November 10

- Ethan's cooking. OM Gosh.

- Digital photography. Remember the days of film?

- iTunes. Can I just say brilliant?

November 9

- Music. The voice of the soul. I love so many different kinds (except country-eww); from Josh Groban, to Usher, Nancy Griffith, One Republic, The Fray, Muse, Kenneth Cope, MoTab, Mozart, Basia, BTO, Eagles, Michael (*sniff*), Soundtracks, Big Band, Hansen, Rihanna, Avril, Kelly Clarkson, Queen, Los Lonely Boys, Mannheim Steamroller, acustic guitar, REO Speedwagon, The Chieftans, Celtic, I could go on and on. If I'd had the voice, I would have been a rock star.

- The written word. What a gift to be able to read. Thank you my elementary school teachers. I'm actually a pretty good reader. Books I love? "The Book of John" read aloud (try it some time, very cool); Believing Christ (changed my life, thanks Steve); The Chronicles of Prydain, the journey we all take, from assistant pig keeper to high king; and any book I'm reading at the time. I'm also a member of the Read the End Then Go Back and Read the Rest Club (RTETGBARTR) Can't stand the suspense, so I find out the ending then I can relax and enjoy the book.

- Text. Blog. Email. Voice mail. So efficient and convenient.

November 8

- Bishop Tipton. Tho sometimes he makes me nuts, I really love the guy and am grateful I have this chance to work with him in my calling. I had a stewardship interview today and we had a nice communication moment.

- When the Lord sees fit to let His Spirit into a lesson, like today. It's nice not to teach on your own.

- The young women in my ward. They are some of the finest to be found.

For real?

November 7

- Colors. Every color we mortals come up with was already created in nature. I love all the shades of green, the colors of fall, the blends of sunsets, coral reefs, spring wild flowers, robin eggs, tan horses, black cows, little white dogs, you get the picture.

- Speaking of little white dogs, I'm thankful Gus isn't gross, stupid, annoying, or poorly behaved. If I have to have a dog, I'm glad it's him.

- Creativity. I love creating things. I guess I'm like my Father in that way. ;-)

The Voice of Reason

So I'm having a conversation with the Spouse over a Gandolfo's sandwich.

"I'm having such a hard time with this book thingy." I lament.

"Why's that?" He asks.

"Well, I just don't know if it's what I'm supposed to be doing. I'm not sure I'm interpreting the signals right. Is this really what Heavenly Father wants me to do right now? I'm having such a hard time with my confidence level."

"Do you like writing?"

"I don't know. It's such hard work and I wonder if I'm wasting my time doing something I shouldn't be doing."

"Are you anxiously engaged in a good cause? Are you writing something that is uplifting?"

"Well...yes. But I feel guilty sitting at my desk all day just writing."

"Why?"

"'Cause I think I should be doing something else, something more productive. Doesn't it bother you when I sit at the computer for hours?" (And trust me when I say hours. I can sit down to write, and five hours later 'come to.')

"No."

"For real."

"Yeah."

"Do you like writing?"

"Well, I guess."

"Then write. Quit thinking it do death." (The Flake is laughing her rear off right now as she reads this, I promise.)

"Uh...but..I...um."

"So how's your sandwich?" In Spouse's mind, we're done, the problem has been addressed, and it's time to move on.

Women are weird. We simmer, stew, and massage issues to death. I proudly thought of myself as one who was above this wasteful behavior. Ha! "Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall." (Prov 16:18)

Bottom line here? Just write the damn book.

So I am, and guess what? I'm enjoying myself. I'm also finding that I'm rusty. "Writers write," and I haven't been, so the words don't come as easily as they did at the end of The Mourning Run. I've learned a lesson already.

Spouse is a man of few words, and his attention span is short (ADD poster child), so he cuts to the chase: "Then write."

So I am.

November 6

- This one is probably the most important of all the gratitude entries I'll make this month, and for that reason I had to give it some serious thought and timing before I randomly threw it out there with trivial thankful thingys, like four-wheelers and Halloween candy.

