Minus the Drama

It has taken me some time to appreciate Colorado horticulture. Spring has arrived here, but only tentatively so. I suppose I had become accustomed to the whiz-bang circus performance of a Georgia spring that this tiptoe-in-with-satin-slippers approach has been a little disappointing. Georgia, on the other hand, reminds me of an impetuous child who wants it all now; it is a true spring fling. In less than two weeks the landscape can become a bonanza of color and fragrance. It is a plant lover's paradise, and a pollen-allergy nightmare.
Colorado seems to approach the whole season with guarded grace, showing measured restraint, and demanding patience. There are few "stop-the-car" moments to admire some blooming tree or shrub; we have instead subtle color palette transitions. So, I am learning to slow down a little more, to savor spring in stages, and appreciate the signs of renewal and awakening that do exist. Besides, this is Colorado and there is no reason to rush in headlong; it will probably snow in April.


What is leafing out right now? Willow, Lilac, Crabapple, Hawthorn
What is blooming right now? Crocus, Daffodil, Aspen, Birch, Red Maple, Forsythia

What's in a Name?

Dallin and I have the interesting challenge of choosing names for baby. A challenge because everyone seems to have their idea of the "100 best" or "most popular". Do we want a name of a certain origin? A celebrity name? A hipster name? A name inspired by mythology? A name inspired by nature? The lists are endless and exhausting.
Honestly, I just need a name simple to spell and pronounce that works with our last name. And it would be nice if our child happened to like the name too. We have some ideas, but I have been stumped on middle names for a girl, which is important to me.
My own middle name has a family history connection on both the maternal and paternal sides of my family. Margaret was my maternal great-grandmother's middle name and my paternal grandmother's first name. I did not care for the name Margaret much when I was younger, but I did like that my name came from something more than just a baby book at random. I also happened to know both women in my lifetime, which helped the name mean more to me.
My great-grandmother passed away a few days after my sixteenth birthday. She was a very short woman, 4'11" on a good day, and was quite spit-fire. She was independent and sassy. She spent her childhood in Nome, Alaska with gold miners in her father's road house in the early 1900s. After high school she did a nurse's training/lab work program in Portland and Astoria. In her later life, I was sometimes allowed to stay with her in her little apartment. We played cards and pool in the community center during my visits.
My paternal grandmother was confined to a wheelchair for all the time that I knew her. When we visited her she would call for us to come to her for a kiss--and by "kiss" I mean a deluge of smooches all over the face. She was a very loving, affectionate grandmother, in spite of her lack of mobility. In the first grade she contracted rheumatic fever and spent six months in bed with a leak in the valve of her heart. Her physical activity was greatly restricted after that. Despite somewhat fragile health she and her husband raised a family on an Idaho homestead farm site that featured sage brush, scorpions, rattlesnakes, anthills, and powerful windstorms.
I don't know that I have "become a Margaret" just by having it as part of my name, but I can appreciate the Margaret's from my family history and make good with the name that we share.
And, between now and August perhaps inspiration will strike and help me find that right name with some kind of important significance for our baby.

School Days

If I go the (scenic) back way into the city, I have a lovely drive past organic produce farms, grazing cows, horse pastures, a tree farm, and this old schoolhouse. The sign above the front door reads, Valmont School, District No. 4, 1911.The building is sadly dilapidated: a patchy, worn shingle roof, weathered wooden elements, boarded-up windows, and a bell tower with no bell. But, for a 100-year old building, the stairs and the exterior walls seem to made of much sterner stuff. I love to drive past this school because I can still get a feeling of school days of 1911. I can still imagine the students, probably all grades together in one room filing up those steps with primers and lunch pails. There is still a sense of place, even from a bygone time, because the schoolhouse is surrounded by farms and livestock pens that have likely remained unchanged for the last 100 years. I can imagine the young boys attending this rural school thinking about milking the cows and feeding the chickens as they walked home from school. The little girls, amongst their idle tittle-tattle, probably hoped mom wouldn't have too many corn husks waiting for them to shuck. I love scenes of rural America; therein are unadulterated scenes from a historic past.

For Hire

I have done much babysitting, house-sitting, some dog-sitting, and can now add to the list plant-sitting. A friend at church asked me to watch her vegetable garden seedlings for two weeks while she vacations with her family in California. I am thrilled to help!

And, I think I have found my new calling.

Plant sitter: For hire. All potted plants accepted up to nine feet tall. Nice indoor light from south facing windows with good company amongst other friendly plant-mates. Watering, supplemental fertilization, good nurturing, and plant/sitter conversation part of normal fee. Outdoor sunbathing on good weather days. Plant massage upon request. Bedtime stories extra.

