like the Super Bowl commercials of the blogging world. Entertaining, but I probably won't buy it! Now it's your turn... So here we go.

A Few of My Favorite Things.
I got this list from Weeding The Garden (S'mee, as stated above, gets this from Lisa!!!) and I added a few of my own.~ "And these are a few of my favorite things" (being sung by Maria)

Colour: Green, currently that limey-60's fad-bile green, but pretty much any green will do.
Smell: New baby, baking bread, rain.
Article of Clothing: This horrid Gypsy-esque skirt with sequins and loud flowers that Thor insisted I buy "because it's artsy - like you."
Ice Cream: B&R's Chocolate Chip, Godiva Chocolate with Caramel filled Chocolate Hearts
Fast Food Place: In-N-Out
Time of the Day: Seriously - when Thor gets home (I got married for a reason, I love that man)
Laundry Detergent: Whisk, but I buy that Costco stuff in what seems to be a 40 gallon drum.
Song: "My Old Addiction" -k.d.lang, "12th of Never" -Johnny Mathis, "You Gotta Fight For Your Right To Party" -Beastie Boys
Flower: exotic daffodils, peonies, and pretty much anything very tropical and weird.
TV Show: currently Debbie Travis Painted House/Facelift but it changes- a lot!
Cartoon Character: Freakazoid
Actor/Actress: Tom Hanks, Johnny Depp, Dustin Hoffman, and Harrison Ford primarily because they don't play themselves in every movie. That guy who played the blond elf in Lord of the Rings and Johnny Depp's counter in Pirates is nice to look at (so is DENZEL!), over and over and over.... sigh. I'd have to go with gals along the line of Kathy Bates for the same reason, although I loved Kate Hepburn.
Place to Shop: sad but true, Target; if I had money it would probably be something like Restoration Hardware
Vacation Spot: So far, pretty much any beach will do. I did enjoy the North Shore of Oahu, again, sigh.
Dream Car: I really think a classic Rolls or Bentley are pretty, but I don't have the wherewithall and the guilt would kill me. Perhaps a really cool hybrid?
Movie: Chocolate? Yikes I like a tons of movies and it changes from time to time.
Restaurant: The Lighthouse on Harbour Island, just for the memories it created
Theme Park: The big "D" -Disneyland
Animal: it would have to be three of my favorite kitties, George, Lewison, and Googiewhump; all chasing each other "on a nice farm out in the country".
Day of the Week: Sunday, again because I get to spend more time with Thor on that day than any other.
Do you collect anything?: Dust Bunnies mostly, Hearts, Tiny books, children's books, art and museum books, and book books!
Favorite Hobby: Painting, Photography, traveling with Thor, Scrapbooking
Place I want to travel that I have never been: Polynesia, Ireland, Italy
Something I want to do before I die: Live!
Favorite Snack Food: Chocolate, p-nut butter celery, my popcorn

Reading Assignment

Have we thought about our freedom recently? Things such as being able to attend the religious services we choose ourselves, or being able to walk or drive pretty much anywhere we want. How about being able to choose those who would lead us and direct our government? We definitely have certain freedoms that we don’t even think about, that other countries in our world still do not.

It’s pretty true that most of us are o.k. financially. There are among us those who will need assistance from time to time, but because we have the means to assist, most Americans do not need to go hungry, walk the street to find shelter, or lack clothing and basic needs. Most of us will never empathize with having to sleep in an ally or beg for a meal.

I know there have been times, even recently, when I have been selfish with my donations, contributions,and talents; and wanted to keep what the Lord and others have given me. I think if we are all honest with ourselves we can find a time when we all have held back what we really could have shared. Sometimes we vote to benefit our situation knowing it may cause someone else hardships. Perhaps we encourage a decision in the community that would improve our neighborhood while neglecting another. Maybe we are selfish with our time or talents and feel we deserve to withhold our service because we have worked harder for the weekend than most. I know I rationalize many times to lean things towards my own good.

Have we ever over heard the following conversations? “Where would you like to go tonight for dinner?" "I don’t care, just not McDonald’s, I don’t like their chicken.” “What would you like to see at the movies this weekend?" "I want to see The Three Bears Invade Mars, but I also want to see A Chicken Roosts In Texas, but really I don’t care. You can decide.” “Who are you going to vote for in the new board elections?" "I don’t think I am even going to vote this time, it doesn’t really matter anyway, they’re all bad.”

Have you read lately about how many prisons are overcrowded? How the drug scene is overtaking our youth and prescription drugs claiming our elders? Perhaps the problems of pornography that are binding the minds of so many members of the church has been a subject for discussion. How about the stories that talk about losing our freedoms due to this new war?

Do we ever wonder about these things and why they are happening and what, if anything we can do about them?

In the August ’05 issue of the Ensign we have been challenged by our Prophet, Gordon B. Hinckley to read or reread the Book of Mormon from beginning to end by December. He also asks that we follow our reading by exercising Moroni’s promise found in Moroni 10:27-29
“And I exhort you to remember these things; for the time speedily cometh that ye shall know that I lie not, for ye shall see me at the bar of God; and the Lord God will say unto you, Did I not declare my words unto you, which were written by this man, like as one crying from the dead, yea, even as one speaking from the dust? … And God will show unto you, that that which I have written is true.”

The article that lay just after this challenge reminds us that indeed, this challenge from our Prophets has been announced more than once since the discovery of this great book.
Presidents David O. McKay, Harold B. Lee, Spencer W. Kimball, Ezra Taft Benson, Howard W. Hunter and Joseph Fielding Smith are mentioned and quoted.

Spencer W. Kimball, “This inspiring book was never tampered with by unauthorized translators or biased theologians but comes to the world pure and directly from the historians and abridger-s. The book is not on trial – its’ readers are.”

Joseph Fielding Smith, “No member of this church can stand approved in the presence of God who has not seriously and carefully read the Book of Mormon.”

Ezra Taft Benson, “The Book of Mormon is studied in our seminary classes every fourth year. This four year pattern, however, must not be followed by Church members in their personal and family study. We need to read daily from the pages of the book that will get a man ‘nearer to God by abiding to its precepts, than by any other book.’”

Nephi tells us that its contents “shall go from generation to generation as long as the earth shall stand; …and the nations who shall possess them [the teachings of the Book of Mormon] shall be judged of them according to the words which are written.” 2 Nephi 25:22

Marion G. Romney stated in 1980 General Conference concerning the afore mentioned scripture from Nephi, “there could be no more impelling reason for reading the Book of Mormon than this statement that we who have been given the Book of Mormon shall be judged by what is written in it. Moroni says that the very reason the book has been given to us that we may know the “decrees of God” Ether 2:11 set forth therein and by obedience to them escape the calamities which are to follow disobedience.

