Trailers for Sale or Rent

Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but two hours of pushin' broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road

Last evening at the Harvest Church Fourth of July "Celebrate Freedom" event, we sat on the bottom row of some partially-wet bleachers, huddled together for warmth, and listened to an up-and-coming country band sing, among other tunes, Roger Miller's "King of the Road." And suddenly, I was four years old again. I was in the backseat of my parents' smoke-filled car, huddled together with my little brother for warmth, listening to "King of the Road" on the radio as my mom drove my dad to work early in the winter morning. They had only one vehicle, so if she needed transportation during the day, driving Daddy to work was the only option. Funny how just one song can bring back the sights, sounds, and smells of a time so very long ago.

This caused me to reflect on the memories we have made for our children over the years and those we continue to make today. I was reminded of some Independence Days gone by. I remember the year Isaiah was only 2-1/2 months old. My mother had taken our two older kids along with their cousins to Seaside, OR for the holiday, so we took Isaiah to a fireworks display in Portland. It felt like a war zone! People were setting off firecrackers all around us. I sat on the ground cradling Isaiah in my arms to protect him from the noise and the smoke. Not the most pleasant memory, but a memory nonetheless. A few years later, my mother again took the older kids (this time, including Isaiah) to the beach, but she wouldn't take 3-year-old Eli (sad) because he was not yet out of diapers. We felt bad for him, so we wanted to make the day special. Living in Mt. Vernon, WA by then, we took Eli to Seattle to a Fourth of July carnival and celebration on the waterfront. I remember a lovely day. In the afternoon, I lay on a blanket and read a book while Eli and his dad played on the playground. The weather was just about perfect. We ate delicious food and eventually watched the fireworks, much to Eli's amazement.

Yesterday, we created yet another memory. We were small in number. Luke had to work. Shulamith was celebrating the holiday with friends on the Oregon coast. Isaiah and Eli were both hangin' out with their respective friends. THANK GOODNESS FOR SETH! As the three of us lay on our backs on our blanket and experienced in sight and sound the outstanding display of fireworks, I thanked Heavenly Father for family, for memories, for the future, for life.

At the climax of the fireworks display, Seth, with all the passion he could muster, exclaimed, "Mom, it's so beautiful! I just love the Fourth of July."

I think he will remember yesterday. If not the glorious fireworks display, surely he will remember sitting arm in arm with Mom, swaying back and forth, singing along with the band: "Trailers for sale or rent. Rooms to let, fifty cents..." as she returned to her childhood.

Boredom or Lack of Creativity

Those of you who follow this blog probably noticed a change in design today. This is the result of boredom combined with an utter lack of creativity on my part. When I awoke this morning, staring at the list I made last night of 15 things I need to accomplish today, I decided to indulge myself by lying in bed and reading the latest entries in the blogs I routinely follow. It's like when I have 5,000,000 papers to grade and I, instead, decide to clean my house. Except reading blogs is MUCH more fun than cleaning my house, so this is even better! Ah, the joy of procrastination.

As I skimmed through the blogs of several friends, I began to compare (this is never good) my blog design to those I was reading. Bad idea. When we compare ourselves to others in any capacity, the result is never positive. The truth is that while I have a small number of talents and abilities, creating beautiful things is certainly not one of them. I know people who have what I call "The Beauty Touch." It's like "The Midas Touch," only instead of things turning to gold, everything they touch turns to beautiful.

I don't have that touch. In fact, on those occasions when I've tried to create something aesthetically pleasing, the result has been disastrous. Consequently, I don't try very often. I do love to write, however, and this blog has provided me a much-needed opportunity to do just that. I wish I could make its design beautiful like so many of the others I look at, but alas, I have no idea how. So instead, I'll have to settle for a new template which I selected this morning.

Do you like it? Or is the other one better? I'm just not good at this, so I definitely need input.

Paradise

What is paradise?