My (non-update) update

I feel like I should have some updates about my pregnancy, now in week 16. Trouble is, there isn't much different to tell.
I still have nausea as my daily companion. I still hate eating, but of necessity must eat every two hours. I still stand in front of the open refrigerator, bewildered. I still struggle to be in a grocery store. I still have no joy in cooking. I still have no food cravings. I still gag on anything sweet, even remotely, like LaraBars, sugared dried fruit, or flavored yogurt.
Interestingly, eggs and dairy are what is working the best right now. I find this intriguing because I hardly ever ate eggs or dairy before pregnancy because they didn't work for Dallin, so I never bought them. Right now, scrambled eggs on an English muffin or string cheese are my old standbys.
All is well with baby, of that I am constantly assured. Most of the time when I mention continuing nausea the doctors tell me it means a good amount of required hormones and a "robust placenta." So when I throw up in a parking lot, or a public restroom, or on the stairs, or in the car, or the kitchen sink for the twelvth time, I just keep thinking robust placenta: good. throwing up: not so good. but robust placenta: good.
And while I have gained an appropriate amount of weight at good increments, I do not have much of a baby bump, which is actually a little disconcerting. I guess I expected some outward sign by now of all that my body has been doing. So, I give you photos from week 7 and week 16, respectively. Baby is very well, mommy is mostly well, and daddy is a saint.

In Order

This morning in the communal laundry room one of the washers was marked as "OUT OF ORDER", meaning unusable, or non-functioning, as opposed to it being IN ORDER and fully functioning. Over the weekend I had an insatiable bug to rectify the "out of order" guest room and make things right again. The room was something akin to a tornado-just-blew-through-disaster zone.
With the help of an amazing husband who went and bought me a heavy duty chrome shelving unit after just a brief consultation, and the purchase of several new storage containers, "out of order" became a very tidy "in order" and regained its functionality as a usable space.
A place for everything, and everything in its place. Hooray!

Family: Some Favorites

She's Got Talent

My darling artist-sister took the above photograph of us and recreated it in an enlarged pencil sketch. I just had to brag on her, what a wonderful gift! We love you Lu-Lu!

A Breath of Fresh Air

Last night we had a wonderful treat: the Hilary Hahn violin concert. Dallin received the tickets from me for Christmas as a belated Christmas/early birthday gift (that I can share with him!) The concert was held in the Macky Auditorium on the University of Colorado-Boulder campus. I don't pretend to be a music critic, but I thought I might try to describe the evening.
Hilary Hahn is my age and it seems her parents decided while she was still in the womb she would be a professional musician. Her musical training history is quite staggering. She started studying violin a month before her fourth birthday in the Suzuki program of the Peabody Conservatory. At ten she entered the Curtis Institute of Music. While there she studied with many legendary violin greats. She made her international debut at 14. In 1996 she made her Carnegie Hall debut. She is a two-time Grammy Award-winning soloist with eleven solo albums in twelve years of recording. She tours the world over, performing with some of the best orchestras, etc, etc.
The concert was more like a senior recital: Hilary with piano accompaniment and nothing more. Her pianist, Ukrainian-born Valentina Lisitsa, was equally stunning. They toured the world performing together in 2007, so they were amazingly attuned to one another.
Hilary started with Variations on a Theme by Corelli, which was absolutely flawless. She has intense control and there is no margin of error. Every note was pure and sweet and strong, even when the dynamic was piano. Above all, her style has perfect technical brilliance. She commands every note. Dallin kept saying over and over during the concert that was it like a breath of fresh air.
My other two favorite pieces from the evening were the Violin Sonata No.5 in F major, Opus 24, "Spring" by Beethoven and the Partita No. 1 in B Minor by Bach. The partita was performed as a violin solo, no piano accompaniment. In other words, every note, every dynamic, every nuance, every bow movement was the entire show. Again, she basically represents violin perfection in my opinion. It was simply flawless and gorgeous and clear and sweet and and so powerful.
As if such a performer and such a performance weren't enough, she favored us with THREE encores. It was just lovely. Lovely, lovely.

The Power of Righteous Influence

At our stake Relief Society woman's conference this past weekend the theme was the righteous influence of women. I have been thinking on that all this week and certainly have positive personal experience with the good influence of women. Case in point, three examples of women I have come to know recently:

An adorable young mother of three, thirty-something, in my ward competed two weekends ago in Houston in the national running championships for the half-marathon. She finished third in the nation. In other words, her average mile (x 13) was 5:30; she finished all 13 miles in an hour and 12 minutes. The first-place finisher is a two-time Olympic medalist. My friend has qualified herself for the 2012 London Olympic games in long-distance running (marathon and/or half-marathon)! Yet, she is an amazingly unassuming, humble person. When I expressed my shock and excitement, she seemed to sort of shrug it off. "Running is what I do," she said simply. "But none of it would be possible without God's help." Think what kind of powerful influence for good she will have (and is having) on her coach, her teammates, her fellow runners, her sponsors, her country!

Another friend was born and raised in China and grew up Buddhist with near governmental approbations for atheism. As a young married woman living in Singapore, she felt the desire to seek higher education and picked, of all places, Brigham Young University. Soon after, she found the gospel and after a lengthy investigation, joined the church. She told me she felt, from her very first Sunday meeting, a kind of all-encompassing peace that she had never known before. She said she felt at once secure and settled and somehow more hopeful for the future than she ever had before. Think what a blessing she can now be for her family and friends as she has opportunity to share her testimony. Think of the ripples she could create for good. Think of the power in her righteous influence.