To the early saints the Lord spoke rather sharply about remembering the Book of Mormon’s teachings. “Your minds in times past”, He said to them, “have been darkened because of unbelief, and because you have treated lightly the things you have received – “Which vanity and unbelief have brought the whole church under condemnation. “And this condemnation resteth upon the children of Zion, even all. “And they shall remain under this condemnation until they repent and remember the new covenant, even the Book of Mormon.” D&C 84:54-57
Prior to this He, [the Lord], had told them that the “Book of Mormon and the Holy scriptures are given of me for your instruction.” D&C 33:16 On another occasion He, [the Lord], said, “The elders, priests, and teachers of this church shall teach the principles of My Gospel, which are in… the Book of Mormon.” D&C 42:12

It is, of course, obvious that unless we read, study, and learn the principles which are in the Book of Mormon, we cannot comply with this direction to teach them.”

Speaking in regard to the Book of Mormon the Lord gave these words in D&C 1:37- 38,

“Search these commandments for they are true and faithful, and the prophecies and promises which are in them shall be fulfilled. What I the Lord have spoken I have spoken, and I excuse not myself; and though the heavens and the earth pass away, my word shall not pass away, but shall all be fulfilled, whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, [the Prophets], it is the same.”

Nephi was asked to accomplish many things while upon the earth, some of which were extremely difficult, seemingly impossible. He was blessed each time he obeyed and his motivation is explained in 1 Nephi 3: 7 –

“And it came to pass that I, Nephi, said unto my father: I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.”

I was discussing this assignment from the Prophet with my daughter. She felt that it should be an easy challenge for us to fulfill. She mentioned a popular children’s book that has been released recently. A book in a series of exciting stories, but one that was challenged at first due to its language and length being too difficult for children to read. These books have been top sellers and there have been nothing but accolades for them since the first installment a few years back. I personally know several folks who have read these 600 and 700 page books in a matter of days.

The Book of Mormon is 531 pages with language that may be difficult to some and definitely exciting to most. The difference is that the events are real. The characters were real people. A prophet of the Lord has challenged us. “Whether by mine own voice or that of my servant…” Also we need to understand that the Lord has, and always will, provide a way for us to accomplish this.

Years ago a friend of mine gave me a challenge to find the time to read my scriptures every day. Just a minute or two if I had to, but she challenged me to find even more time. Think of the time we spend gathering information from television and other sources. Is that information, even the news, more important than what the Lord has commanded us to glean from the scriptures? Can I turn off a program that perhaps I have seen already? Can I trade books for a week? Can I get to bed early enough tonight that I can get up a half hour earlier tomorrow to read few verses? I can find time to do those things I really want to do. I took her challenge and have found when I have been obedient to that commandment, my life has been blessed.

President Marion G. Romney stated that we can know God’s decrees, the prophecies for our times, and in study, find those things which can be signs and directors for us just as the Liahona was for the people who traveled with Father Lehi.

According to President Hinckley’s address in the Ensign he says, “The Book of Mormon narrative chronicles nations long since gone. But in it’s descriptions of today’s society, it is as current as the morning newspaper and much more definitive, inspired, and inspiring concerning the solutions of those problems. I know of no other writing which sets forth with such clarity the tragic consequences to societies that follow courses contrary to the commandments of God. Its pages trace the stories of two distinct civilizations that flourished on the Western Hemisphere. Each began as a small nation, it’s people walking in the fear of the Lord. But with prosperity came growing evils. The people succumbed to the wiles of ambitious and scheming leaders who oppressed them with burdensome taxes, who lulled them with hollow promises, who countenanced them and even encouraged loose and lascivious living. These evil schemers led the people into terrible wars that resulted in the death of millions and the final and total destruction of two great civilizations in two different eras. No other written testament so clearly illustrates the fact that when men and nations walk in the fear of God and obedience to His commandments, they prosper and grow, but when they disregard Him and His word, there comes a decay that, unless arrested by righteousness, leads to impotence and death. The Book of Mormon is an affirmation of the Old Testament proverb: Righteousness exalteth a nation: but sin is a reproach to any people.”

In seminary the youth are taught the history of these two nations and the tragic cycles that inflict them. One cycle is named for decline. Read the stages and see if you can identify where we as a nation are.

The Lord Leads
The Lord gives covenants to His people.
Laws are established.
The majority of people reject these laws and choose to follow evil.
Prophets and missionaries are sent to the people to teach and direct them.
Some accept. Those who accept begin the cycle again to this point, meaning they follow where the Lord leads, accept covenants, follow laws and the Prophets.
Some reject the prophets and missionaries, but tolerate the Gospel.
The Lord’s judgment begin.
The Lord withdraws His Spirit from among the people.
The people ripen to iniquity and begin to cast out the righteous from among them.
Civil wars and destruction of the wicked begin, wars, violent physical destruction happens among the people.

The second cycle has to do with pride and freedom. Again, look for the cycle points and see if you can find where we are as a nation and also on a personal level.

Bondage
Faith
Courage
Freedom
Abundance
Selfishness
Apathy
Bondage

In the beginning of this entry I related certain situations and conversations. Those points were primarily based upon the cycle of pride and freedom.

Our nations history is one based on this cycle. We were once in bondage from other countries, kings, and rulers. Our forefathers had faith in the Lord. They had courage to gain their freedom.

We live in this freedom and we, especially when compared with other nations, have abundance. We have become selfish. We have become apathetic. We have so many choices and opportunities we just don’t care. If I don’t see a movie this week I can always see it next week, or wait for it to come out on DVD. We don’t care to vote anymore, we don’t have real wants or needs that are lacking, so we really don’t care about too much. If we look around our community we can see many people – even within the Gospel – who are already in bondage of some form.

The solution to all these latter day plagues can be found in within the pages of the Book of Mormon.

President Hinckley is asking us to put down the NYTimes Best seller and pick up the Book of Mormon. To turn off the t.v. this week and read as a family what is really important. To study this book and find out what it is we really need. He suggests one and a half chapters a day until the close of December and we could indeed complete our assignment. He also promises us that if we willing to follow this admonition that we will be blessed with “an added measure of the Spirit of the Lord, a strengthened resolution to walk in obedience to His commandments, and a stronger testimony of the living reality of the Son of God."

Who among us doesn't need those blessings? The promises that President Hinckley made concerning his challenge to read the Book of Mormon this year, will be a blessing for all who follow the his direction.

We have been instructed for many years by the brethren to do daily scripture study. It is significant that the Prophet of The Lord would instruct us in such a pointed way to read the Book of Mormon and to do it before the end of the year.

The Prophet of the Lord does not make busy work for the members of the church. So we must assume he fully believes the membership needs the information and the spiritual blessing that come from reading the Book of Mormon and from obedience to the Prophet of the Lord.

I have a testimony of the Gospel and of the Divinity of Jesus Christ. I have a testimony of the Atonement, and the great blessing it is to me personally. I know President Hinckley is a Prophet of God and he is receiving revelation. I know if we will obey the commandments we will increase in faith and we will find happiness and joy in this life as well as the one yet to come.

