Potpourri Thursday = Different Things To Share That Smell Great!
Ok, not exactly. But I don't have to really explain potpourri, do I?
Just thought I'd let you know I've kissed my comfort zone goodbye.
A good friend told me about this awesome blog/contest/get-an-agent fest and suggested I join. And so what do you think I did? Nothing! (Really, I sat there looking at the email thinking, 'no, no, no, not gonna do it!) Until the aforementioned friend, in subtle-good-friend fashion asked, "what could it hurt?" Which I took to mean: "get off facebook and do something with your writing!!" Ugh. So before I could leave my chair to stock up on the day's supply of chocolate - I signed up.Wish me luck, or a teddy bear, or lots more chocolate!
And in other news: I am now sporting bangs. For the first time in maybe ten years. Maybe I'll post a picture sometime after I get around to doing my hair. . .
What else? I would like to disconnect my phone until the election is over. Am I the only one getting a zillion political calls?
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
WIP Wednesday
Work-In-Progress Wednesday
Okay class, how do you spell revisions?
M-O-L-A-S-S-E-S.
Sums it up for me, how about you?
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Tuesday Triumph
You might notice my new blog schedule. Yesterday was Marriage Book Review Monday. And if that wasn't too much excitement, today is Tuesday Triumph. I promise not all days will be full of (slightly overused) blog title alliterations. Potpourri Thursday has no poetic effort! Friday will have something to do with Friends and Wednesday will be dedicated to the Work In Progress. But as for Tuesdays, I thought I'd share some triumph, large or small or somewhere in between. And I'd love to hear about yours too!
So here goes. Drum roll please. . . I am learning Yoga.
You can stop laughing now. Okay, now?
Why is this my triumph? Let's just say I bought some very comfortable exercise "yoga" pants, I don't know how many months (ahem, years) ago with the intention of signing right up and getting all stretched out. Never happened, until now. I'm learning slowly, but it feels good to do something I've been wanting to do for a while. How about you?
So here goes. Drum roll please. . . I am learning Yoga.
You can stop laughing now. Okay, now?
Why is this my triumph? Let's just say I bought some very comfortable exercise "yoga" pants, I don't know how many months (ahem, years) ago with the intention of signing right up and getting all stretched out. Never happened, until now. I'm learning slowly, but it feels good to do something I've been wanting to do for a while. How about you?
Monday, August 27, 2012
Marriage Book Review Monday
Have you ever noticed there are a lot of marriage books out there?
It took me a while to figure out I loved reading books on the subject. (Someone may have pointed out to me I might be a marriage book junkie :) I've decided to dedicate Mondays on the blog to marriage book reviews. Why? For the fun of it, or maybe I think happy marriages are important, possible and worth the work! Or maybe I miss doing book reports in school. . .
(This post also appears at Making Marriage Merry - an awesome marriage blog! Check it out!)
For Starters:
Title: Teens, Temple
Marriage & Eternity
Author: Allan K. Burgess
Publisher: Deseret Book
Year: 1988
How I found it: Christmas Gift
Available on Amazon: Here
Audience: LDS teens and their parents, great
for youth leaders, too.
Hardcover, 105 pages
This
little gem of a book is an easy read. The writing is straightforward and organized
into concise chapters with summaries. Burgess draws on experience as a Seminary
teacher and counselor, as well as teachings of latter day prophets and general
authorities.
I received
this as a Christmas gift as a teenager. I think it was the first "marriage" book I’d
ever read. I was 14 and of course, I hadn’t met my future husband and though I
wouldn’t be married for years to come, I read the book within a day. What can I
say? I’ve been fascinated by marriage for a long time. Time and experience has
only increased my interest in, as well as my deep appreciation for, the gift of
marriage.
From
the front flap:
“Why should I get married in the
temple?” “What happens when I go to the temple for the first time?” “Why are
the covenants made there so important?” . . . Allan K. Burgess, a seminary
teacher with considerable experience in counseling teenagers and young adults,
answers these questions and puts to rest some of the myths and concerns you may
have about the temple. Besides learning how to prepare for your first visit to
the temple and what to expect from it, you will also learn the importance of
the covenants you make and the rich blessings in store for you if you honor
those covenants.”
What I
appreciate:
The concept he teaches about the
difference between a temple wedding and a celestial marriage. The wedding is an
event that takes place during one day and ends. The marriage can last a
lifetime and for eternity if it is celestial. It is a process that requires two
people motivated to keep their covenants.
