Miranda: (whispering) Mommy, I have a secret to tell you.
Me: (whispering) Oh, okay. I'm ready. What is it?
Miranda: (Right in my ear...loud whisper) I'm going to HOLLYWOOD!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Carousel
"Carousel" by Floyd Albert
Photos by me
If I weren't so frenzied and frantic,
So foolish and fol-de-rol,
I'd give up this dizzying antic,
I'd get off this carousel.
But the circle is stronger than I am,
And my head is all in a whirl.
I cling to the dashing pink horses,
My vision wound up like a curl.
I will ride while the music is playing
And the bell goes on Ding, Dong, Ding.
Oh, I'll never get down from this merry-go-round
'Til I've captured the last brass ring.
When I've captured the last brass ring, boys,
And silenced the last brass bell,
Then I'll drop from my horse like pink applesauce
And be done with this carousel.
Photos by me
If I weren't so frenzied and frantic,
So foolish and fol-de-rol,
I'd give up this dizzying antic,
I'd get off this carousel.
But the circle is stronger than I am,
And my head is all in a whirl.
I cling to the dashing pink horses,
My vision wound up like a curl.
I will ride while the music is playing
And the bell goes on Ding, Dong, Ding.
Oh, I'll never get down from this merry-go-round
'Til I've captured the last brass ring.
When I've captured the last brass ring, boys,
And silenced the last brass bell,
Then I'll drop from my horse like pink applesauce
And be done with this carousel.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
on being an American
Putting politics aside and any trepidation I feel about possible upcoming legislation...
I appreciate being able to witness history.
I appreciate that in this country dreaming is encouraged not as an escape but as a means to an actually acheivable end.
My grandma told me once, we were in Nauvoo, that she believed that wherever great sacrafice has been made, an umbrella of the Spirit exists over that place forever. When you go to places like that (Nauvoo, D.C.--she lived there, cemeteries, Pearl Harbor, Ground Zero), you feel it. I always think of her, a person who is familiar with sacrafice herself, and what she said when I feel it, wherever I am in the world. I felt it in Peru at the strange, stacked gravesites of my husbands grandparents whom he never met and I never knew at all. I appreciated so much at that moment the sacrafice of my mother-in-law's father, who encouraged her and made it possible for her to come to America. His sacrafice changed my life forever.
Today I noticed that the same sort of Spirit umbrella extended over the swearing in of an African-American president. The Spirit of the sacrafices, dreams, toil, and bondage of so many people hovered over that moment. I appreciate being able to feel it.
I appreciate living in a country where prayer using the name Jesus Christ is part of a national ceremony broadcast by the media to everyone here and all over the world.
I remember when we lived in Italy, Brother Mazzolari took me to a BYU Touring Orchestra performace at a castle. Brother Mazzolari didn't speak English, except one phrase: "My wife is a witch." He loved saying that over and over. During the concert we were sitting next to each other and several other members of the Italian ward. Late in the program the Orchestra played, "The Star Spangled Banner." I felt a little hesitant making a spectacle of myself, since I was already a foreigner and out of fashion and color. But I stood. And when I stood and sang and put my hand over my heart, I felt something. I felt a strong gratitude, a strength...I felt the Spirit. No one else stood, even though there were other Americans there. It may have been uncooth. But it was a valuable experience for me. Brother Mazzolari told Fernando later to tell me how impressed he was with my patriotism and how he wished Italians had a tradition like that.
I feel blessed to be an American. People in our country volunteer to fight abroad for freedom. I feel so grateful God led people to this place, people who wanted something different.
I watched my little children dance to the John Williams number during the inaguration today. An Asian, a black man, a white man, and a woman played the number in a quartet. I watched my childrens' little bare whitish-brown legs springing across the carpet and I felt grateful that they can feel free to acheive.
I appreciate being able to witness history.
I appreciate that in this country dreaming is encouraged not as an escape but as a means to an actually acheivable end.