Finally, just this last Sunday a woman was invited to share her thoughts on a certain Christ-like attribute she was trying to gain. For her, a young mother of two, patience with her three-year old son was the single-most important thing on her mind. She shared how she had made it a goal and a matter of prayer and fasting for over a year. Her greatest desire was to have the patience in mothering to respond with compassion instead of anger. I found her simple example very inspiring. That is righteous influence.

I have known women on school boards, city councils, and as attorneys in high places. I have known women who initiated child advocacy reform in their local and state government. I have known women who started charitable organizations for leper communities in India. I have known women as presidents of organizations and principals of high schools. I have also known women who perhaps never ventured beyond their own neighborhoods, but had righteous influence at their own kitchen tables and in their own living rooms. Whatever the realm of responsibility, how ever large the sphere of influence, there is power in living righteously.

Righteous womanhood is everywhere in the world. I am greatly encouraged by the goodness in all women, and have blessed by many, many good women of all walks of life. It is especially encouraging for me to think of the influence of "the covenant [women] of the Lord, who [are] scattered upon all the face of the earth;...armed with righteousness and with the power of God in great glory."

My life has been richly blessed by the power of righteous influence, beginning with my own mom.

Thoughts after a Winter Walk

• I appreciate texture in the winter landscape so much more because the usual visual interest is blanketed in snow. The coarseness of cottonwood bark or the silhouette of a maple or a cluster of cattails is so much more striking in conjunction with a uniform white background.
• The forest may seem dormant, but the crisscrossing tracks of animal prints give proof that it is certainly not dead.
• I love coming across a Mugo pine or other dense evergreen shrub filled with dozens of tiny snowbirds making a cacophony of simultaneous noise. It makes me smile to think what they could be discussing in such earnest.
• Birdwatching, in general, is so much more rewarding in the winter with all the naked trees. I spotted two northern flickers and two woodpeckers of some kind, as well as sparrows, finches, and towhees.
  
• The look of snow laying on evergreen trees is so romantic. The powdered sugar icing look on a Colorado blue spruce or Scotch pine is just lovely.
  
• Snow makes for great creative doings, like making snow angels and snow forts. In the nearby park someone had created a miniature snowman family: daddy, mommy, and baby on a picnic table.
  
• As long as it is not windy, I love the freshness of winter air. I also love all the reflected light from the snow.
  

It's Relative

Earlier this week it was -17, the kind of cold that freezes nose hairs. Today it was 40 and felt balmy. I drove with the windows down and the fresh air was most welcome.

I had a few hours less of nausea today than yesterday, and after a three-week sick-tummy-roller-coaster, those few hours made me feel like a million bucks.

The temple reopened this week after a two-week maintenance close. I was missing my temple time after just two weeks. My friends in Atlanta have been without a temple since July 2009. But, in a little over three months they will have the spiritual high of a temple open house and temple dedication by the Prophet.

Without realizing it, I dropped my cell phone getting out of the car this morning in Denver and it fell face down in a puddle of slushy snow for 5+ hours. When I came back to the car I miraculously discovered it under the front driver side tire. The speaker sound is a little fuzzy, but it works and it isn't an crushed pile of plastic in a parking lot 50 miles from home.

Every Saturday morning in January I attended stake choir rehearsals. The 75-member choir and 10-member orchestra are performing tomorrow for our Relief Society women's conference. I have been privileged to mingle with some of the very best musicians in the stake for weeks. Most are music majors who have sung in choirs or played in orchestras, professional and otherwise, for years. I attend as a mediocre, off-key singer, who struggles to breathe in the right place, and hit high-ish notes. I also attend hoping to learn a few things about how to run a good choir rehearsal. I should feel envious or embarrassed or less-than-up-to-snuff. Mostly though, I am amazed that I can claim association with such a phenomenal group.

Sew Busy

When baby comes our guest room/creative universe will become the nursery. The room is currently inundated with my craft projects, some major, some minor, of all varieties. In anticipation of packing all that up, I have felt some extra initiative to finish something. Amazing what a deadline can do for you! With some return of my strength and energy and in the last two days, I put time and energy into my living room pillow project. And, it is complete!The project was to take the original four pillows from the couch and make them...well, a little less bachelor pad (Dallin approved). All four pillows now have a checker front, two have solid red backs, two have floral print backs. The adorable little rectangular one was a Christmas present from my mom. I have started this couch throw with matching fabric, as well. The front face is done; it still needs the batting and backing and a final sewing of all layers together. Yea for progress! One project down, just *** to go. (Eek!)

Sanctuary

After many years of working outdoors with the plant kingdom, I have a real need on a regular basis to breathe fresh air, touch something living, and hear the cadence of nature. Without that I start to feel like a caged animal. We have been very blessed in recent days with warmish winter sunshine, and I have gotten out on my walks again. Today was especially refreshing. I spent several hours at a nature preserve not far from home. I found incredible peace in the sound of the rustle of reed grass. I was able to study tree buds and seed pods and sit by a creek and listen to its gurgle. How grateful I am for this source of personal replenishment.

