Why I Blog

...Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters...
Norman Maclean A River Runs Through It

I am fascinated by untold stories. 

We (rightfully) celebrate birthdays, holidays and vacations.  We mark births, anniversaries, and deaths.  But somewhere in the breathes and pauses and commas, lies the heart of life.

I am particularly intrigued by the lives of women.  Very rarely does time record their actions, let alone their thoughts and feeling and dreams.  Historically, women have been so busy tending to the necessities of home and family that there was little time left over for the luxury of written reflection.  Instead, their beliefs, strengths, and faith was recorded in their children, their families and the others that they touched.

Yet I feel a sisterhood to these unnamed women.  Occasionally, they are mentioned in scripture, in history books or in pioneer journals.  More often than not, they are just an implied character.  Yet, while our settings and situations may change, I believe we share similar desires for our homes and families.  We strive for our own growth while praying for the strength and endurance of others.  We weep our own tears of sadness and exhaustion while drying the eyes of others.  We celebrate success even while planning our next task.

And so I write.  Not often, and not a lot.  My words will never be found in a history book.  But maybe one day, a granddaughter or great-granddaughter will read them.  Maybe she will some comfort, or a kindred spirit, or maybe just the knowledge that her place in the world is not so lonely after all.

Sydney

Soon, Sydney will be turning sixteen.  I am amazed by her kindness, talents and beauty.  Recently, she had to fill out an application for the National Honor Society.  Part of the process requests that you list the volunteer hours that you provide.  She struggled to name specific activities or organizations that she has served.  However, just yesterday I complimented her on her willingness to give up hours at a time to help those around her.  Friday she spent quite a few hours editing photos for a friend.  Yesterday she hid Easter eggs for my mom and then spent a couple hours providing a pitching lesson to a young girl who attended our picnic.  Syd may never be recognized for formal volunteer achievements.  But I will always be grateful for her quiet acts of thoughtful and meaningful service.

Girls Only

Lauren and I were the only two home this weekend.  So we planned a few fun activities.  We went to the school's Spring Carnival, tried out the new Subway, roasted marshmallows and made these fancy-shmancy eggs.  If you'd like to try them out yourself, (and see much cuter examples) check out this link:  Here! 

I Cracked

You know me; I'm not one for following the crowd.  I'd like to think that makes me some sort of rebel, but really it just makes me a day late and a dollar short (so to speak).  I was kind of late jumping on the whole blogging craze.  I refused to go to Alco on opening day (although the second day I was all over that).  And I have steadfastly refused to get a facebook account.

In fact, just saying the term, "facebook" causes me to get a touch of social anxiety. Good night, I can barely be a good friend to the people a see on a weekly basis-the thought of all sorts of additional "friends" just makes me break out in hives. While I think I'm generally "friendly", I am not particularly "open". If I'm your friend, I'm your friend for life. It just may take a long time to get there.

I know, I know. Kind of strange for one who happily blogs away without any sort of "privacy" controls.  Maybe it's the horror stories I hear of being asked to substitue a Primary class through facebook.  Maybe it's the fact that I have one friend who insists that facebook is for the under 25 crowd.  Maybe because it's one more thing that I won't get around to managing.   I don't know. I can't explain it. The only explanation I can give you for the crack in my armor is this:



(Sorry for stealing your picture Jorden)

Seriously?  How could I go through life knowing there were more pictures of Griffen out there?  All I had to do was sell my soul...

You've Never Lived Until...

Yesterday, Lauren was rubbing a wet towel across her teeth, making an unexplainable noise.  "Hey mom," she asked, "What does this sound like?"

"Ummm" was about all I could come up with.

"It's the sound two pickles make when you rub them together." She answered for me.

"You've rubbed two pickles together!?! What for!?!"

"You've never lived the life of a kid if you haven't done that mom," she said disdainfully.

Who knew I was missing out on so much?

A Look at the Week

Softball, softball and more softball.

I Wish

I wish I could show you the beautiful, sunny (no wind) day that we enjoyed.

I wish that I could show you the little hike we went on in order to find pottery, arrowheads and cool rocks.

I wish I could show you the arrowhead I found amidst a cache of pottery.

I wish I could show you Lauren and my dad examining the rare black on red pottery.

I wish I could show you my mom and Lauren extracting teeth from an old cow skull.

I wish I could show you a picture of me diligently packing my camera through sagebrush and carefully taking shots of each event.

Oh yes, all of those things happened.  Oh yes, I did take those pictures.  But oh no, I failed to remember/notice that I had removed the compact flash card a few days ago!