Do you have any plans or schedules to help you accomplish this great assignment? Any ideas or thoughts? Do you have a special system or motivation to share with family or individuals? Do you have a story to share about how this reading assignment has or will bless you or your family? Please share with all who will read! Thanks!

Product Endorcement

Have you ever wanted to try a product only to leave it on the shelf refusing to be duped into the hype and dissatisfied with the desired results? S'mee too. But a year ago my #2's wife came over with a more than usually pretty WHITE smile. Grrr! S'mee thinks! She is already youthful and gorgeous, and had white teeth enough! Then I witness #3 with a packet from her job. Seems the dentist she works for has given her a home tooth whitening kit to try. He wants her to use it and give it a rating for ease of home use. Her teeth are also very white to begin with, age has not taken it's toll as yet. No fair!

So S'mee decides to take things into her own hands and scope out what's on the market. One a scale of 1 - 10, 10 being best, I will rate my findings and home research! 10 to me would be the results of, say, BrightSmile or ZOOM! via a dental lab or dental office. But since S'mee is poor and or relatively cheap, I cannot afford cosmetic dentistry. So a 10 rating will probably not happen over the counter.

Last year when I first caught a glimpse of the youthful whiter smile of my Daughter in law, I went in search of the product she used. Simple White (I think by Colgate, it's been a while)- a small tiny little bottle with a paint brush applicator. The idea is for you to brush your teeth, floss, and then brush the gel onto your teeth prior to bed time. The gel will be absorbed overnight and after 2 weeks you have my daughter in law's bright pretty smile. The simple part was correct, how hard can it be to brush gel onto your teeth? The problem? FOAM! Killer FOAM! The FOAM that make rabid dogs in the last stages of death foam look like a baby's spit bubble. Foam from the lowest level in hell from which no mortal can escape! I am talking FOAM! So you paint your teeth and try not to drown in your own saliva all night long. YIKES! There is also a funky taste. Not disgusting, just really funky. Could they not add some peppermint to this stuff? After three nights I decided I was old and deserved the yucky yellow teeth I had.
Simple White = 2

Six months later I saw a local news show science experiment on which products were most effective. Their #1 choice was Crest White Strips ($30.00 or so with a coupon for two packs at Costco). I decided once again that I would delve into the mysterious world of bleaching kits. The news show didn't mention anything about FOAM so I thought I was safe.

The package contains gel coated pliable plastic strips which you peel off of another plastic strip and place on the front of your teeth, folding any left over gel strip under or over the teeth to the inside surfaces. Wait 30 minutes and remove. Rinse well and wait a while. They suggest two applications a day with a good rest period in between, every day for a week. The foil pack is easy to open and the gel strip is easily removed and applied to your teeth; and it sticks well enough while working.

The problems: #1 The manufactures somehow feel that the back and side teeth in your mouth need not be white as the front teeth, so the strips are made so that the top strips cover about 8 teeth, and the bottom strips cover about 6. This was a problem for S'mee who wanted all teeth that show (read: I have a BIG MOUTH) to be equally white. The bottom strip is deceptively small in that it appears to be as long as the top strip until you remove it from the other plastic strip. It's a lot smaller and leaves about one third on the packaging. S'mee outsmarted the manufactures and cut the edges off the remaining gel strip and over lapped them on her lower teeth. Messy but more effective.

Problem #2 The FOAM! Oh. My. HECK! What is it with the FOAM in these things? Geeze Louise this stuff is torture, I mean the Geneva Convention has rules about this sort of thing!

O.k. So I endure this treatment in hopes of whiteness. I have found the best solution is to not move any part of your mouth at all. No tongue movement. No lip pursing. No crunching of teeth. No swallowing. This is difficult because your nature, instinct and reflexes demand that if you are drowning to get out of the water or to at least swallow in an attempt to drink the pool dry and save yourself. This will only add to the forming of more FOAM. RESIST at all cost! After the 30 minutes race to the nearest sink and allow the 1/2 gallon of saliva to spew forth, slide the gooey icky strips from your teeth and rinse away! Relief at last!

The foam and the funky taste are the same as with the painted gel; it only lasts 30 minutes instead of the entire night. It was easier and faster to apply than the paint gel. No one noticed the whiteness except myself and then I wasn't really sure if it was real or imagined in hopes of not enduring the torture for nothing.

Crest WhiteStrips = 5

Baking Soda and Peroxide are #1's toothpaste of choice since high school and man!, does that kid have white teeth! Good ol' Arm and Hammer on a brush wet with peroxide and scrub the dickens out of your teeth everyday of your life. No foam, just GAG reflexing taste for S'mee. Next!

Baking Soda and Peroxide = 2 for taste and user friendliness, 10 for effectiveness

Recently I was in Target and noticed Rembrandt 2 Hour White. At $19.00 per pack I was hesitant for more than 3 weeks to step up to the plate and finally give in and buy a box. With my #4's wedding coming fast and furious this next Saturday I thought, "what the heck?" and this morning the science began again.

The package, to my surprise, contains three syringes, and two "comfy trays" (small mouth guards); along with instructions. The mouth guards can be heated in hot (as coffee or tea) water for 5 seconds and then placed in your mouth, pressing into your teeth for a good impression, with your tongue and fingers. Allow it to cool while still on your teeth for about 30 seconds and remove, cut off the tag like handles (or not) and you are ready to bleach. The resealable syringes contain "7-10" applications each. This means that if you are careful you can brighten your teeth, top and bottom 5 times with one syringe! This makes that $19.99 price seem very little now - 30 applications! Wooo-whoo!

Taking the syringe, place a thin stripe of gel along the proper place in the "comfy tray" and place in your mouth. EASY! Less GOO and less MESS. Nothing to throw away. Wait 20 minutes, rinse; lather; repeat. No wait, that's shampoo. Just rinse and wait at least 10 minutes before applying again. Now I must say there is foam with this product as well. Lots of it; but it seems like less because most of it is contained in the tray and you don't get that "going down for the third time in the lake" feeling. That, and the manufactures of this bleach decided to add some peppermint to the funky gel so it's less nasty than the afore mentioned products.

I wasn't able to continue with the applications (busy day), so I just had the one 20 minute run through. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WE HAVE A WINNER! Almost immediately people around me asked if I had bleached my teeth. They actually LOOKED whiter and unsolicited remarks were had. Yippi! I am anxious to see what happens after the whole 2 hour routine!

Rembrandt 2 Hour White = 9 1/2

have you ever had that dream where you are n*ked?

Last Wednesday I had a really nice opportunity to over expose myself to a group of women I blog with over at Conversation. This was both a great and dreadful day. Great because I got to see these women who freak me out with their intelligence and grace, and dreadful because they would see firsthand that I am a genuine goofball who cannot shut up.