Manna

I've been thinking about my current jobless state and my seeming inability to find employment, even after six months of trying. True, my skills and talents are somewhat specialized, but I have branched out in my search to quite a variety of job possibilities, and still nothing. Mostly I want to figure out the "what am I supposed to be learning from this?" question. No grand revelations, but I have some initial thoughts that have been comforting.
During my seven years in Georgia I made several job changes, sometimes to improve my situation, sometimes to pursue more school, sometimes to take advantage of an opportunity. In every circumstance--the shift from one job to another, or from job to school--the transition was absolutely seamless. I literally would quit a job on a Friday and start a new one on a Monday. Or I finished my time at school and had a job lined up and waiting for me. I was single, I had no family nearby, and I had a legitimate need to be able to support myself. The miracle though, is how well my Father in Heaven took care of me.
The best analogy I can liken it to is the children of Israel and their manna from heaven. I felt over and over again in my Georgia experience that manna was simply laid before me, freely given from a merciful Father, and I only had to choose to pick it up.
So many of my initial experiences and connections with people became important a few years down the road in other opportunities and experiences. For example, the skills I gained in my first job were incredibly valuable as the grounds supervisor at the temple. My relationship with the professors at Gwinnett Tech made a huge difference in my graduate school application to the University of Georgia. If I had not been in the Mountain Park single's branch with President Heaton, I think my history would have been much different, especially in regards to the opportunity to work at the temple.
Because of all these experiences I have great faith in the fact that we are given those things that we need, at the time, and in the manner we need them. I was given my manna, and it was always sufficient for my needs, and it was always so perfectly bestowed. The timing of the gift was always the miracle for me. I recognize gratefully, humbly that I have been supported and uplifted and helped, especially in my employment, in ways too numerous to name. And, consequently, I have faith and testimony that if there is ever a legitimate NEED to work, I will again be likewise blessed. It appears that now is not a time of need.
I have confidence in these beautiful words. They have been true for me, they are true for me now, and as the song teaches, they will, in the future continue to be true.
My shepherd will supply my need; Jehovah is his name;
In pastures fresh he makes me feed, beside the living stream...
The sure provisions of the my God attend me all my days;
May thy house be mine abode and all my work be praise!
There would I find a settled rest while others go and come,
No more a stranger, nor a guest, but like a child at home.

(Trying to) keep it in perspective

The other night Dallin and I read in Matthew 23:23 about those who omit the "weightier matters of the law" and I was reminded of a talk I gave in my old ward from that verse. In my preparations, I had found some comments by Elder Oaks about means (or mortal methods) and ends (or eternal goals). He taught that when we focus solely on means we are in effect, omitting the weightier matters of the law. Our challenge is to not lose sight of the eternal goal, the desired end, by focusing too intently on the obvious earthly method. The weightier matters of the law are spiritual patterns, qualities, and attributes that move us strongly toward our eternal goals.
I have been thinking on this because I am struggling, as most every newly pregnant woman does, to remember the long-term purpose to all this current everyday grossness. Yesterday was horrid. (Yes, I am complaining). But then Dallin gave me a blessing, and it somehow seemed manageable. And I read Mara's blog and realized it could always be worse. And then friends started to hear the news and give their encouragement and congratulations, and I remembered that I am not alone in this season of life.
Becky Paget was one of the friends that wrote and among other things said simply, "It's worth it." I read that with tears rolling down my cheeks, but I read it with courage and faith that it is true. Another friend, Noella, wrote to tell me that she is also pregnant with her first and now in her second trimester, but was so sick during her first trimester that she actually lost weight. I also thought of my friend, Hitomi, who was sick for the entire nine months with her first pregnancy. And, so, I am counting my blessings.

Yesterday, I got out of bed, took a shower and got dressed. I cleaned the kitchen. I made dinner. And, really, that was about all. But, because I continued to breath in and out and try to eat food as best as I could, so did baby. My life is no longer just about me. Every time I breath, whether I feel disgusting or not, I am giving our baby time to grow. Hard as it is, that is the end I am trying to remember. The end that means I will be a mommy, now and through all eternity.

Reason no. 47

Dear Dallin,

One of the things I appreciated about you right from the start was your chivalry. I suppose your acts of gentlemanly behavior were carefully noted because I was beginning to think the art form was dead. From day one you opened my car door and helped me in and I remember thinking at the time, "Yes! This is what it should be like!"

And, I love you all the more that the chivalry wasn't just a show during our courtship, but is very much a part of your character. It is a manifestation of kindness and respect for me every time you open a door, or let me go first, or carry all the heavy stuff, or insist on washing all the dishes, or carrying up all the groceries, or dishing my food first.

Every night at dinner, you pull out my chair for me, when no one but the chair sees you do it. You know how it makes me feel? Like a queen! And I love you for it.

