Happy Halloween!

I love Halloween! I love the spirit of community.
I've shared this story before but want to share it on a public level. When my father was young he lived in the country so when they went trick-or-treating, my grandmother would make he and his siblings take apples to each house they went to, to 'exchange' because no one came out to their farm house and she didn't think that was fair. Of course my dad and Uncles didn't like this and one year convinced my grandmother to let them trick-or-treat with out the apples. Well one house they went to asked them, "where's my apple?"
I feel this way too! As much as I love to go with my husband and kids trick-or-treating, I feel it my privilege to stay home and hand out candy-even if we only get 10 kids. I wish we got more kids to our street but I don't think many pass out candy here on the block so why should they come (or could it be the sex offender down the street?) Any way, it Halloween and I have the chance to share what I have to any one who braves the block. I'll be waiting, if you want some yummy candy (Nerds and M&M's are our favorites!) and spider rings!

Meet Bob Sturgiss

Bob Sturgiss is one of my neighbors. He and his wife, Rita are the original owners of their home which must have been built around 1976 when my home was built. I imagine they payed around the cost of an Accord for their home then. Every morning Bob takes a walk through the neighborhood wearing his turquoise polo, a sensible hat to keep off the ever present sun, and a set of head phones. Sometimes in the winter he wears more layers but the turquoise color shows through. I wonder what he is listening to. Is it NPR, golden oldies or does he jam out in his head to rock n' roll? Sometimes we chat when he walkes by and sees me fighting a losing battle with my weeds. His yard is imaculate and he works hard to keep it so. If I ever get past fighting weeds, I'll hope to have a BHG (Better Homes & Gardens) yard like his.
I can almost tell time by his morning walk. If he passes my house and I'm not finished with my workout, (or weed pulling) I'm going to get behind in my day. Bob retired from the Military some years ago and is still active and sharp. Its a nice feeling to have him in our neighborhood, kind of 'Leave it to Beaver' like. My family and I have been here three years now and hope to be great neighbors like Bob & Rita.

At the Church I belong to, there are a group of women who work out twice a week in the gym. Our fearless 'jazzercise' instructor Holly Ashby is very talented and is a great dancer! I joked with her a while ago that we should learn "Thriller" for our October workouts and she delivered! Yesterday she started teaching us the beginning of the dance. I've always wanted to do this with my own family but my husbands not to keen on the idea, go figure! Did you know the world record for dancing the "Thriller"is held in England for 3,738 dancers? I wonder if there is a record for the most Mesa Mormon Moms at one time? Anyone care to join us? Its great clean fun and good exercise.

Meet Alice Roston

New Week. New Spotlight.
I'd love for you to meet Alice, I'd love to meet her myself but we can't 'cause she's dead. I came across her name while doing some family history work (a.k.a the Temple) and all the info there is about her is that her name is Alice Roston and she was born abt. 1816. It made my heart ache for her. The idea that she lived and died with no more than an 'about 1816' date is haunting. If she knew how to read and write, could she afford a journal to record her life. Wasn't there even a family Bible with christening dates, marrages, children, etc. No diary, letters, blog, or e-mail to give us a glimpse into her life and feelings. Did she enjoy the accomplished feeling of doing dishes like I do, or did she hate the chore because the wooden utensils gave her splinters and the well for water was far from her wash bucket? Did she fall in love, marry and have 12 babies? Did any of her babies survive?
When I sprawl out on my bed at night and write in my journal, I sometimes wonder what my granddaughter may think of mothering in the 21st century. In the back of my mind I think I'm always writing with the idea that it will be read by someone someday. What could it have been like for Alice? We may never know. Poor Alice. It inspires me to keep better records of my life. I'm just vain enough to want my existence to mean something and to be remembered, amd just hopefull enough to think it might help someone in the future.

It's a matter of Interest!

There are two kinds of people in this world, they say. Those who pay interest and those who earn interest. As the daughter of a 'banker' (See:FLB) I was taught to earn interest, but here I am a half life later and life isn't as accommodating. When My husband and I discuss my earning potential, we agree that in 5 years when our youngest is in school, there is a great possibility, but I am a committed stay at home Mom and will wait till then.
So in my mind, as I compute 5 years at such and such interest for what ever emergencies we haven't saved for or can't cover, it can be a depressing thought. But then again... I have four wonderful children whom I would pay anything to spend time with. They are the real interests in my life and the dividend from the foundation I build will really exceed the cost. If you ask my Dad if he is disappointed in me, he would say No! If I learned anything from my dad, I learned I was the real interest! I'm going to teach my children the same lesson.

Meet Doddie!

Every morning while walking back from my children's bus stop I meet Doddie strolling from the other direction. She is a 'lunch lady' at another school in my neighborhood. She has a 'special mind', as I explained to my kids, and loves to stop and wave and coo at my 9 month old. As she bends over to tickle my baby, I can see the grey roots showing through her dark brown dye, and when we talk, I notice that she has several teeth missing, either because she never learned proper teeth hygiene or can't afford proper dental care. But she is beautiful in spite of all this.
Every morning she gives me my own personal weather forcast, "It's going to be 89' at 4:00 today but its 73' now". Once, she quoted the bible to point out the glory of God in the sunrise through the clouds. She also gives me other random facts like "its world smile day" or today is "skeptic" day (you don't believe me?). She asks what I did for the weekend and then tells me about the latest movie she saw. She recommends 'City of Ember'.
One afternoon I saw her waiting for the city bus and offered to give her a ride instead. I found out that she lives in a home built by Habitat for Humanity and its a darling little home just perfect for her.
As we part our ways she always tells me "God Bless You" and you know what, I feel blessed. I am blessed to have what I have and know what I know and especially lucky to have such a special friend like Doddy. So if your out and about, and you see a short, older woman in a red jacket (red is her favorite) with dark hair and a pleasant smile, stop and introduce yourself. You will have the chance to meet a truly beautiful person, and you will feel blessed because of it.

A Walk in Brooklyn for $1.50

Happy October! I love the fall, but living in the southwest doesn't always full fill my need for crisp air, changing colors and the smell of a fire in someones fireplace.
So October makes me long for my years in Brooklyn and my visits back which coincidentally have all happened in October.
I fell in love with Brooklyn despite the struggles of living there. And there were struggles! My husband and I moved there for his Graduate school. We had one child, and one on the way. Money was tight, but we made it work, sort of. At one particular tight point I was getting ready to attend a Woman's get together(Relief Society) sponsored by my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday-Saints . My husband was at school and I needed the friendship and lift only Relief Society could bring. I had bundled my young son and my self against the cold and prepared to leave our 600sqft apartment when I realized I did not have the $1.50 I needed to take the subway to my Church building. I looked in pockets, couch cushions,and my wallet (which I knew had nothing). Zip-Zilch! I think the reality of being poor college students hit me at that point and I sat down on the couch and sobbed! Not just a tear for my own pitiful situation but flat out wailing! (Pregnancy Hormones?-YES!) I probably scared my young son who asked, 'why mommy cry?' How could I tell him I'd willing put myself in a situation that I knew would be tight so my husband could get the degree he needed and live in a city we wanted to be in, but was now feeling sorry for my self? I think I allowed myself to wail for a few minutes and then, cleaning my face off as best I could, I walked the distance to the Church with my son in his stroller and my pregnant belly pushing at the buttons of my coat.
Now I laugh at that memory. I know people who walk farther than that, willing. And some suffer more but still seem to maintain a cheerful disposition. The difference here was my own pitiful attitude. Looking back now, I remember the smells, the crisp air and the bright moon that night, and I would pay much more than a $1.50 to be able to take that walk in Brooklyn.