I have often explained that folks either really like me or hate me. This is, in part, due to the fact (scientific studies involved!) that I am in a 2 percentile of folks who have clinical split personalities. Not that I am going to run amok foaming at the mouth and then sit down quietly and write the Great American Novel. More along the lines that I am indeed, both right and left brained, neither dominate. I am an exact 50-50. Sanguine Melancholic. Conservative Liberal. Believer of following the book and yet believing that the book must be thrown out. Creative and Logical. Free Spirited and completely manic about organization. Colouring inside the lines and knowing that there should be no lines at all. Loving educated people and wanting to know so much, yet such a dither-head with no formal education at all. Believing parenting to be the most important job on the planet and having five children who most think were raised by wolves. Entranced by glittery pretty things and hating the diamond industry so much I only wear Cubic Zirconium.

This is why, when my #1 read my blog his first remark was, "I don't know how to say this mom- without insulting you totally- but, you sound a lot smarter on the blog than in real life." I write, tragically, better than I speak - especially in small cozy groups at a table for the first time. Unfortunately, most of the blog writing is also goofy and without a point. I am confidently nervous. Shyly verbose.

So on my blind date with four other women I managed to monopolize the Conversation and flap my arms well into the night only to drive home while smacking my head against the dashboard in embarrassment.

These women intimidate the wazoo out of me. I have a short term memory situation, which kept me from keeping stories straight and because of that (making an excuse here) presumed these ladies were closer to my age than they were. (HAHAHAHA!)

Sister #1. blew me away with her sweet shy personality; but mostly her accomplishments so far. She is like the Doogie Howser of the linguistics world. Traveling to Europe both on her mission and during her education she has incredible experience to back up her vast knowledge. She is humble and amazing all at the same time. I can't wait for her to go out there and conquer her world. If we could only get her to write more often about her life! Time will come and eventually school will be over for her- and watch out, the things she will have to share! P.S. I wish I had more time with her to just ask her about her heritage and the places she has been and how she feels they are similar, different, and how the experiences have complemented her growth. Amazing.

Sister #2. again set me back with her youth. Knowing she had all this really awesome knowledge and was also the mom of a couple of guys encouraged me to make her much older. She has a fascinating blog that chronicles her world travels and adventures. The thing that caught me with #2 is her confidence and again her ability to make one feel comfortable among the stars. She has this way of making a statement that assumes everyone at the table understands her and isn't impressed, "hey we have all done this right?" kind of statements. Yeah, right. NO. Nope. Not at all. Look up 'self motivator' in the dictionary and you can see her picture. This woman has no fear and it shows. She has such a range it's scary. I hope this one writes a book someday, it would be a great read.

Sister #3. has had such an interesting life that she impressed me with her attitude of succeeding when it seems impossible. She is, in the face of trials, a beautiful ship headed for a peaceful cove. Not that there won't be a rock or two along the way to steer clear of, but in the steering comes more knowledge of how things work out for good, and in the end, isn't that what it's all about? She also has a terrific humour, which I always find attractive in a friend. She will have an exciting life to share with all who know her. I have much to learn from her.

Sister #4. A mom. A busy mom. She made time to visit with us when in reality she was in the middle of her family vacation! She has a varied list of accomplishments and seemed to be able to converse with each sister at the table -and had some form knowledge in each diverse subject. Knowledge like hers does not come along often, especially packaged so creatively. Her art and computer skills preceded her, so I was expecting someone similar to who showed up, but her ability to specifically relate to everyone at the table was unexpected. Talk about writing a book! This poet in mother's clothing has something to share with all.

Sister #5 I have known for quite some time, but always blows me away with her ability to shine. I have seen her hard work pay off for years. She is always on the move towards learning and doing more. Her accomplishments read like the resume of 10 women, and she does many of those things at the same time. Crazy. A sense of humour and a creative mind and someone who can think on her feet. I wish I were more like her. She will die in motion, I just know it. She never sleeps, and if she does nod off it is only to allow the muse in her dream to add to her qualities and aspirations.

Sister #6 would be S'mee. Uneducated and mouthy, but with an observer's eye and a heart that continually hopes for the good things in the world. Good things like these five sisters. I am blessed to have met them and gleaned some positive things from each of them. Thanks ladies, you made my trip a good one.

I loooove L.A.!

When you begin the day with a "chocolate cream frappachino, medium please, and ummm, a rice crispy treat, thank you", life is good. I met up with Chronicler (sorry no link here, 'puter problems - see the side bar - Food Chronicles) and we set out for a day in LA. Upon arrival at the prearranged meeting place I was early. Knowing Chronicler enjoys a good strawberry whozit from Starbucks, I called her on the cell and asked if she would like to start the day and make it a "sugar high Thursday"? I found the perfect spot, ran in and met with a terrific English gentleman behind the counter. He could tell immediately that I was a Starbucks virgin and helped me through the process. I felt like a dork anyway and just ordered the same as Chronicler.

She met me half way down the block, having parked her baby (a cute little 'cooper') in a safe spot waaaaaay far away in a distant galaxy where she would be safe from the day's dings. We set out and drove in to LA to the garment district where I was promised I could find a "cheap yet reliable tailor" to alter the wedding dress I purchased for my son's upcoming nuptial celebration. I wrote earlier about buying the dress (on sale for $50). After finding a parking spot, adding 50 cents to a meter, Chronicler and S'mee-self waited with a group of non English speaking workers for an elevator up to the 2nd floor of a very "funky" building. After nodding and smiling a while we got off on our floor and walked in to find two very kind tailors willing to help me out.

How much to alter the dress? "Poot on first, then we see how mooch." After dressing, the two gentlemen are all over me with pins and tape measures and I look as though I am an albatross awaiting a dry landing with my arms hanging there (flapping?). After the last pin was set one of the men said, "Ooohkay, now you take off and be 3 hours back, please." "How much for the alteration?" I asked. His reply, "Three hours back please. Mooch work. Take long time." So once again the query, "How. Much. Money?" "Three hours back please, mooch work, seventy doolars, seventy uh huh, three hours you come back please."

I paid $50.00 for the dress. I don't care how mooch work, I can't pay $70 to get it right. "Well, thank you, but I cannot afford $70 for the alteration. Thank you." And I begin to take the jacket off. "Hoold it please!" and at that he was on his knees taking all the pins out o the hem.

We walked down the stairs, not wanting to wait for the very slow elevator. (Creepy factor HIGH) Chronicler suggested we head over to the Farmer's Market/The Grove for lunch at her favorite Italian restaurant (hey you took home the wrong bag and you have my meatball sub leftovers!). We walked through Barnes and Noble and did some critiques of Cook books, and debated chefs versus cooks. (Flo Braker = cook Giada DeLorentes = food network eye candy) As we headed back to the freeway we stopped by a couple of Cake Bakeries; each sitting cheek to jowl of the other (in fact, the one was in the middle of the other - complicated, but true). Chronicler and I parked the car, ran across traffic and went in to see what all the fuss was about. Here in LA these are the two places to go for wedding or real party cakes. Who really had the best? She had to know! So we went in each store, tasted samples and perused the displays of their talented bakers/decorators. The cakes were indeed delicious and some were amazingly complicated in design and technique, although I didn't see too much that I hadn't see already in books.

