Tuesday, September 22, 2009

The Mind of a Six-Year-Old on Sayings

This passalong struck me squarely in the funnybone.  I laughed, and even cried.  Kids are so wonderful (meaning full of wonder) and amazingly sharp. 

I'm old enough that every one of these sayings were drummed into me almost from my beginning. Some have lost their popularity. For instance, "Don't change horses in the middle of the stream"  became a slogan, probably during the election of 1940 when we were emerging from the Great Depression,  but especially in 1944, when Franklin D. Roosevelt was running for his fourth time, and we were in the middle of, war. I'm adding this explanation because some of my kids, most of my grandchildren and probably all my great grandchildren have never heard it.

I'm sure if somebody really administered this survey, these are only the most surprising and delightful answers.  They couldn't be the majority.  

I'm tempted to let my own progeny fill in the blanks. Maybe a family home evening, or a party game.  Hmmm.

These insights may surprise you. While reading, keep in mind that these are 1st graders, 6-year-olds! 

1. Don't change horses...........until they stop running. 

2. Strike while the............................bug is close. 

3. It's always darkest before..............Daylight Saving Time. 

4. Never underestimate the power of ....................termites. 

5. You can lead a horse to water but........................how? 

6. Don't bite the hand that..........................looks dirty. 

7. No news is.........................................impossible. 

8. A miss is as good as a....................................Mr. 

9. You can't teach an old dog new...........................math. 

10. If you lie down with dogs, you'll ......stink in the morning. 

11. Love all,trust................................ me. 

12. The pen is mightier than the............................pigs. 

13. An idle mind is........................the best way to relax. 

14. Where there's smoke there's.......................pollution. 

15. Happy the bride who.....................gets all the presents. 

16. A penny saved is ...................................not much. 

17. Two's company, three's ....................the Musketeers 

18. Don't put off till tomorrow what ......you put on to go to bed. 

19. Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and..... You have to blow your nose. 

20. There are none so blind as.......................Stevie Wonder. 

21. Children should be seen and not.....spanked or grounded. 

22. If at first you don't succeed................get new batteries. 

23. You get out of something only what you ................see in the picture on the box. 

24. When the blind lead the blind................get out of the way. 

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Heaven Scent, another good book

Life gets so busy there's no time left over for things like keeping my blogsite bursting with news, comments, and fun things.  Sorry.  I have done a fair amount of reading lately, and want to pass along my reactions to another good read. The title intrigued me, and I had to find out why.  I've never heard or read about how heaven smells. I'm pretty dense on some things, but as I think of it, I suspect that maybe it's not only sight and sound and touch that identifies things, or people, but most of us, even babies, also smell.  If someone also wears one favorite perfume, or scented lotion, that's clinches identity, since perfume doesn't smell the same on everybody.  As far as that goes, every body oder could be as different as a fingerprint.  So, I had to read to find out.  It was worth the search. 


            Rebecca Cornish Talley  *  *  *  *

Liza Compton remembers a great life with her younger brother and parents, before her father became a law partner in a new firm, moved the family to an expensive home in stylish Aldrich Heights for Liza’s senior year in high school.  Though her mother defended her father’s transfer of loyalty from his family to his work, everything seems to be going downhill for Liza, except for basketball.  She loves the sport her father taught her, the only thing wherein she feels in control.  She makes the last two free-throws to win the state championship for her team, but is still devastated because her father breaks his promise to be there for the game.  Again, his law practice is more important. 

            Kyle Reynolds, is Liza’s only friend outside her basketball teammates.  He is Mormon, and invites Liza to a ward luau to which she must come if he beats her in a one-on-one game of basketball.  He wins.  Things should be getting better, but they don’t, until Liza seems to have lost everything in her life that had any importance.

            Liza’s father comes across to me as merely a shadow of a man.  I fully accepted his devotion to his law practice, because I had been so startled by friendly warning one speaker gave at my own son Wayne’s graduation from ASU’s law school. He claimed legal work and research can easily become so fascinating and demanding that it consumes the whole being to the exclusion of family.  Only constant self control gets a good lawyer home to spouse, children, and life outside the office or court room.  I got the impression this speaker believed law was the only profession  quite so enchanting. 

Nevertheless, Liza’s father’s actions and comments seem too terse and repetitive to arouse any feeling for him as a person, until after tragedy changes his actions.  Even then, he claims his withdrawal from the family is evidence of his love and caring.

            Still, this book kept me awake all night, until I finished it.  I’d just like to have been shown more body language along with the father’s defenses, especially in the early part, which would make him more than just a paper father.  But maybe that’s just me.