I suppose its definition changes from person to person, from time to time, from situation to situation, and sometimes even from moment to moment.

Today, I sit at the Paradise Cafe in Cottonwood Heights, Utah, a suburb of Salt Lake City where Shulamith's new apartment is located. What could be more paradisaical than sitting across from my daughter in a booth at the Paradise Cafe, each of us with our laptops plugged in, typing away, listening to Dixie Chicks, eating cookies, and sipping Diet Coke? Absolutely nothing.

We are here because she has yet to get the internet set up at her new apartment; both she and her roommate Nicassia have been too busy to call. This is fun, though, a new experience for us. And I am thoroughly enjoying it. It costs us nothing more than the price of the cookies and Diet Coke, so it's much cheaper than when we're in a mall. (Oh, don't worry...we have, of course, been to the mall.) But for now, here we are, chillin' to the music, catching up on Facebook, email, and this blog.

It's been a fun three days filled with our typical regime of shopping, movies (we cried our eyes out at "My Sister's Keeper"), and fattening food. And this time, we added longboarding. She was impressed by my progress from last month when I was here, but she's still much better than I am. So fun.

Early tomorrow morning, a friend from Billings will pick me up, and we will drive the nine hours home. I can already begin to feel the melancholy that envelopes me every time I have to say goodbye. But you already know all about that, so I won't elaborate.

For now, let's simply enjoy the moment. Paradise.

Some for a Season

A friend once told me that some people come into our lives for a second, others for a season, and others for a lifetime. I think she's right. And in some cases, that's a little sad. The people we meet and know for only a "second" may not make a huge difference, but the "season" people often do. I wonder if they are sent to us just at the time we most need them, and then for whatever reason, they move on. I feel that way about many of the people from our former ward here in Billings. When we moved here five years ago, we knew not a single person in the entire state of Montana. I am extremely social, an extrovert with a capital "E." Leaving my friends in Washington after eleven years wasn't easy. Many were "season" friends; a few were "lifetime" friends. Neither group was easy to say goodbye to. To make matters worse, Shulamith left for her first year of college just five days after we arrived in Billings. And to make matters worse still, we were stuck living in a college dorm for four months because our house in Washington took its own sweet time getting sold.

Our salvation was the Metra Ward. They became our family here in Montana. A couple people turned out to be "lifetime" friends for me, but most were "season" friends, sent to us to help our family adjust to a brand new life in a brand new state. In January of this year, the ward boundaries in our stake were totally reorganized, and the Metra Ward was no more. Members of the ward were dispersed into five different wards. This was both shocking and difficult for many of us, including me. I was Relief Society President at the time, and I remember sending an email out to all the sisters saying things like, "It will be okay. It's not like we're all moving. We can still see each other." For the most part, though, we don't. It was a season, and now it has passed, but I will be eternally grateful for so many of those Metra Ward folks who provided a safe and welcoming place for our children and us to land when we first came to Montana.

When I think of the "season" people in our lives, I am reminded of a poem I once read. It was posted on a dorm room door during the last month my freshman year of college. Whose door? I haven't a clue, but it said this: "Your friends say to keep in touch, but you know you won't. Your teachers say come back and see them, but you know you won't. Maybe one day it won't matter, but right now, it hurts a little."

With today's technology, it's certainly easier than it once was to keep in touch with the people who pass through our lives. We have cell phones, email, Facebook, blogging, yet establishing and maintaining "lifetime" friends still takes time, effort, and energy. It's worth it, yes, but that doesn't make it easy, especially when distance separates us. I have two such friends who live 600 and 700 miles, respectively, away from me. We exchange daily emails (or close to daily) in order to keep the connection alive and strong. I cherish both these friends more than I can say.

Some for a second, others for a season, others for a lifetime.

Clearance Dog

Today, Seth made an astute observation:

He said, "If Chloe were for sale in a store, she would be on clearance. She would be on the table that says, 'take an additional 75% off the already marked-down price.' She's definitely a clearance dog."