I think Chronicler will probably write up the stores and bakeries, so I will let the Cook do her job well. On the way home we talked and chatted and, as what is becoming a habit, ended up at the Cheesecake Factory to grab tonight's dessert. YUM!

What about the dress? Well, Chronicler and I decided that if she pinned and scrunched, that perhaps I could do a fair Dr. Frankenstein and end up altering it myself. So next week it's back down to her house for a scary few hours of sewing; and hopefully the dress will be fine. Hopefully.

Albert the gang member just called. It's the "mother board" she died. WAH! More updates as soon as I get them.

one lesson, 38 years ago made a difference

I was baptized when I was about 8 1/2. Many folks hear this and think that makes me a "dyed in the wool" LDS person. I still think of myself as extremely blessed to have been introduced to the Gospel, to have had a family that accepted it and yes, be baptized while still only 8 years old. I can personally see how this young age baptism blessed my life.

We were converts, and as such -enthusiastic. After a year or so, I had Brother Hitzka as my Sunday School Teacher. He was a regular guy type of guy as I remember, nothing much to write home about. However, one Sunday something prompted him to be a tad more dramatic in his lesson presentation. We were all seated and he asked us to count off, one, two, one, two, one, two. I was a two.

"All of you 'two's please stand up. Go over to the door. Wave to everyone and say good bye." So we all complied. I remember standing there thinking I was going to be given a special assignment, would go off to the kitchen for a glass of water or perhaps out to the grass for something else, who knew? I was excited to be one of the "chosen"! "O.k.!" he said, "You can leave now, bye!" We just stood there not knowing where to go. "Um, BYE now! Go!" and with a swoosh of his hand we understood we were to GO, but where was still a mystery. Irritated, Brother Hitzka stood up, opened the door and began to physically lead each of us 'two's out the door. As he started to close the door, one boy asked, "Where do you want us to go?" "I don't care. I just know you will leave eventually so I thought why wait? Just go now and get on with your lives!" We all stared at Brother Hitzka.

For me, I had some abandonment issues already, so to have my Sunday School Teacher tell me to go began to tear at something familiar inside of me. I was immediately scared to death that I would never be back. I would never go to his Sunday School class again and maybe never see him again either. I felt a loss of love, his love, a love that I didn't think about until that moment in time; but something told me Brother Hitzka did love me. But did he decide not to now? I didn't quite know what to do with this information. The moment seemed very long, but eventually Brother Hitzka asked us all to come back into class.

"I read a scary fact this morning. By the time you kids grow up to be 21, half of you will have left the church. " Oh, now I get it, he's making a point. But inside I didn't feel much better. In fact it made me physically sick and I wanted to throw up. Brother Hitzka explained how when grown ups grow up they aren't much smarter than we were right then. He wanted us to be smart. He wanted us to know that things get hard in life and that sometimes, adults see the only solution to problems is to leave the church and their activity in it. He stressed that the one thing that was smart would be to hang onto our activity NO MATTER WHAT WE FACED AS AN ADULT! I don't remember too much from the lesson than that and the feelings I still have when I remember it all.

Brother Hitzka was right. In my class were 12 kids. By the time we were 21 exactly half of us had left the church for various reasons. "C" left because his family was a complete mess and he just couldn't figure out how to please them, himself, much less God. "G" left due to an early and sad temple marriage that fell apart. "K" left because her parents "shoved the church down [her] throat." Truth be told her parents were nuts, but it was an excuse for her to experiment with the late 70's and not feel guilty. "C" left because she had been abused by her father and when the church became involved the justice was not justice but a "good talking too, but not much else." Bitter. "S" left out of boredom. "E" left out of, again, familial shame brought on by a parent's public sin.

Did the other 6 of us have great lives? No. One of us married a man with children, one of whom decided to be gay. Another lost a spouse. Others had trials with word of wisdom issues, sex, and financial ruin. The truth is EVERYONE had an excuse to leave. EVERYONE had a reason to stay. For me, I also had trials. LOTS of trials. (Haven't we all?) I can honestly say that I could hear Brother Hitzka telling me to leave during each one. The point is this: After that one lesson I was so sick at the thought of leaving my Heavenly Father (someone it took me a lot of work to find) that I couldn't leave. The thinking of inactivity made my stomach ache - hard. I promised myself one thing. "If I ever felt like just staying home, or being mad and wanted to quit, that I would not allow myself to do that. I would work it out however I could, but I would ALWAYS go to church. EVERY Sunday. NO EXCEPTIONS."

That one promise, made by a 9 year old to her future self, has been the saving grace that helped me through thoughts of "This is enough! No more!". Through the desires to go out on the boat, take the day trip, just skip it this once. I realized even as a child that activity is more than sitting through "Dry Council Sunday" and the travelogue "testimonies", the hypocrites that demand this or that and do otherwise themselves. It's more important for me to sit through all the "junk" because that is where I am supposed to be. I have never regretted going to church, even when the lessons have been ridiculous and the drama of the women is worse than anything you see on t.v. Being there is important.

I still feel that love I felt from Brother Hitzka. I feel it through other people now. I know that feeling is directed from Heavenly Father. As a grown up I still have that scary feeling of abandonment. When I think that I would be the one doing the abandoning, it makes me sick. This time I choose to leave. This time I am the one who says, "I don't need you, you are not worth it! I am finding something better, something easier than you." The only difference is that I am saying it to my Heavenly Father. That thought and those feelings are what keep me in the bench, in the dull lesson, in the room when I want otherwise. I want the love and the feeling of going home to my Father someday more. I stay active.

Thanks Brother Hitzka.

wild nights in vegas and a stomach tattoo now on your arm

Dear Readers:
o.k. here's the deal, Thor researched it all out and discovered: WE KNOW NOTHING ABOUT COMPUTERS! So with that information we search the world over and found ONE guy where we live (or at least in the city next to ours) that actually would work on it. We put her in the back of the car and headed out. (drive drive drive) We pull up and go to the door of the computer fixer guy store and it's LOCKED. Shut up like a clam. Hmm. Didn't we just call this guy like 20 minutes ago? (humdeedoo, now what?)

"Hey, hey hey! stop! C'mon in!" says computer fixer guy as we head back to the car. So Thor grabs our "baby" and walks through the door. After about 40 minutes Thor returns to me; with a fascinating story.

Computer fixer guy is an "ex gang member." yahoo! Just who everyone wants to leave their computer with. This very tattooed fellow has retold "his story" to a very patient Thor. About how he grew up down in LA and yada yada yada gang troubles and a mean momma moterscooter who moved him out and up to better things. (why is our house devalued???)

His latest adventure has been the falling asleep at the wheel after a wild night in Vegas with the boys and his girl friend. The boss sees him show up for work with said girlfriend asleep in the back seat of the car and insists that he drive her home so she can get a decent night sleep. "But that's down in the OC, I says, but the man tells me, you get that girl some good sleep and sos I drive down and take her home. I gets back in the car and drive back to work, but man, I fell asleep and crash my car. Now I mess my whole body up so much they have to sew my arm to my stomach. HAH! Dig this man, now my tat is on my arm!" (That would be the tattoo that was originally on his stomach.)