This
idea might have been the most beneficial for me to learn as a young woman. Our
youth are taught much about planning to marry in the temple, and rightly so,
but sometimes the focus can be on the event of the wedding instead of the
covenants or the quality of the marriage relationship after the wedding day.
Quote
from Chapter Two, page 25:
“Many
young people labor and live under false notions, feeling that a marriage
contract , and especially if it is a temple marriage, solves all the problems;
and many people further think that marriage is a sort of perpetual motion
program. Once set in motion by a marriage ceremony, it will never run down. I
want to tell you that there are no marriages that can ever be happy ones unless
two people work at it.” (The Teachings of
Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft,
1982], p. 307.)
Quote
from Chapter Six, page 60:
“He
helped her kneel at the altar, and then he walked around to the other side of
the altar where he knelt across from her. As their eyes met, I noticed tears. .
. . You could both see and feel the joy
that they felt at that moment.”
My two
cents:
Great
read for teens and their parents. Keep
in mind the book was published before the digital revolution – so no advice
regarding the internet, facebook, etc. Also, he discusses temple worthiness and
uses a number of real life stories (names changed, of course) that include
serious topics-therefore probably best suited for mature teens.
Up Next Week:
The Five Love Languages/Gary Chapman
The Five Love Languages/Gary Chapman
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Work-In-Progress Wednesday
The day wherein I think of my manuscript as a sculpture and I know exactly how much clay to remove and where it needs to be added. And I know precisely how to smooth the rough spots and I get to watch it take shape. Beautiful, breath-taking shape. Yeah, that kind of day. A girl can hope, can't she?
Friday, June 8, 2012
Come On Forty, Let's Do This
Come On Forty, Let's Do This
Birthday Thing
I've been waiting for you for how many years now?
For the record, it wasn't easy getting here.
Remember Horse Neck Beach when I was seven and tried to swim out to my brother, who was six-foot-four, I'm sure. Those waves and that water were way over my head. Somehow he heard me call his name and I got to see my eighth birthday. A few close calls like that are reasons why I appreciate you.
And I like that you've arrived to grant admission to the shores of the land known as the second half of my life. If you were a jersey, I'd wear your numbers like a badge of honor. I suppose when it comes down to it, I owe the lofty world of academia for the prestige I can now carry with me. Wasn't it there that you, the lovely 4.0, were deemed perfect?
And last, but not least, I'm glad you bring a reason to celebrate life.
Which is code for eat cake, take time to notice the tallest trees and the smallest butterflies, and dance the electric slide as only a proud new forty-year-old can--but probably not all at the same time.
Come On Forty, Let's Do This
I didn't know I was going to make a habit out of posting on my birthday, but it looks like that's what I've done!
http://whyigetup.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-i-really-get-up.html
http://whyigetup.blogspot.com/2011/06/simple-gifts.html
Birthday Thing
I've been waiting for you for how many years now?
For the record, it wasn't easy getting here.
Remember Horse Neck Beach when I was seven and tried to swim out to my brother, who was six-foot-four, I'm sure. Those waves and that water were way over my head. Somehow he heard me call his name and I got to see my eighth birthday. A few close calls like that are reasons why I appreciate you.
And I like that you've arrived to grant admission to the shores of the land known as the second half of my life. If you were a jersey, I'd wear your numbers like a badge of honor. I suppose when it comes down to it, I owe the lofty world of academia for the prestige I can now carry with me. Wasn't it there that you, the lovely 4.0, were deemed perfect?
And last, but not least, I'm glad you bring a reason to celebrate life.
Which is code for eat cake, take time to notice the tallest trees and the smallest butterflies, and dance the electric slide as only a proud new forty-year-old can--but probably not all at the same time.
Come On Forty, Let's Do This
I didn't know I was going to make a habit out of posting on my birthday, but it looks like that's what I've done!
http://whyigetup.blogspot.com/2010/06/why-i-really-get-up.html
http://whyigetup.blogspot.com/2011/06/simple-gifts.html
Friday, May 25, 2012
Last Day of School, Anyone?
Some mothers get soo sentimental about the first day of school. There is no shortage of pictures and posts about babies growing up too fast and 'how did we get here' and a few confessionals that include how free a mother feels when her youngest is in school for a full day.
I'm not going to pretend that I don't experience a handful of those emotions. But you know what really gets me? The last day of school. As in a son's last day of high school. Wham! Or my daughter's last day of kindergarten. Double-wham!