I speak of the Savior, Jesus Christ, who takes precedence above all other earthly things I am thankful for. My feelings run deep and tender for the Savior. He is the Master of my heart, the Rescuer of my soul, and the Constant in my life. The greatest gift I have is my testimony of Him - of His reality and mission. He is truth, love, light, motivation, direction, strength, safety, inspiration, and my Guide back to my Father in Heaven.

I believe completely that He actually did all He claims to have done; and that He will do all the things He promises to do in the future. His word is bond, certain, and absolute.

If there are doubts in my mind as to His reality, I am not aware of them, but I hope the Spirit will point them out to me so I can rid myself of them completely.

My actions do not jive with the perfect picture of a disciple of Jesus Christ. I am flawed and messed up. But I know I am saved because of the power of Christ. And because I have accepted His name, and do my best - which is never good enough - He will make up the difference and carry me home.

Pitiful, fallen me, will be exhalted because of the Savior and His Atonement.

So I am thankful for the Lord, Jesus Christ. Thankful, indebted, amazed, humbled, awed, and grateful - so very grateful I know who He is, and that I have aligned myself with Him.

- Ditto

- Ditto

You Do What You Have To

6:20 am - unhappily wake up; get dressed in some ugly morning ensemble, usually sans a bra; fix breakfast for Lola.

6:45 - shove hat over horrible morning hair; make sure I have my phone with me in case car breaks down and I am discovered with ugly morning ensemble and no bra; wrap in a blanket; get in cold car and ride along for 30 minutes as Lola drives to school.

7:20 - drop off kid, switch to driver's seat, turn off rapping weird teenager music, head to Gas-n-Go for a drink (yes, at 7:30 in the morning. So what of it?), then drive 30 minutes to get back home.

7:50 - drop by the neighbors and pick up eggs (most mornings).

7:55ish - return to the homestead.

THE UPSIDE to this whole morning routine is that Lola and I get time to chat, if we're not irritated with each other over some dumb thing.

THIS MORNING she told me that she has decided to pursue a career as a theatre teacher. She is looking into appropriate colleges and possible internships to help her with this path.

SO AS MUCH AS I WOULD LIKE to stay in my comfortable, warm bed at 6:20 in the morning and not have to drive to Provo, there are some payoffs. (The chatting - not the fountain drink.)

November 5

- I love where I live. It's beautiful here. I can see the whole valley.

- I love my house and am so grateful we can live here.

- I love the Wasatch Front mountain range. Never boring. Always a surprise.

Broken

- the ice maker.

- the warming drawer.

- the dishwasher.

- the oven door.

- the microwave.

- garbage disposal switch.

- closet handle in Lola's room.

- light fixture in bedroom downstairs.

- light in bathroom downstairs.

- hook falling out of drywall in Lola's room.

- light fixture at the top of the stairs.

and I'm sure I've forgotten some things.

Also, why do I cry every time I watch Extreme Home Makeover?

Logo-Mojo

Looking for a unique gift? Want to make a statement on your own wall? Visit my Megan's shop and see what awaits you!

The above is my favorite scrip (John 15:5). She worked her magic and made it into a thing to behold.

Hen Scratch: frilly, fringe, & feelings

WE HAVE A NEW MAYOR up here at The Ridge. Of course there was only one guy running for mayor, so the race was not a close one.

LET IT BE SAID HERE that shopping for little girls is way fun. Shopping for little boys is very utilitarian and not pink or frilly - at least it shouldn't be. I'm hoping Whitney and Caitlyn are cooking little girls. I will still adore little baby boys, but I would have more fun shopping for little baby girls.

WHY DO WE HAVE SO MANY DANG cars parked in our driveway? It looks like we're running a used car lot. There's Lola's car, Patty (finally she named her); Ramona - who is working for Rockwell Catering at present; Kee-Kee the KIA, who is available to serve whoever needs her at the moment; and Little Red, the Ingramobile. Mara gets the garage cause she's matronly and thinks she deserves to be pampered.

THE WEIRD THING IS, most of the vehicles are green. Patty, Ramona, Kee-Kee, and Mara. (Little Red is the only exception 'cause she is, well, red.) We didn't plan it that way, it just turned out that way. So we look like a Green Only used car lot. And none of them are worth much. If we parked them on the lawn, you might think we live in Hawaii.