So as soon as computer fixer guy gets off the meds, he and his boss will take a look at the computer and tell us we own them too much money fix her and we'll go buy a new one. That's my theory at least! So for now, this is S'mee. Homeless computer girl, sad, and begging to borrow other folks computers. Hope to see y'all soon. Until then, don't drive your girl home to the OC when you too are too tired to drive. If you ignore this advice, you may also have part of your tattoo remain on your arm.

UPDATE

Dear Readers,

S'mee's computer has bitten the proverbial dust. What started out as a "burned out energy source" has now taken it's toll upon the rest of the "works" and until it is repaired, the posts will be slow in coming. As it is I am writing via a borrowed and somewhat uncooperative laptop. grrrrr. : [

Until then, try to stay cool in this heat wave, and enjoy the summer. -S'mee

childhood

Over at Conversation they are having a thread on the book, "The Secret Life Of Bees". It struck me that some folks actually had such good childhoods they could not/cannot comprehend the disastrous situations that may occur in others. It is hard for them to conceive of children being traumatized to the points they are by people who "love" them. Or that life in general hand some folks a lot more odd/dangerous/unrealistic events than "normal" kids. I think this is a good thing in a way. Seeing the world as a place where "too much" is over the top and could never have happened.

For me, it was often the opposite. The "too much" was my reality and I could not comprehend, even into my adulthood, that things could be "as good" as they were sometimes portrayed. Life was a never ending drama filled with running from and into adult troubles, terror, and living like people in the newspapers and t.v. As an adult I find it amusing that I can relate to almost any situation via a personal childhood experience!

I had a mother that "loved" me. For me, from my viewpoint, which may or may not be correct, I felt that love was different than the love my siblings shared with dear ol' mom. I can hear you saying, "Well, DUH! Every kid feels like the picked on one." It's Tommy Smothers all over again, "Ma always did love you best." But I really felt the difference.

There are too many reference points I could illustrate, but after I had grown up and looked it all over, I could see that each of my siblings felt the same real lack of love, just in different areas of their own. We have a "different" kind of mom. Love is there, but it isn't the love we feel for our own children and for our spouses; and that has made things very clear for us as adults. It's the kind of love that has to be there out of some sort of responsibility or to keep "losing face" at bay. The kind of love that is there to promote one's self sacrificing when really, the sacrificing wasn't there- or could have been diminished by being a "normal" definition of "mom". She worked hard, no one doubted that, but the whole mom gig wasn't her cup of tea; and we all felt it and carried the burden we gave her with us - even to this day. (mom=sacrifice kid=burden, pick a category and label yourself. we were an ungrateful, greedy, collective burden to mom's selfless and never-ending sacrifice.)

The following is an illustration at how I began to grow out of childhood thinking and into what was reality or the "norm".
When I was 2 months pregnant with #3 my appendix burst. If you have ever had this experience you know the kind of pain and how it progresses. It began for me as a "really bad intestinal flu" and progressed to the stage where I literally could not un-coil myself from a fetal position. I was sane enough, but MAN! it was pretty intense.

At the point of not being able to function enough to care for the two older, yet toddler-esque children I did not panic, but went through my options for assistance. #1 Thor. He was at work, far from home and would be home later that night tired, but could take over if I was not better. So I thought, "better try for someone else who can just take the kids for a few hours." This led me to review friends first. This was prior to cell phones and after finding no one home I resorted to the sisters in law who lived in my community. 2 of them were also not home, but the third was. Let me tell you it was very difficult for me to call this woman and ask for a favor, but by this time I was concerned for my children and needed help whether or not it was via this sister in law. It wasn't that she and I didn't get along, it was just this gal doesn't open the door to her own mother who may have traveled a while to see her. (but that's a different dysfunctional family!) I made the call and, to her credit, she came over.

One look at my ability to mask pain, she pronounced her diagnosis: not the flu, but losing the baby! I knew, deep inside, that I was not losing the baby, but forgetting all the Marcus Welby MD episodes I had seen, I dis-associated the "lower right side+intense pain" equaling appendicitis and clung to "flu" instead. That, and there is no possible way one can be pregnant and have appendicitis, right? So I just wanted her to take the kids until Thor got home. She would not have it and we headed to the hospital that was one hour away.

I called my mom. I told her my sis-in-law thought I was losing the baby and was headed to the hospital. She replied with questions and a follow up of "let me know how it goes." Which in reality did not shock me, nor hurt my feelings. I did not expect any other reaction and the phone call was just to inform her of the daily happenings.

After waking up from surgery I was faced with strong wrath from my father-in-law. His anger and absolute rage sprang from not being called, from not being allowed to care for me. I almost couldn't wrap my mind around why he was so angry at not being called. My end of it was reason. "If I called my own mother and she didn't seem interested, why the heck would you?" Even I knew that a mom (supposedly) was the one person you could count on, that one person who loved you above all others. And if she didn't care, no one else would or should! I couldn't understand that my father-in-law was scared to death for my safety, my child's safety, and had been insulted by not being allowed to help, pray, or even just take care of the grandkids. I couldn't understand how he could worry that much about me. I could get that he actually loved me, it was weird. Really weird. All that fuss because he loved me.

Childhood ideas taught me that I didn't matter. Grown up events began to change things, although there are still bugs in the system that was wired so long ago.

Now, the first call for help is to those I can trust to help me. I go where I can count on love. Dear mother is frustrated when she sees that I actually get along with other folks, it hurts her feelings and I feel guilty over it. But eventually one learns about real love. About real sacrifice. About real burden.

And eventually one learns that not everyone had the funkiness that I had. Some had the ideal. Some had good. And some grew up a lot faster than even I did.

It's a cruel, cruel summer....

Yeeeowwwch! Did you feel that growing pain? (That's gonna leave a mark.)

After working her first job, #5 has learned a few things. Taxes aren't fun. "Training" and work is fun, but being paid less for the same work is not. "Bosses" fudge, stretch the truth, or otherwise flat out lie to you so that they appear to be your advocate when in reality they are just trying to get the best deal for the(ir) business, too bad you got the not so truthful end of the deal. There are no 40 hour a week - even during the summer- minimum wage jobs in Utah. There are no such things as promises from management. Good luck getting 20, those ahead of you will be grabbing all the hours they can because they have already learned these truths. Paying for a uniform can reduce one's earnings to a check that is embarrassing to cash: one penny. After you work next week for the same "training" pay scale, "the rest of your uniform monies will be taken out", thus a huge possibility of you receiving another embarrassing check. (There is a reason everyone has worked for this company and now does not.)