I said 'I love you' and before she jumped out of the van, she turned and smiled at me with the slant of her head and the squint of her eyes that said, in a sweet way, "Aw, mom!" I watched her walk fast and focused through the criss-cross of playing children. She knew exactly where she was going. She didn't look back, she didn't look lost. Gone were the 'What-am-I-in-for?' expressions of Day One. See? It's the last day. She's doing exactly what she is supposed to do--learning and gaining confidence and preparing for what comes next. I sit in the van with parents behind me waiting for me to move and I wonder, am I?
And then there is the son. If I can feel the swell of motherly love from witnessing a ten month transformation of my kindergartner, then what is it I'm feeling as I watch my son don his cap and gown? I try to reconcile it with pictures in my mind of the superman PJs he loved to wear as a two-year-old, so much that he wanted them as his Halloween costume. This cap and gown is no costume. It's the authentic rite-of-passage uniform he gets to wear, declaring to the universe, what? That's he's grown up, that's what. And that's what gets me in the back of my throat, in the pit of my stomach, and what sends tears cascading down my cheeks, as he walks, accepts the diploma and the passport to the rest of his life. Swells of love combine with bursts of pride and form waves that pick up pangs of hope. I wonder if anything I've done in the last 18+ years will make any bit of difference for good in his life.
The graduates march, and like hands on the clock, there is no turning them back. Forward, always forward.
I feel marvel and wonder, some sadness for mistakes every mother can't help making, mostly gratitude for all the sweet memories swirling.
If it's freedom a mother feels when she sends that young one off to school and returns home to her life, and whatever fills it, what does she feel when that child graduates from school. More freedom?
Not exactly, for me. By the time I take my seat in the bleachers, I realize--I'm the mother. He may leave and live his future any where and any way he wants, but I will always be his mother and I won't be 'freed' from that. That's what gets me. And I'm glad. Happy glad. Wait, I think it's joy. Yes, pinewood derby, first church dance, last piano recital, one-hundredth silly pun, --and one unsolicited 'thanks, mom' hug in his cap and gown, and I feel it. Joy.
I'm not going to pretend that I don't experience a handful of those emotions. But you know what really gets me? The last day of school. As in a son's last day of high school. Wham! Or my daughter's last day of kindergarten. Double-wham!
I said 'I love you' and before she jumped out of the van, she turned and smiled at me with the slant of her head and the squint of her eyes that said, in a sweet way, "Aw, mom!" I watched her walk fast and focused through the criss-cross of playing children. She knew exactly where she was going. She didn't look back, she didn't look lost. Gone were the 'What-am-I-in-for?' expressions of Day One. See? It's the last day. She's doing exactly what she is supposed to do--learning and gaining confidence and preparing for what comes next. I sit in the van with parents behind me waiting for me to move and I wonder, am I?
And then there is the son. If I can feel the swell of motherly love from witnessing a ten month transformation of my kindergartner, then what is it I'm feeling as I watch my son don his cap and gown? I try to reconcile it with pictures in my mind of the superman PJs he loved to wear as a two-year-old, so much that he wanted them as his Halloween costume. This cap and gown is no costume. It's the authentic rite-of-passage uniform he gets to wear, declaring to the universe, what? That's he's grown up, that's what. And that's what gets me in the back of my throat, in the pit of my stomach, and what sends tears cascading down my cheeks, as he walks, accepts the diploma and the passport to the rest of his life. Swells of love combine with bursts of pride and form waves that pick up pangs of hope. I wonder if anything I've done in the last 18+ years will make any bit of difference for good in his life.
The graduates march, and like hands on the clock, there is no turning them back. Forward, always forward.
I feel marvel and wonder, some sadness for mistakes every mother can't help making, mostly gratitude for all the sweet memories swirling.
If it's freedom a mother feels when she sends that young one off to school and returns home to her life, and whatever fills it, what does she feel when that child graduates from school. More freedom?
Not exactly, for me. By the time I take my seat in the bleachers, I realize--I'm the mother. He may leave and live his future any where and any way he wants, but I will always be his mother and I won't be 'freed' from that. That's what gets me. And I'm glad. Happy glad. Wait, I think it's joy. Yes, pinewood derby, first church dance, last piano recital, one-hundredth silly pun, --and one unsolicited 'thanks, mom' hug in his cap and gown, and I feel it. Joy.
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