My grandma told me once, we were in Nauvoo, that she believed that wherever great sacrafice has been made, an umbrella of the Spirit exists over that place forever. When you go to places like that (Nauvoo, D.C.--she lived there, cemeteries, Pearl Harbor, Ground Zero), you feel it. I always think of her, a person who is familiar with sacrafice herself, and what she said when I feel it, wherever I am in the world. I felt it in Peru at the strange, stacked gravesites of my husbands grandparents whom he never met and I never knew at all. I appreciated so much at that moment the sacrafice of my mother-in-law's father, who encouraged her and made it possible for her to come to America. His sacrafice changed my life forever.
Today I noticed that the same sort of Spirit umbrella extended over the swearing in of an African-American president. The Spirit of the sacrafices, dreams, toil, and bondage of so many people hovered over that moment. I appreciate being able to feel it.
I appreciate living in a country where prayer using the name Jesus Christ is part of a national ceremony broadcast by the media to everyone here and all over the world.
I remember when we lived in Italy, Brother Mazzolari took me to a BYU Touring Orchestra performace at a castle. Brother Mazzolari didn't speak English, except one phrase: "My wife is a witch." He loved saying that over and over. During the concert we were sitting next to each other and several other members of the Italian ward. Late in the program the Orchestra played, "The Star Spangled Banner." I felt a little hesitant making a spectacle of myself, since I was already a foreigner and out of fashion and color. But I stood. And when I stood and sang and put my hand over my heart, I felt something. I felt a strong gratitude, a strength...I felt the Spirit. No one else stood, even though there were other Americans there. It may have been uncooth. But it was a valuable experience for me. Brother Mazzolari told Fernando later to tell me how impressed he was with my patriotism and how he wished Italians had a tradition like that.
I feel blessed to be an American. People in our country volunteer to fight abroad for freedom. I feel so grateful God led people to this place, people who wanted something different.
I watched my little children dance to the John Williams number during the inaguration today. An Asian, a black man, a white man, and a woman played the number in a quartet. I watched my childrens' little bare whitish-brown legs springing across the carpet and I felt grateful that they can feel free to acheive.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Conchas
One of the many many highlights of our visits to California (and the culprit for pounds of weight gain). No, it's not Sammy. It's what he's holding:
Have you ever had one of these carbohydrate mammoths? They are covered with a sugary stiff but not hard frosting, and are filled with airy, sweet goodness. Fernando calls them conchas and Miranda calls them sweetbread. Sam calls them "dat."
I've bought them at various places in Utah, each time holding onto the hope that they will fulfill all that we've come to expect. Alas, we haven't found one to match the kind we can get at the Seminario house in CA. My mother-in-law buys them at Vallarta, fresh. They're not so good stale. If anyone knows a good place in Utah to buy them, please tell us. Or don't. Any plans for healthy eating in 2009 might be obliterated.
These cute little faces are not acting. The conchas really are that good.
Have you ever had one of these carbohydrate mammoths? They are covered with a sugary stiff but not hard frosting, and are filled with airy, sweet goodness. Fernando calls them conchas and Miranda calls them sweetbread. Sam calls them "dat."
I've bought them at various places in Utah, each time holding onto the hope that they will fulfill all that we've come to expect. Alas, we haven't found one to match the kind we can get at the Seminario house in CA. My mother-in-law buys them at Vallarta, fresh. They're not so good stale. If anyone knows a good place in Utah to buy them, please tell us. Or don't. Any plans for healthy eating in 2009 might be obliterated.
These cute little faces are not acting. The conchas really are that good.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SISTA
In honor of a wonderful aunt, sister, sister-in-law, dweeb, etc...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my sister KT. Those of you who know her know how lucky I am.
Last week she took the kids to the Children's Museum downtown and they had so much fun. She even gets an A PLUS because she fed them healthy snacks and made sure they put away what they got out. She gets an A MINUS because she bought them a prize each and she didn't need to do that. But people like Aunts and Grandparents and stuff have prerogative to do those sorts of things, and it's also her birthday, so I'll reinstate the A PLUS.