SOME NEIGHBORS DOWN THE STREET put together an amazing haunted house in their garage for Halloween. It was run by a bunch of kids, so I'm thinking it was a youth group project (just see if I could get that past my ultra-conservative bishop).

IT WAS REALLY QUITE IMPRESSIVE. I want to volunteer next year and come in my witch costume. I really feel I would be an asset to the project. I make one great witch. If you know me, that's not hard to believe.

I HAVE BECOME A Fringe fan. I have been waiting impatiently for the latest episode to air on hulu.com. It is late, and the reason, I am guessing, is baseball. Dumb baseball. Why does baseball have to get in the way of Olivia, Peter, Astrid, and Walter? Really irritating. The world as we know it it ending and we have to watch baseball?

THE LAVENDER BUSHES NEED to be trimmed back for the winter. Anyone want to come and help? I promise you'll smell really good when you're done.

IN CLOSING, HOW DO you feel about the fact that when Halloween ends, Christmas advertising begins and Thanksgiving is glossed over? What does that tell you about just Who is in charge of commercialization? I'm related to four Mayflower passengers (did you feel the oozing pride and vanity in my typing just then?). So I'm a Thanksgiving supporter. Thank you, President Lincoln.

-Let's all put the "thanks" back in Thanksgiving: post three a day-

HEN IN THE HILLS

✍

November 4

- I love four-wheelers. Love love love them.

- My iPhone. "The power if the sun in the palm of my hand." (Name that movie.)

- This amazing, glorious, miraculous, beautiful, earth. How I love her.

So What of It?

(The only pretty thing about this blog entry - flowers from Kelly after my surgery.

Thank you, Kelly.)

The Flake is accusing me of being down in the dumps. She calls it a "blue funk."

So what of it?

I'm too intimidated and scared to write another book.

So what of it?

I haven't been getting up in the morning since surgery on Stupid Knee to read my scriptures.

So what of it?

I know that if I did get up in the morning and read I would feel more guilty than I already do about not working on the book.

So what of it?

I feel like a loser.

So what of it?

Sometimes I'm a rotten mother.

So what of it?

Can I just not care about anything? Or anyone? Can I just pretend I never "felt" like I was supposed to write another book anyway? Can I just assume that The Mourning Run WAS the one book I was to write in my lifetime and now I'm done? Can I ignore the whole writing thing? I'm not all that hot at it anyway. Can I just move on and spray paint something? Why do I seem to think the women of the church need me to write something for them? What can I have to say that would make a hill of beans of difference? And even if I did, who the heck would publish it anyway?

So why in the world do I keep feeling like I need to write? Is it ego? Pride?

Whatever it is I wish it would leave me alone.

Do you have any idea how much confidence it takes to sit down day after day, week after month after year, and write a book? Do you know how many times you edit what you've written? Do you realize that you have to feel qualified and self-assured to believe you can pull off something like that? HUH?

As you read this entry you have probably picked out 50 grammatical errors so far. What business do I have writing a whole dang book? The last one I wrote, I wrote for Traci because I had committed to her - the next one would mean a commitment to myself based on what? A FEELING? P-L-E-A-S-E-E-E-E.

Why me?

I must be making all this up. The imaginings of a deranged mind. That must be it.

Too many children. To many females around me. Too much Diet Dr.

I think I'll just accept the fact I'm making this up.

So what of it?

Think About It

Sure, hit a deer with your car and it’s an accident, but hit a hitchhiker and all of a sudden it’s “manslaughter”.

- Mark, @ shoebox blog

November 3

- Leftovers

- Grandsons who share their Halloween candy

- Diet Dr.

(Yes, today it's all about food)

November 2

- Fall sunshine on the south windows.

- Anti-inflammatory medications.

- The husband.

November 1

Thank you, Sue Witt.

It's November, and I had forgot.

Until I saw Sue's blog entry.

That it's the month of daily thankfuls.

Each day, on this blog, I will post three things I am thankful for - never duplicating.

I invite you to do the same.

For today:

- All manner of heat: fires, heaters, forced air, car heaters, seat heaters. It's all good.

- Weekly garbage pick up. I love seeing the junk go away.

- That we figured out a new way to park cars in our driveway so they all fit.

Chicken of the Month: The Sister Suffragette Chicken

on break