The Tides of Change

My faithful readers: you may have noticed that I changed the name of my blog. After much deliberation and consideration I have determined to change the name of my cyberspace home to something less grotesque and more reflective of myself.

In other news- actually there is no other news. Life is merrily placid. Sense I have no news to report I would like to reminisce. My memory takes me back a year from this time when I was living with my sister in Denver.

My book of thoughts reminds me of the time when they weren’t the only books I mused over. My little nephews loved to read so we spent hours upon hours reading! When we weren’t reading they would want to play jungle. Tyton became  very good at narrating. Here is a sample of his dialog:

Tyton- mummy lion (me) we need to save monkeys, said the daddy lion.

Me- how are we going to that?

Tyton- we will fight the bad guys, said the daddy lion

Tyton- ok lets go help those monkeys said Katy (that’s me) to the daddy lion.

I think Tyton had heard ‘he said’- ‘she said’ so much in our reading that he assumed we used in our everyday language. What an observant kid!  I hope more parents will take time to read with their children as my sister and her husband have done with theirs. I’ve learned from those boys that they don’t always want candy and movies. More than anything they want your time!

Love's Labour- totally worth it!

Love. There is nothing sweeter purer, or more prevalent in everything from the mass media to our every day thoughts. It is in the opera, tis in the R & B, woven into the movies, shadowed in our paintings, masked in our faces, played out in our novels, and strung into our conversations. It illuminates those who have found it. Those who seek it are like a thirsty orchid in a plentiful rain forest- denying the plenty of the land to quench it’s parched  lips. And those who have lost it are like the eagle once ruling the sky then finding itself trapped in a cage with a glass ceiling.

Friends, my lot has been that of the captive eagle, until now. I was blissfully reunited with my true love only just yester eve. That’s right the truck and I have found each other again and rekindled or passion for one another’s company. After years of being in the cab of another (Skippy), I have found my soul mate again. I must confess I had hoped to find myself in my lover’s driver seat much sooner; but alas, this was not to be as my brother was going through some drama with his own truck, forcing me to watch as my heart’s keeper was driven by another.

Then yester day these words came from my father: “would you like to take the truck and go get Vasa from practice?”

Would I like to paint a masterpiece, meet George Washington, have lunch with President Monson, and play tag on the moon? Thousand times yes! Oh sweet mercy for giving me back this gem I had lost.  

As we pulled out the first steps were somewhat timid and haltering (actually it was the transmission) but things were just like old times. And I hope it always stays that way between us.

Please ignore the fact that I can't pose and just enjoy the splender of the truck with me. 

the invisible pictures

I don't know why the pictures didn't show up, but here they are again:
This last picture has a tender place in my heart as it may be one of the last toothless pictures I have for (hopefully) a very long time.

Make ME!

Do you know what irks me? Every time I go to make a new post the first thing I am prompted to do is make a title. How can I be expected to think of a title before I've written anything? Also, I'm sorely handicapped when it comes to making titles. The title portion of my brain never developed properly due to brain hypoxia inflicted in the pool by a sibling (who shall remain nameless) who tried to drown me on numerous occasions.

While I'm on the subject of family- Thursday the 11th was my dad's birthday. My sisters Jill and Cheryl thought that it would be grand to surprise him by showing up at his weekly basketball game to cheer him on and then take him out to lunch. They were right-, it was grand. I took pictures of the occasion- very nice ones too- but I can't figure out how to get them onto my parent’s computer. It doesn't seem like a daunting task so just trust me, it is.

Weekend before last my pals Alicia, Ashley, and Sara went to my cabin so we could do baptisms for the dead at the Snowflake temple. It was so wonderful to be able to go to the temple up in the mountains. Heck, it's great just to be in the mountains. I had a lot of fun. Fortunately I have pictures of this occasion through Alicia's forethought in bringing her camera and generosity in emailing me the pictures. Sbacebo Alicia.

Unfortunatley, I have not figured out how to rotate pictures.  (Ashley, Me, Sara)

Nor can I shrink pictures. This is Alicia

More of us Beautiful girls at the Temple.

This is us watching the sunset on the roof while drinking my parents hidden/ forbidden stash of postum. I remember why I never cared for it as a child.

Since my last post I have been busy doing many mundane things. I can't recall most of what it is and don't feel like giving it a lot of detail so here's the quick overview. I had my eyes dilated. And it felt scary.

I've been cleaning houses for my dad. Last week I spent a night at my sister Cheryl's house so she could go out of town with her husband Dave. I always fear spending too much time with my nephews and nieces because I can't be really nice ALL the time. I fear I may have lost some points in likability and it's going to be tough to get it back.

Last Sunday in Singles Ward while giving the announcements Brother Neilson asked me to come up and chorister. I pointed at my forehead to confirm that he meant me and not some other Katy/Clara. He meant me. I vaguely remember volunteering to lead the music if the chorister wasn't there. But I volunteer for stuff all the time and it's very hard to keep track of what I say I'll do. Moral of the story is: learn the lessons from your parents that they've been laboring to teach you from before (like leading music) and never volunteer for anything unless you actually know how to do it. You may think, they'll never really ask me to do it anyways; or I'll be gone before they can hold that against me. Wrong!