 I highly recommend this as a good book.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

woops, I missed

What a great day

I have to hurry to get this in before the date changes.  When I posted a while ago, I realized how special today's date it. Something similar can only happen once a month for twelve months in a century.  This is the ninth time in this century.  Three more to go. Of course, I'm referring to the numerical way.
There's 01/01/01; 02/02/02; 03/03/03, etc., through 12/12/12.  Then it wouldn't happen again for another century to begin.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Another book review: Heather Horrocks

I'm feeling pampered again.  Got another manicure and pedicure at frespa, and made appointments for a massage and microdermabrasion.  I haven't worked frespa into my schedule for a while, and found I had more than two months' worth of points rolled over.  I can really splurge.  And I love it.

I'm continually amazed at how well people treat me.  Not only my friends, but even strangers smile and are sometimes very helpful.  The world is a beautiful place for me.  I feel very, very fortunate, and thankful.

As promised, here's another review of a book I've read this year. I'm a slow reader, so I've only read 32 so far in 2009.  I know people who read that many in a month, but I'm sure not one of them.  Well, I have read a book in a day, but that's about all I did.  Or I've read a book in a night and slept all the next day.  

This didn't take as long to read, but I expect I'll remember it for a much, much longer time.  It increases my appreciation for the New Testament.


            Heather Horrocks  *  *  *  *  *

I was one of the lucky ones who got a limited first edition copy.  However, I moved my bookcases at about that time, and my copy disappeared.  For months I wondered which of my family had borrowed the book without letting me know.  I remember how my father used to immediately claim somebody had stolen the tool he mislaid, so maybe it’s in the genes.  At any rate, my copy of Heather Horrock’s book turned up amidst a bunch of paperback romances.  My goodness, was it four whole years in hiding?  Maybe I ought not to admit to how seldom I dust my books, nor to how haphazardly they are shelved.

            Reading Men Who Knew The Moral Messiah drew me in immediately with the spiritual depth reverently displayed by just one of the wise men.  Yes, Heather went along with the traditional three, names and all.  At Christmas time we usually think of the wise men arriving almost simultaneously with the shepherds, or at least within a week or two after the birth of Christ, and it pleased me that this writer knew it took them about a full year to get to Bethlehem.

            New characters step forward to open eyes and hearts to the fullness of Christ’s mortal growth, spiritual development, compassion, and all-over greatness.  Joseph accepts the role of earthly mentor and guide, teaches Jesus carpentry, and learns from him.  A seller of doves in the temple, a man with palsy, another possessed by unclean spirits, a blind man, a thankful leper, and a thief on a cross all testify of how Jesus loved and blessed them.  Judas Iscariot explains why he felt motivated to pressure Christ into taking over the kingdom and casting out the Romans, and getting thirty pieces of silver was a just payment for the glory of Israel.  Realization of his misunderstanding devastated him.  Peter walked on water, thrice denied knowing Him, and thrice agreed to feed His lambs, ewes and rams.

            My high rating is for the magnitude and depth of reverence that tugged inside me as I read and contemplated what I’ve always been taught but from a slightly different point of view.  

Well researched, well penned.  This is a book I plan to keep handy to re-read often.  I’m so glad I found it.  I need to get a copy of Women Who Knew the Mortal Messiah and I hope she publishes her Women Who Knew the Pre-Mortal Messiah, or whatever she calls it.  Meanwhile there’s the musical that’s coming out.  With her novel, too, Heather Horrocks is not only talented, but she’s a busy woman.

 Actually, I'll have to buy me another copy, because I just gave my treasured one to a granddaughter who left to begin college at BYU Idaho.  Since we've lived in the same house since she was born, the occasion felt worth it.  I hope she likes it as well as I.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

My husband, and Jimmy Stewart

Today is my husband's birthday.  He's been gone almost eighteen months, but far from forgotten.  That's my excuse for posting the following book review.  I read it a few months ago.  And no, I'm not posting reviews in quite the same order as I read the books.  Don't ask me why.  All I could answer would be . . . just because.


               Starr Smith            * * * *

Extremely interesting view of a top movie star who joined the army before Pearl Harbor and rose in rank from private to brigadier general, all with as little publicity as he could manage. He  followed orders with precision and alacrity.  He earned respect and love from those he commanded because he never raised his voice (well, almost never) nor scolded.  He just let those under his command know that he knew what they did, without actually accusing them.  He expected them to correct it themselves, and they did.  He flew 20 bombing mission, most of them because he chose to, and showed concern in everything that affected his men.  

            I, personally, felt my interest stall while Smith went into more detail than I wanted or needed to know about military affairs over and above what pertained to Stewart.  I did enjoy the illustrations, and all in all, I recommend this book to anyone interested in WWII, or in Jimmy Stewart.