She has also learned that girls who have parents who pay their bills have no idea how much their bills are, they "just send the check to Dad and he takes care of it... your share is on the table..." and then they forget all about it. Thus the inquiries on said bills before signing on is about $80.00 more than anticipated. Living in the basement, your room gets neither heat nor cooling due to the layout of the venting situation. So when it gets warm enough up stairs they shut it off before you get it and the same is true for cooling. Whether or not you want cable or will use it, you will be charged for it; even when we asked you if you did or did not need cable and told you it was o.k. that you didn't and would be excluded from the agreement.

The really good friends who share the room above you aren't really that good of friends and now you know why they say "good roomies are hard to find". You have become the sounding board.

Life as a grown up is different than anticipated. (But still fun.)

(Let's hope that second job working for the MTC is a tad better. Or at least a more true picture of what the management painted prior to hiring.)

With our own mouth, we are digging our pit.

In our little end of the flock we are experiencing quite a surge of angst against those who are in authority, meaning pretty much if you are in a leadership position currently you are questioned, challenged, unappreciated, and mostly disrespected for the way in which you choose to fulfill you calling. This is from the Bishop on down to specific teachers and auxiliary leaders. (In all actuality, if you are in our ward -you are fair game.)I was mostly unaware of this situation, thinking it was pretty much focused at me as a Primary President, I was wrong.

As a Primary President we had an interesting situation at best. When I was called, the primary then was barely functioning. I was serving in the Stake as an interpreter serving in another ward, so I was unfamiliar with the goings on in our ward and as I took over I was immediately congratulated, praised, and warned that the former President had led the Primary into literal destruction. I was smart enough to know that people talk and most of the time they are just venting. The former President, if truth be told, had an overwhelming job, with little or no support and did what she could with what she had. The teachers also had been over worked and under thanked and were on their last legs.

I took over and did my best to bring the Primary back to semi-normalcy, although even after 2+ years, "my" Primary wasn't running on all cylinders either. I left without a firm Scouting Program, a struggling Faith in God Program for girls, and only one annual Activity Day. But I could look back on my time and I felt I had accomplished a lot. Activity rose, we had a severe situation with reverence that had all but disappeared and with "my" Primary literally being close to 1/2 half Special Needs, we had things under control and the kids were feeling safe and loved. Not perfect, but definite progress.

That being said, I was approached each week I served. Sometimes 2 or 3 times a Sunday if the "weather" was bad. Someone had something negative or challenging to say about the ill functioning Primary. There were disappointments for someone and I got an earful of it every week. After a while it adds up and there are times when you wonder if any one at all notices the things you are doing correct. I spent many days crying, I prayed like never before and I struggled literally from day to day until I was released. Thor saw it as my 40+ hour a week job. It was one of the hardest tenures I have ever spent in a calling. Mainly due to lack of understanding that I was trying and working, but there are some things you must allow others to accomplish and if they fail, it fails. The Lord does not wish us to micro-manage and rule with an iron fist. It is a learning process for everyone.

This brought me into my new calling. After not attending Relief Society for several years (somewhere like 20 something!) I was called to be the Education/1st Counselor. I, after one month still don't have all the scheduling and specifics of the calling clear in my head, but again, I am trying. And again I am hearing the congratulations and warnings and complaints of those who were ahead of me in line and those with whom I work currently. It amazes me. I have been asked to be the new "saviour" and bring my co-workers to repentance and retribution!

As I have left the Primary and entered into the "adult world", I have noticed a few things within our ward. We have a terrific amount of anger towards one another and great skills at being "snarky" towards each other. If there is an open shot - we take it. If someone makes the tiniest of mistakes we make sure to point them out loud and clear. And over and again. If the Bishop or other leaders make a decision we disagree with, it doesn't matter if they have the keys of discernment or information we may not, we cause a stink about it; and then do what we think should be done on our own, disregarding the instructed course of action by the Bishop and/or leader. We split the players and go to war with words and deeds and tally up who was more "right" on the surface. When we are called and asked to discuss the quarrel or ill feelings, we feel picked on and after the talking and "resolve", we decide it is better to just go home and stay there for a few years until things change. In the meantime we can occupy our time with phone calls to gather others to our side and cause even greater dissent against the ill chosen few who are in charge.

Are we all 10 year olds? We cannot see past our own idea and think that perhaps the person in authority is or is not making a poor judgment, but it is not our place to become involved and that if their plan is or is not wrong, the Lord will indeed take care of it. We want in on every ward decision, all the planning, all the judgments, all the gossip. When it comes to following the council we are given, that is when we draw the line. We pick and choose whom we will and will not serve and sustain. We raise our hands to sustain, then at our first displeasure we face the accused and announce our withdrawal and support. We are casting stones and pebbles at every opportunity, and our aim is remarkable considering the huge beam in our eyes. We blame, pick fights, grab offence and horde ill, and we will not forgive; even when an apology has been humble and sincerely offered.

We want a fight. We want an excuse. We want to know everything that is private and none of our business. We want to pat ourselves on the back, we want the calling another has because we think we deserve it and would do a better job. We forget that everyone, including ourselves, is still learning. We forget the Lord makes calls, not man, nor person. We forget that leaders may not be perfect but they are worthy and have been set apart. Mainly and foremost, we forget that we made sacred covenants that restrict and forbid us to be pointing fingers and criticizing, gossiping and speaking ill of one another. We forget that repentance is extremely difficult and that some repairs are tremendous. We forget that we are all related via the Gospel of Christ.

Forget that old staement made by moms the world over, "Just wait until your father gets home..." If we wait until we get home to our Father, it will be too late. We are waisting time we do not have worrying about others instead of perfecting ourselves. We will be Home too soon and by then it will be too late to forgive and repair. The damage will have been done, and not to those horrid people who mess up the ward, but to ourselves.

Calling the Bridal Consultant in You...

A few years back I worked with a gal who was a Bridal Consultant. We did theme weddings, everything from cowpoke ceremonies to full blown Cinderella, complete with gazebos, and life sized pumpkin coach, horses, etc. We transformed walls, ceilings, and floors. We did everything from the design to the cake to the music, flowers, food, photos and limo. If we didn't have in stock what you wanted it was fabricated before the event date. Colour options were limitless and, if you could think of it, we would provide it.

That was then and this is now. I get inquiries all the time. What can I do for this or that, what would you suggest for blah blah blah... Today someone very important to me asked what I would do for her daughter's reception. She has a few ideas and I gave her some of mine. Now I pose it to you out there in the cosmos:

What have you done or seen or hope to see in a reception? What would you do to "entertain" the reception crowd? How would you "decorate"? Does it matter if it is in a cultural hall or should you rent a ballroom at a hotel, a barn, or historical sight? Casual or formal? Sit down or buffet? What is the new trend? What is your budget? What is the most important thing about the "party" part of the event?

I am looking for new ideas, something fresh and unusual. So what do you think? If it were up to you, what would you do?

She stepped officially through the Golden Door

Sat in Sacrament this morning and listened to a friend of mine. She bore her testimony. Last May she and 5,000 of her new neighbors were presented up, weighed and measured and sworn in as the newest of the United States of America's citizens.