(To understand what causes Seth to make this observation, you might want to read the May 8th entry of this blog entitled "Dog Years.")

Wolf or Bear?

Wolf or Bear? That is the dilemma. As I explained in an earlier blog entry, I am a terrible Cub Scout mom, so terrible that I really had no idea which day camp schedule Seth should follow, Wolf or Bear. I trusted the leaders to tell us when to go, and I didn't give it much thought beyond that. My bad.

Now if it were I, I would definitely choose to be a Bear. After all, bears get to hibernate for months out of the year, and what could be more amazing than months of uninterrupted sleep? Then they get to wake up and eat a bunch. Heaven. Do wolves hibernate too? I have no idea, but whatever. I KNOW bears do. Also, wolves remind me of Jacob, and I am most definitely on "Team Edward." (Once again, if you don't get the Twilight allusions, you simply MUST read the books). So yeah, I'd choose to be a bear.

And Seth was technically registered in a Bear den at camp. However, I was given the Wolf camp schedule to follow. Ack! So Seth missed out on yesterday morning's activities with his Bear den because the Wolf schedule called for him to arrive at noon, and that's when I took him. Even worse, he couldn't participate in the Wolf skits at last night's campfire because he isn't in a Wolf den, and his Bear den had already gone home. Their campfire is tonight. That means we have to go back tonight, so he can be in the Bear skit. Are you sufficiently confused yet? Me too!

Have I mentioned how much I dislike Cub Scouts? I can't make this right for Seth no matter what I do because he missed those activities yesterday morning. Seriously, I want to be a bear and go into hibernation. Today.

Road Trip

So here's the thing. I don't like road trips. I like airplanes. I get tired, bored, and irritable when I have to be in a car for a long time. As I said, I really like airplanes. Why then did I decide to accompany Luke on a car trip all the way from Billings over to Portland and Seattle and to bring Seth with me? That is a very good question. It all started when Luke mentioned that he would like to visit both his grandmas before leaving for Indiana this fall. His original plan was to drive his little car over to the Pacific Northwest by himself. He planned to drive straight through to Portland (14 hours) in one day without stopping. Um...yeah...that made me nervous. I suggested that he (1) stop overnight in a motel and (2) take my van because "I have absolutely nothing to do that week anyway." His reply, "Well, if you have absolutely nothing to do, why don't you come with me?"

Hmmm. No reason, really. So I decided to go, and it seemed like a good idea to bring Seth, so he could visit his grandmas too.

As road trips go, it wasn't bad, but seriously, I am just NOT a long-distance driver. Or passenger, for that matter. Luke drove the majority of the trip, and still, I can't say I enjoyed the experience. We had only one incident that would qualify as eventful: on our way back late Friday night, I suddenly looked up and saw a deer standing in the middle of the road. Luke hadn't seen it, but at my urging, he swerved the car to the left, nicking the deer on the right side of the van. It could have been so much worse. Other than that, it was just lots and lots of miles to travel, occasional stops for food and bathroom breaks, as well as stops at various Redbox stations to rent and return movies to keep Seth entertained.

Despite the tedious car trip, we had many fun experiences once we arrived in Oregon. Most notably, we took Seth to the zoo on a glorious rainy day and saw many cool animals. Seth is the perfect age to appreciate and enjoy everything about the zoo. Also, Luke went to Salem to visit his final mission companion who is now serving there. We also spent half a day at a wonderful outlet mall in Woodburn which had a Coach store! And best of all, I got to spend most of a morning visiting my brother at his work. I love it when I get to spend time with him.

Luke went to Washington for part of the week to visit friends and relatives there. He spent one day with a college friend milking goats on an organic farm in Raymond. Seth and I rode Amtrak from Portland to Everett to meet Luke and begin our travel home. It was Seth's first train ride, so that was fun as well.

All in all, it was a satisfying trip. Next time, though, I'll definitely be flying.