For always, Liezel

Meet Amos

I have a small, but growing, collection of children's books; I find a certain magic in their combination of captivating story and charming illustrations. My dream list includes (amongst MANY things) the plan to write and/or illustrate a book for children in my lifetime. And, to keep fresh inspiration around me, I own several and peruse the public library and bookstores for gems I might someday like to own. It should come as no surprise, therefore, that I asked for a book or two (with a list of five or six as ideas) for Christmas. What was a surprise, however, was that Dallin got everything on my list, plus a handful more! I have too many favorites to name, but would like to review just one new favorite.
A Sick Day for Amos McGee, written by Phillip C. Stead and illustrated by Erin E. Stead, is new as of June 2010 (first edition). Without even cracking the cover I knew it would be good. It has that whimsical, endearing kind of quality even at first glance. Page one introduces our main character Amos McGee--just look at him! He is that perfect sort of rosy cheeked sprightly little grandpa-man that adores his grandchildren and still keeps his roses pruned and his front porch neatly swept. I feel like I could write a page worth of character sketch on him just by looking at his delicately sketched face.
The story follows Amos, the kind, old zookeeper who tends to each animal with utmost care providing personalized attention. For example, Amos lends his handkerchief to the rhinoceros (who always has a runny nose) and sits quietly with the penguin (who is very shy). Amos's kindness is rewarded by his animals friends who care just as much for him as he does for them.
The illustrations are very simple, echoing the simple, but completely fresh story idea. I love the minimalist, but bold primary colors used only on key characters or action. The artist, Erin Stead uses pencil and applies color using woodblock printing, which further enhances the home-spun, approachable quality.
Aside from the main story line, we have lovely little details and just a touch of artistic embellishment. For example, Amos has a teddy bear and a pet mouse that you are never introduced to, but who appear throughout the book. (Little children would love to point out all the mouse sightings!) A little mouse is seen waiting at a miniature bus stop as Amos trundles off to work. A rabbit rides the number 5 bus to work with Amos. A little bird tags along with the zoo animals and, incidentally, becomes friends with Amos's pet mouse.
I think it is charming. And, I find it great inspiration. Happy reading!

If I Only Had Six: Kitchen Tools

We live in a world of abundance ("for there is enough and to spare"). But let's just say I had to pick just six kitchen tools and make do. What would I pick?

• Two-tier bamboo steamer: a recent discovery of mine that is very simple, efficient, and so easy to use AND clean. Steam meats and vegetables in 20 minutes or less in a healthy, non-labor intensive way. Rinse the layers when you are finished and let the bamboo air dry. Done. Easy as that.
• Food processor: the quickest easiest way to do guacamole, pesto, hummus, homemade salad dressings, mince ginger, garlic, etc., etc. I have also used it to mix cookie dough and puree pumpkin. Throw in the ingredients, push the button, wah-la!
  
• My super-duty red Rubbermaid spatula: I don't know what they do to it to make it so perfectly effective, but it does a better job than ANY spatula I have EVER owned. I can mix waffle batter, or bread dough, or pasta salad, or anything with this and then use it to scrape the bowl PERFECTLY clean. This particular tool certainly earns its name of "child cheater" because it doesn't leave even a morsel behind for little fingers to lurp up.
• Good old fashioned non-stick 12" skillet: I probably use my skillet five times a week. In fact, half the time I just pick it up from the pile of hand washed dishes from last night because it doesn't even have time to get put away.
• Measuring cups: When I cook I am usually a two glugs, season-to-taste kind of girl, but when I bake, it's a different story. I have had too many flops to do it otherwise. Hence, the measuring cups are essential. Dallin and I came into our marriage each with a set of nice metal measuring cups and there are times when I am on a baking spree that all eight cups are dirty.
  
• Cutco knife: I have been spoiled right from the get-go. We are lucky enough to own a set of Cutco knives and there is no going back now! But since this is a minimalist's kitchen, I would pick just the "petite carver", a medium size serrated knife with multi-purpose slicing/chopping/dicing/mincing ability.
  

Plant Psychology

So someday I'd like to have a greenhouse and/or a sun room, but right now I have one south facing window and a crowd of five plants vying for the best rays. And, in the last few weeks I have made some interesting plant observations that could almost be a fascinating study in human character (but then I'm a plant nerd and I read way more into these things than is practical.)

