Saturday, November 21, 2009
For the past 30 years he’s:
• gotten up at 5:30 every single morning.
• only ever worn white shirts for ‘churching’. It’s like his uniform. Suit and tie.
• been short tempered, it’s true. But he never holds grudges.
• been the first to say “I’m sorry” even if it really wasn’t his fault.
• changed the oil in my car every 3,000 miles. Like clock work.
• been good with money. Shocker, I know. Less widely known: he’s very generous, too.
• remained fiercely loyal. Mac is the only true computer, and he’s the only man I know (or woman for that matter) who has patronized the same hairdresser for the last 20 years.
• a man who has never forgotten a Valentine’s day, Birthday or Anniversary.
• a good and supportive father and an amazing Grandpa.
• bailed me out and stood by me in good times and bad.
• been my rock.
Still my guy. After 30 years.
Love you, ld. Kissee, kissee.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
My kids will recognize this story. I used to quote it fairly often while they were growing up. It supposedly originated from Winston Churchill.
One recalls the words of the late Dean LeBaron Russell Briggs of Harvard when a student told him that he had not finished an assignment because he was not feeling very well. The Dean replied, “I think that in time you may perhaps find that most of the work of the world is done by people who aren’t feeling very well.”
and in the same vein, this:
When I hear someone say they can’t serve because they don’t feel well, I remember a stake I once visited in Mexico. The stake president spoke about a lesson he learned from his wife. He said that a week before the conference, he had scheduled some home teaching visits but came home from work and didn’t feel well. He told his wife that he guessed he wouldn’t go home teaching because he was sick. Her reply to him was, “Go sick!” And he went.
Burton Howard, “Commitment,” Ensign, May 1996, 27
Guess I'll be visiting teaching today after all.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
For weeks now I have been hearing this tap tap tapping coming from what sounds like my bedroom wall. I thought it might be the neighbors fixing the fence. Could not figure it out. Every morning , this hammering sound. Last week, Kenz happened to be by the side of the house and reported ,“There’s a bunch of birds, hanging around, looks like they’re pecking at the foundation of the house.”
Oh. No. More birds. She reminded me of the last time we had a run in with birds. Some years back, 3 birds came in the house through the dryer vent. Two flew out rather easily when we opened the front door, but the other hung out in the downstairs bookshelves. It was quite the ordeal trying to shoo him out, particularly since my girls are big wimps. They covered their heads with blankets and crept up fearfully toward the bird and then screamed wildly and flailed about every time the bird so much as twitched. Course, I wasn’t much braver. I just mainly barked instructions and came up with bird shooing strategies. We were mercifully helped out by two of my piano students who could barely contain their excitement. Took most of their piano lesson to get Bird #2 out. Eventually, pesky bird #3 found himself locked in the computer room where he strangled himself in the blinds. But not before he pooped all over ld’s computer. After that, ld put a screen over the dryer vent.
So now, I am trying not to overreact, even though birds are ancestors of dinosaurs, don’tcha know? And they are trying to get me, I am sure of it. This morning I snuck out early and saw for myself. They are pecking at the attic vent above my bedroom. Mr. Google says it’s fairly common for birds to build nests there.
I don’t want to kill the little birdies, as a prophet has spoken out against that, * but I am off to Walmart to buy a super soaker. I am on the case.
*(Spencer W. Kimball, Ensign, May 1978, pp. 47–48).