In her heavy accent she articulated that she loved "da Propet Joseph Smit because Got made him to be here and he saw Got and Jesus. I love da Propet." With tear filled eyes she related her thoughts that she would not have the Gospel if "Joseph Smit did nah live in da U.S. because Got blessed this lan for dis purpose." She loves her childhood home but feels God sent her here to bless her family with the Gospel and even though "I gah da really good job and am the manerger of many peoples it doesn mean nothing because I got the Gospel. Dat's all dat madder. My family has da Gospel." She then said that she felt remorse at waiting to apply for citizenship and putting it all off for so long. It never bothered her before that she could not vote, that she could not serve on a jury, and that she had no more legal rights than she had before she came here. "Now dat I am a real ci-izen I can do dose tings and more. I can voe now an I will. When eh comes my turn to be a jury I will go an do my job. I never had da same righs in my homelan. When I tink abou tomorrow I am happy now because I am real now. Before I was jus here an doing my job. I ha da papers an was legal but not a ci-izen. Tomorrow I will be happy."

As the meeting closed the Bishop rose, went to the pulpit and said the following: "In regard to Sister S's good news, I feel remiss that I forgot to celebrate with her back in May. To rectify that I suggest that everyone stay home tomorrow. Do not go to work. Stay with your families and spend the day thinking about Independence and Freedom and what it means to be a real citizen of these United States. Have a picnic. Go to the mountains or the beach. Eat some barbecue. Perhaps someone can find a firework or two to shoot off. Hey, let's make it a celebration! Let's all think of Sister S and her new found liberties." Then in a very hushed whisper as if to himself he said, "It's good. It's fitting." and sat down.

"Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name, Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
- 1883 by Emma Lazarus, appears on the pedestal of the Statue

So here's to my friend. The newest citizen I know. Let's celebrate with her tomorrow. It's good. It's fitting.

Russian River meets the Pacific

Russian River meets the Pacific
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

This map shows the road we took that sits about 500 yards from the Russian River, absolutely spectacular scenery, relaxing and invigorating at the same time.

By the time you wind your way to the sea you are treated with even more beauty. There is something about seeing what your fourth grade teacher taught you as a reality that always gets me! (It's gorgeous!) And, as an extra bonus, if you look very carefully at this photo you can see tiny light dots right at the bottom of the "S" shape to the left of the inlet water on the sand. Those tiny dots are actually elephant seals! (see May 03, 2005 post) From this vantage point we were too far away to see them without using our binoculars. I am curious about the mix of fresh and salt water and if the seals preferences and does it matter? The seals seem to be the young born last winter and were just happy to be sunning themselves on the sand.

The Pacific coast near Jenner, CA.
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

Using the map above, you can find a small "1" in a circle above Jenner. This photo is approximately where that point on the map is. We got out of the car and the perfume of the wild flowers hung in the air. I was very surprised, thinking the salt air and breezes from the altitude would have swept all hints of the delicate flowers up the mountain side. But it was all around us, sweet and fresh. There were other places we stopped along this same coastline where you could see and smell wild dill, wild lavender, and flowers I am unfamiliar with. About this point in our trip we also saw deer on the cliffs above us! I am telling you, this is a great drive! The roar of the ocean as it crashes on the rocks and cliffs, the birds swaying and gliding and the smell of the sea, flowers, and herbs! What else would make you this delirious?

The coast near Jenner, CA.
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

Someone obviously had the same idea as I, and actually set up housekeeping! Look closely at the photo, just about center is a large boulder. Just below the protection of that boulder is a driftwood shelter! HOW COOL IS THIS? Man! Thor pointed out that there is plenty of driftwood, blackened by the year's fires, for providing building material and fuel to keep warm. Lucky dog who lives there!

I am as excited now as I was seeing it when I took the picture. I truly enjoy the coast so much! Just thinking back on the memories of growing up near the ocean, the really funky smell of a wharf, dock or harbour; the sounds that all of the ocean life offers; these things are exhilarating to me and just refresh my thinking! I have been really blessed! It is hard for me to think of people who live where there is no access to an ocean. I cannot imagine my life without these beautiful expressions of my Heavenly Father. It just flat out amazes me. Seeing the foam and the waves, the birds pecking out their food, deer (DEER!) grazing nearby, it all sends me!

If you would like more visual inspiration j.michael rowland's photography of this wonderland we toured is total eye candy!

More info on the Point Reyes National Seashore is here, and here: Point Reyes Lighthouse & Point Reyes.

The ride to the "redwoods"...

The Catholic Graveyard at Tomales CA.
Originally uploaded by S'mee.

Thor and I headed out the last day of our trip for a "quick look" at the Redwoods. Thor had visited them as a child and wanted to shared their beauty with me! Unfortunately childhood memories being what they are, Thor hadn't quite calculated the distance to the redwoods from San Francisco and we ended up on a freeway headed north. The freeway was a glorified parking lot and luck being what it is, we turned off and drove west! (My favorite direction!) Although we never made it to the redwoods, we had what turned out to be, one of the best driving day trips ever.

We turned off the 101 at the 12, driving through some of the most picturesque land. This map shows the route. Sebastopol is an artsy, wine country introducing, bed and breakfast-y kind of town. After the redirection from a road block caused by an accident we then went north through Forestville (self explanatory name), Guerneville, and on to Jenner at the coast. I felt a bit thrown back to my old hippy days (at least wannabe) as we drove through these little earthy towns with all natural food stores, hemp purveyors, rainbow pretty-much-anything-you-want, and art and craft boutiques. And lots of alternative couples feeling comfy in their own shoes to put it politely. The flip side being the white folks in dreads and India batik. Talk about mixing your cultures with fashion. But that's those darned artsy types. For me, it looked like heaven, for Thor, well that's another story.

The photo above is (terrific segue) a portion of the Catholic cemetery in Tomales. (looking at the above map, find Cotali and go straight west -and slightly lower- to the tiny little angle on the red line. That bend in the road near the water is Tomales.) A small historic town of (what the town sign said) 5. We think perhaps someone has erased the extra zero(s); but it's not for us to say. That aside, It is a quaint little town, very quiet the day we visited and we only saw about 5 actual folks walking around (so perhaps the sign was correct although the housing states there should be more.) We took the side street up the slope to the hill where the wrought iron gates waited wide open, and drove into the grounds. To the left of the drive way were the tombs. All had the raised curb and further raised cement borders; with the unused graves still grassy and full of wild flowers. Once "furnished", evidence shows a cement slab covers the crypt; and head stone or foot stone mark the resident(s). Interesting.

After leaving Tomales we drove out to Point Reyes in hopes of visiting the light house. It was closed, but after researching what we missed, I am a bit glad we got there too late. This website tells the history (very interesting!), but also that it is equivalent to climbing a 30 story staircase to get down to the light house, and then back up! Hello knees! So I am content (for now) to read all about it. You should too! Have fun!