1. The Aloe vera purchased in July started with four fleshy leaves and was a scrawny 4" tall. I now have a beast with at least twenty appendages spiraling out in all directions that has grown to almost two feet tall. This plant literally grows a new shoot every week. I am not joking when I say I can see this one grow. Some plants have a serious will to live; give this one some occasional water and good sun and stand back.
2. The African violet also from this summer has made a nice comeback. I started applying a light liquid fertilizer every month and have been richly rewarded for my small efforts. Currently the little bloomer has twelve open flowers and fifteen buds (yes, I did just count!) Amazing. The existing twelve flowers opened the week of December 13 and on this day not a single one has even begun to fade. Amazing. I am grateful for a plant that has such super curb appeal and seriously exceeded my expectations.
3. My orchid is my lesson is patience. The little beauty still looks great. It has good light and routine fertilizer, but has grown only slightly and added only one or two little feeder roots in three months. I am grateful for its consistency.
4. In October I moved the geranium (Pelargonium spp.) from our borrowed outdoor garden plot to our apartment dining room. Since then it has followed an interesting course. When I moved it in it was incredibly happy and blooming like crazy with plentiful rich green leaves. Slowly, those flowers faded, but were not replaced with new blooms. Then, slowly it stopped growing. Then the nice deep green leaves started to shrivel and curl and drop. All the while I was tending and deadheading, and watering as needed. But, to no avail. The geranium seemed to be giving up. Little do I know! In the last week it has made a transformation. Instead of continuing to drop leaves and shrivel, the leaves that remained doubled in size and started reaching for the sunlight. They are a nice rich green and no other leaves have dropped since. I have an unsuspecting hero, a champion adapter, a tenacious fighter. (By the way, the pot fellow to the geranium was a lavender. It pooped out in week 2 of the move from outside to inside. All the more reason for a kudos to the geranium).
5. An avocado seed. Okay, so I have two lessons in patience. But, I know that it works, I know what to expect, so I can be patient. In Atlanta I grew an avocado from a seed and waited six months for it to germinate in a glass of water. (It works, it really does!) When my Atlanta avocado finally had some roots and a shoot, I planted it up and in time had a three foot tall indoor avocado plant. My current avocado has taken just as long, but at long last it has three beautiful white roots and two upright shoots. In the next few days I intend to plant it up.
   

New Year's Resolution

Don't look back. Choose to change. Forgive and forget. The best is yet to be.

Good advice for any year. The best advice for every day.

2010 has been amazing. This is me choosing to make 2011 even better.

The Gift of Music

My Christmas 2010 has been blessed with the gift of music.
My calling in church is choir director; Dallin is the choir accompanist. I started thinking about the Christmas program around Halloween and we began practicing that music in mid-November. We had a beautiful program, which included the Primary children, the choir, and a vocal soloist. The true spirit of Christmas was communicated through the sacred music.
As the wife of a musician I have also enjoyed hearing Dallin play at many events, mostly on violin, where I was his official page turner. Our ward had a Christmas devotional (instead of a Christmas party focused on Santa) with the theme "Come to Bethlehem" that yet again communicated through music the miracle of the Savior's birth, and our invitation to come and see.
We attended the popular and talented Colorado Mormon Chorale who gave a wonderful concert full of the message of the season. One of the treats during the time we visited my family was going to a musical theatrical performance called, "Savior of the World", which begins with Elisabeth and Zacharias being blessed with a son and ends after Christ's resurrection. The play was full of emotion as some of the most miraculous events in history were portrayed.
Dallin and I learned Christmas music on soprano recorders and shared it with others, including my family. Dallin played some Christmas mandolin, and I was privileged to hear him practice, at least ten times the Adolphe Adam piano accompaniment part for "O Holy Night" ( I never tire of that beautiful piece!)
When I was at home or in the car, almost without exception, I was listening to the local classical music station. The station focused on the sacred and traditional, and played amazing choral arrangements of some of the best loved Christmas carols through the ages.
I am so impressed by the plethora and quality of music celebrating the birth and mission and life of the Savior. What a blessing to hear these timeless favorites and their powerful message! What a gift to be reminded how in "once in royal David's city stood a lowly cattle shed" where the "little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head". How beautiful to remember the prophesies fulfilled, "baby Jesus will be born in a land far, far way...how blessed that are Lord was born, let earth receive her King." And the joy that comes in looking forward to the return of the Son of God as "King of Kings and Lord of Lords."

The Christmas Stool, Revisited

For several years I have used a bar stool as my Christmas "tree". This year Dallin and I decided to use the stool again. It is always a special time for me to bring out the Christmas ornaments and decorate, mostly because the great majority of my ornaments are handmade by my mom. She started a tradition of making each child an ornament every Christmas. By the time I moved out, I had a box full of beautiful creations, one for every year of my life. I love her for this gift of time and talent.I am my mother's daughter and have been realizing more and more that so many of the things that I love I gleaned from her. Why should I now take an interest in sewing, except that I saw my mom sewing often as a young girl? Why I should enjoy scrapbooking, except that she became an expert at it and spent many hours putting random pictures into a coherent history of our family? Why should I care about family history work except that I accompanied my mom often to the Salt Lake City Family History Library on Friday nights for evenings of microfilm searching together. Why should I have a desire to preserve family memories in written form, except that my mom first started the pattern of oral history recording with my great-grandmother when I was just a baby? And why should I now find delight in creative endeavors of a dozen varieties except that she did, and does now, love using her hands to create?
Our Christmas stool is full of her homemade ornaments, I have her homemade dolls and bunnies, I have her paintings, I have the book of remembrance she organized that gives voice to ancestors long since past, and I have her creative spirit that needs avenues for expression.
Recently, I discovered that my mom was much-in-demand as a tole painting instructor in Houston when I was in elementary school. Despite her notoriety and acclaim, she ultimately decided to put what could have been a career as a gifted artist aside, in order to be a fully-invested mother. Perhaps there were students who could have gained much from her tole painting teaching in a studio setting. But, how grateful I am that her teaching instead focused on home and family where her young children-pupils were quietly absorbing by example. And there was so much to absorb! My mom has an insatiable appetite for learning and then doing all things that are "virtuous, lovely, of good report, or praiseworthy." How grateful I am for her.