We love you Katie!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my sister KT. Those of you who know her know how lucky I am.
Last week she took the kids to the Children's Museum downtown and they had so much fun. She even gets an A PLUS because she fed them healthy snacks and made sure they put away what they got out. She gets an A MINUS because she bought them a prize each and she didn't need to do that. But people like Aunts and Grandparents and stuff have prerogative to do those sorts of things, and it's also her birthday, so I'll reinstate the A PLUS.
We love you Katie!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Snowshoeing 2009
I feel some sense of continuity at the moment with this blog thing because I posted about snowshoeing last year. Nice. Our experience this year was different in bad and good ways. The bad ways: Patrick and Xiao Yu weren't there. Even Miranda said, when we got out of the car, "This is the place we went last year! Remember Patrick carried me on his back?!" You were missed you guys! And Fernando was at work and couldn't go. Another major loss. And sometimes Miranda's face looked like this and she let her whole body go limp and said, "Carry me!!!"
But let's cut to the good. She was able to use snowshoes this year! And she did great! And even though we went right during naptime, as soon as I started singing "Into the Woods" and she decided to be Little Red, her listlessness evaporated and she sprung through the snow as fast as the rest of us.
Another bad I forgot about: Mom had to go slow because of her ankle-foot-thing-residue that she still deals with from her YW Corn Maze Activity gone wrong. Good: She didn't mind going slower with the kids :).
Katie was the most spry snowshoer, although she stopped to make a snowbeau for herself. Miranda liked him too. He was VERY cute, if a little "cold". Get it? Had to use the pun there. Forgive.
Sammy's got a great workout as you can see.
Pa is an excellent packhorse. Sam's hat is brought to you by Great Grandma Betty's mad knitting skills.
Do not eat snow or you will turn out like this!!!
Or this!
Sammy did not like being carried while everyone else was free to tromp about in the snow and scoop up snow to munch on whenever fancy struck. So we let him walk all the way back and he did great and loved it. He doesn't weigh enough to need the snowshoes. Not that I do.
It was a lovely outing and worth all the layers we all put on. I wish I were the sort of mom who just woke up in the morning every Tuesday, put her toddlers in the car and drove up Big Cottonwood Canyon, and Snowshoed for 2 hours without an entire team of support for my endeavor. As justification and a comfort to myself it probably wouldn't be safe for us to go up there alone. But still, it would be fun. Maybe when they're teenagers.
But let's cut to the good. She was able to use snowshoes this year! And she did great! And even though we went right during naptime, as soon as I started singing "Into the Woods" and she decided to be Little Red, her listlessness evaporated and she sprung through the snow as fast as the rest of us.
Another bad I forgot about: Mom had to go slow because of her ankle-foot-thing-residue that she still deals with from her YW Corn Maze Activity gone wrong. Good: She didn't mind going slower with the kids :).
Katie was the most spry snowshoer, although she stopped to make a snowbeau for herself. Miranda liked him too. He was VERY cute, if a little "cold". Get it? Had to use the pun there. Forgive.
Sammy's got a great workout as you can see.
Pa is an excellent packhorse. Sam's hat is brought to you by Great Grandma Betty's mad knitting skills.
Do not eat snow or you will turn out like this!!!
Or this!
Sammy did not like being carried while everyone else was free to tromp about in the snow and scoop up snow to munch on whenever fancy struck. So we let him walk all the way back and he did great and loved it. He doesn't weigh enough to need the snowshoes. Not that I do.
It was a lovely outing and worth all the layers we all put on. I wish I were the sort of mom who just woke up in the morning every Tuesday, put her toddlers in the car and drove up Big Cottonwood Canyon, and Snowshoed for 2 hours without an entire team of support for my endeavor. As justification and a comfort to myself it probably wouldn't be safe for us to go up there alone. But still, it would be fun. Maybe when they're teenagers.
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