The big lesson I learned was that Jimmy Stewart excelled because he filled orders with precision and alacrity, prepared well, loved life, treated others with respect, retained modest humility, and I would do well to do likewise.  I also know and reaffirmed that my husband had those same qualities.  He also retired the year Stewart did.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Another great book to read

I made a resolution last January to keep track of all the books I read in 2009 and write a short synopsis or review to remind me of what I'd read.  I'd like to share my list with you, if you would like.  The great part about blogs is that nobody HAS to read them.  And I already know they can be very time consuming.  I suspect it's a matter of pick and choose.

I rate books on my own book choice list very high, but only if it fills my wants at the time I'm reading them. My wants change.  Sometimes I want a challenge, sometimes something soothing that simply makes me feel good.  And I've always tried to teach myself to look for the good.  This one hit the spot.


            Camille Fronk Olson  * * * * *

Seeking the One Thing that is Needful.  Sister Olsen retells the stories of all Christ’s known interactions with Lazarus, his two sisters, and guests.  In the each case, Martha serves while Mary sits and listens.  At first, Martha grumbles and asks Jesus to bid Mary help her.  Christ points out the one thing that is needful.  Martha learned this lesson.  The other occurrences find Martha still serving and Mary listening and talking, but the animosity is gone.  Mary serves in the capacity of learner and teacher that she is good at and enjoys.  Martha likewise serves with her homemaking talents, her caring, nurturing, loving service equally needful, and her testimony just as strong.   This book encourages women to concentrate first on Christ, then on their own talents and capabilities, rather than comparing ourselves with others.  It’s comforting to my soul.

I also get the idea that every family, every community, every social group of any size needs both a Martha and a Mary.  When it comes right down to it, perhaps each individual needs a time to be a Martha and a time to be a Mary.  It’s even possible to be both during the same day

At least, reading this book gave me lots of comfort and relief regarding all the work I don’t do.


Tuesday, September 1, 2009

My 85th Birthday

"What do you want to do for your birthday, Mom?"  One or the other of my seven children queried me every day for a week or so.  My mind didn't even want to try to come up with an idea.  At least not until a few days ago.  
"I think I would like an open house where friends and family could drop by.  Nothing fancy, but eighty-five does seem like a nice land-mark number, and I'd like to do something special."
This year my birthday, August 30, came on Sunday.  Saturday was our ward temple night, followed by a ward dinner. That sounded pretty special to me.  When they passed around a clipboard in Relief Society I volunteered to bring dessert.  I was thinking about cookies, but about midweek I decided on a Cosco cake, and ordered one.  Carrot cake with cream cheese icing, a rainbow with puffy clouds and the words, "Happy 85th birthday, Grandma Anna."
The weather on Saturday forgot to cool off, but the air conditioning worked well in my car.  I chose being an initiatory patron at the temple because the blessings given to me, as proxy for each specific deceased woman, are beautiful, and personal.  But then, being in the temple becomes more special to me when I let it.  For me, it's a place of rejuvenation, of feeling close to our Father in Heaven, His Son, Jesus Christ, and our families.
Naturally, when I arrived at the dinner with my cake, they simply had to sing Happy Birthday to me.  Pretty sneaky?  Of course.  But since I'm in my second childhood, I can brag about birthdays like children do, and get away with it.  There's another thing I love about getting old.  I can go help clean up in the kitchen if I want to, but if I don't feel like it, I don't  feel guilty.  The dinner tasted wonderful, the people friendly, and it felt rather like a birthday party.
Next day, since I'm the ward chorister, I had chosen my favorite hymns, and the whole meeting seemed very special.  In Primary the children sang happy birthday to me.  I've been Grandma Friendly for several years, and I also sing with the nursery for a quarter hour each week.  My daughter Kat conducted Primary.  
"Grandma Friendly is having a party tonight.  An open house where you can come with your parents.  It's from six to nine.  She'd love to see you there."
I suspect every child at primary wrote, drew, or scribbled on a sheet from a scrapbook, and we had more ready for guests to write on at our open house.  The turnout amazed me, but I shouldn't have been surprised.  The children insisted on being brought.
One mother told me of her six-year-old son's comment on the way to our place. "I won't get to bed on time tonight.  I have to stay up until nine."
"We are going at six and can be home before bedtime."
"No, we can't.  The party is from six to nine, and this is an important occasion."
I'll have to agree.  I don't know when I've had a better time, though I do know a time or two I've been more exhausted.  Isn't it amazing that our body gets as much stress from happy times as it does from hard work ?