In Jane verbiage, this is me, and I have big shoes to fill.

"I give unto you a pattern..." (D&C 52:14)

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints recently organized another worldwide leadership training conference https://new.lds.org/training/worldwide-leadership?lang=eng. Remarkably, the leadership conference took place on 13 November, less than six weeks after the Semiannual General Conference held over the October 2-3 weekend. How they could prepare for both in such a close proximity of time, I don't pretend to understand. But, they did and I am amazed.
Dallin and I watched part of the archived leadership conference on-line. I realize what a blessing not only organized religion is, but also an organized religion, which is what I see in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I appreciate the very clear, very orderly manner that material is presented and discussed. I love that the teaching model in the church is not a stuff-it-down-your-throat approach, but (ideally) full of earnest, inspired, spirit-imbued presentation, with invitations to learn and apply. I am impressed by the following principles emphasized in this conference that have application in church AND family government:

• Leaders/parents listening more than they talk in church AND family councils and much participation by every member, which fosters revelation.
  
• A focus on ministering, a focus on people, a focus on the resources and talents of all.
• The council is an inspired pattern applicable in many settings, and when properly used brings unity and a greater portion of the spirit.
• The inspired council shares the burden of responsibility for work of the kingdom.
  

Each of the above principles, of course, have direct application to the family council. I love the idea of family government according to the Lord's pattern; a pattern and model that is organized by a father and a mother, and allows children equal opportunity for participation.
Last night Dallin and I went to a fireside on the topic of "Science, Religion, and Revelation". The speaker emphasized the importance of seeking after truth instead of comfort in each of these three areas. I see the inspired pattern of the Lord in the work of the church, as we are encouraged to use both the priesthood line AND the personal line for seeking truth. We are not to coast along comfortably relying on every word the bishop speaks, while neglecting the gift of the Holy Ghost and personal revelation in our stewardships. We are invited throughout scripture to seek that we may find, especially in our seeking for divine truth to govern our families.
It is an empowering principle ordained by God to have personal governance and accountability in church and family life. Our Father in Heaven desires our participation in his work. Inspired delegation, self-reliance, and salvation are His principles. He supplies the pattern, and grants us agency, guides us to truth as recorded in scripture, and the living Prophet, and holds us accountable according to the light and knowledge we have received within the realm of our divinely appointed roles. Our Father in Heaven desires to give us all that He has. He tutors us in His ways, we gain instruction as we consider His way of organizing, preparing, watching, and counseling. In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I find a divinely revealed framework for operating in His way. In personal revelation I find the manner to work out the specifics for my time and place and stewardship.

The Best Start

Dear Dallin,

I love that you make breakfast for us everyday. I love our morning routine. The day is so much better when we start it together. The last two mornings I haven't had that luxury, and the day is still good, but it just isn't the same. What can compare with that half-hour of starting with prayer, watching a General Conference talk and having smoothies and homemade bread or waffles (with a healthy dose of love)? Nothing, I submit. And I have missed our mornings. How grateful I am for you and your multitude of little kindness. "By small and simple things, great things are brought to pass..."--how true that is in love.

All my love, Liezel

Her Labor of Love

Some of my current "nesting" activities include sewing projects, and through these projects I have gained a whole new appreciation for my maternal grandmother's incredible quilting ability. My grandma made the quilt pictured here and intended it to be my wedding gift. Unfortunately, she didn't live long enough to give it to me at that happy event. Shortly before she passed away, she gave it to my mom, who gave it to me while I was still single. Instead of a gift to celebrate my new life as a married woman, it became a beautiful treasure to remember her earth life.
I have been making new pillows for the living room. The design I chose is simple, just four squares on the front and a solid color on the back. I consider it a small triumph if all my corners match up. I made a picnic blanket from old blue jeans this summer and I had a victory dance every time I finished a row. So, it is with great awe that I consider my grandma sewing together hundreds of little pieces in such an intricate design. I have not ventured beyond squares--and for good reason! Her quilt pattern included pieces of fabric just 1" by 1.5" that all had to be cut and arranged and sewn together. And all this was done while she was battling cancer. For my grandma, quilting was truly a labor of love. Grandma was never very good at saying how she felt, but her quilt was the way she could show how she loved me. I am so grateful for her.

I AM Grateful

Last night Dallin gave the family home evening lesson about expressing gratitude, especially for those things that are easy to take for granted. I realize how wonderful my own family has always been, and how easy, therefore, they are to take for granted. To each of you I want to say: I am proud to call you family! I love our family culture. I love our nicknames and pet names and playful teasing. I love our traditions. I love our game nights and together time. I love how we can laugh together. I love our memories. I love each member individually. I love your unique personality. I love to hear of your successes. I marvel at the challenges you are working through, and handling so very well! I am amazed at your talents and abilities. I am so grateful for the divine institution of family, so central to the plan of salvation, which allows us all to be together forever. I love you each and every one.

Be Not Ashamed

Most mornings I take a walk in a smallish natural recreational area across the street from our apartment. This morning I came across a very interesting scenario. In a heavily forested part of the path there were a dozen or more black crows making an excessive amount of noise all in one tree. I thought they were expressing their angst about the sudden turn in the weather. As I studied the tree closer, however, I discovered a large owl at the center of the crows; it was a taunting session, a gang of 12 crows to one owl. The crows were making an obnoxious scene squawking (decibels multiplied by 12) and swooping closer and closer, trying to tease, pressure, or disarm the owl. The owl seemed very calm and collected and would only occasionally shift on the tree branch. It sat silent and still as a statue. After enough taunting, though, the owl would suddenly fly to another tree, and the persistent crows would immediately follow, purposely flying into the owl in flight and continuously squawking. I watched this scenario be repeated four times before I continued on my walk.
The little forest drama was good food for thought as I continued on my way. It reminded me of Nephi's prophetic vision of the Savior, "Wherefore they scourge him, and he suffereth it; and they smite him, and he suffereth it. Yea, they spit upon him, and he suffereth it, because of his loving kindness and his long suffering towards the children of men" (1 Nephi 19:9). In Mosiah 15:5 the prophet Abinadi further teaches of Christ, "[He] suffereth temptation, but yieldeth not to the temptation, but suffereth himself to be mocked, and scourged, and cast out, and disowned..."
I thought of the prophet Lehi's vision of the tree of life with those "in the attitude of mocking" and "point[ing] the finger of scorn", (with the noisy, persistent voice of the world!) but the faithful "heeded them not."
Elder Neil L. Andersen reiterated this message of courage and faith in his October 2010 General Conference message. "As disciples of Christ, we stand apart from the world. There may be times we feel uncomfortable as the fingers of scorn mock and dismiss what is sacred to us. President Thomas S. Monson warned, 'Unless the roots of your testimony are firmly planted, it will be difficult for you to withstand the ridicule of those who challenge your faith.' Paul admonished, 'God hath not given us the spirit of fear,...Be not...ashamed of the testimony of our Lord' (2 Timothy 1:7-8). We never leave Him...Whatever challenges arise, we never, never leave Him."

Paint the Town Red

Autumn was a little slow in coming here, but it has (finally) officially arrived now. The signs of the season's arrival are all around. We have a jack-o-lantern on our patio. The basil plant succumbed to the cold; all the leaves are shriveled and black. Jackets and scarves (hooray!) are needed in the morning. Soup season has started. Fresh cooked pumpkin has overtaken the kitchen and is finding its way into many recipes (pumpkin soup, pumpkin bread, pumpkin pudding, and pumpkin pie). And there are fallen leaves everywhere that MUST be walked through. (I think I might have some kind of deficiency of fall leaf crunching because I grew up with mostly pine needles). Before the trees are completely naked, the horticulturist in me begs to give voice to the colors of the season here.
Many of the trees in this area turn yellow/brown in the autumn (ie, poplar, aspen, willow, green ash, honeylocust, linden, sycamore, most of the oaks). But, there are a few trees worth mentioning individually that are real stand-outs amongst all the golden leaves. Maples are often wonderful showstoppers in the fall. Sugar maples in the northeast provide most of the stunning color. Sugar maples aren't very plentiful here, but other types of maples give quite a show. For example, both the Acer rubrum 'October Glory' (red maple) and Acer x freemanii 'Autumn Blaze' (a cross between a red maple and a sugar maple) have brilliant orange-red fall color. The 'October Glory' maple has a nice rounded form and grows to 40' or more, and its fall color can persist for three to four weeks. The 'Autumn Blaze' maple has much more deeply lobed leaves, similar to a silver maple and has extremely long-lasting color. It grows rapidly and is hardy to zone 4 (ie, Iowa wind-chill hardy), and is also quite drought tolerant. Another tree that really caught my attention was the Fraxinus americana 'Autumn Purple'. This is a cultivar of the white ash with a spectacular range of fall color from deep purple, to maroon, to red, finally to yellow-orange. I enjoyed seeing this tree slowly make its color change over an entire month. Another added perk of this tree is that is is male, so there is no messy fruit dropping everywhere (ash trees have a fruit that looks like a canoe paddle).
Finally, a note on one of the lovely native trees with great fall color. Acer grandidentatum (big tooth maple) grows as a large native shrub or small tree from Montana to northern Mexico and is found in Colorado at elevations between 7000-8000'. The leaves are 4" in diameter with blunt edges and nice red-orange fall color. It is often found growing in association with gambel oak, chokecherry, and box elder.