Monday, January 31, 2011

Savory Moment #4

I get the post-Christmas blues pretty bad. I love the holidays so much that I don't get the blues before, but after, when all the fun is packed away and I've shopped the sales and bought more lights for next year (yahoo!!), I feel sad. It's cold, and being cold makes me tired. And it's dark, and the sun doesn't shine for days at a time.

The other day I was moping around the house, and I suddenly wished for flowers. Lots of flowers, growing in my garden and filling my yard with colorful glory. I considered the plastic flowers I've seen at the dollar store--I could buy a bunch of those and poke them in the ground, just to help me make it until spring when I can plant...


Guess what I did last fall? I planted HUNDREDS of bulbs in my garden!! I just remembered! I had forgotten all about those little sleeping bunches of JOY! Tulips, daffodils, hyacinths (my very, very favorite!!) and crocus.

When I remembered those bulbs in my garden, just waiting until spring to BURST out of the winter mud, I was SO HAPPY!! I had planned ahead for the winter blues, and then I forgot all about it. Now I am excited about my bulbs, and I'm excited for my flowers. And if you drive past my house in April or May and you see me laying on the front walk with my face in the dirt, don't worry. I'm OK! I'll have my nose in the hyacinths and I'll be breathing the life back into my wintery spirit.

Friday, January 28, 2011

A Deep and Abiding Love

There are things I love about the months between October and February. It's not the greatest time of year weather-wise, but there are oh so many other wonderful things. Things that make the sunless winter months bearable, even fun, for me.

The first is obviously Halloween.
I LOVE Halloween.

I also love Thanksgiving.
Mostly I love pie.

And OH.
How I love Christmas.
I really, really love Christmas.

I also generally love winter.
I love fresh snow,
and don't even mind old, yucky snow!

But the best thing, the very, VERY BEST THING about these holiday-full months is this...this one thing, this important, special thing:

Chocolate covered marshmallow things.
Pumpkins, turkeys, santas, hearts, and even sometimes eggs!
Oh the joy!
The inexpressible pleasure
of a chocolate covered
marshmallow ANYTHING!

I LIVE for the moment, early in October, when the first chocolate covered pumpkins hit the shelves. I stash, and I hoarde, and I sneak, and I hide my chocolatey, marshmallowy heaven so nobody else will eat it. In my sock drawer, in my nightstand drawer, in my desk at work, at the back of the cupboard...I put them there so I always have one when I need it (which may surprise you to know is NOT all the time. Just sometimes). My heart beats faster when I remember that I have a treat to look forward to. And I make myself wait. An hour? Thirty minutes? Until the news is over? Until I've eaten my healthy lunch? It's my special treat, and I love it. I love it loveitloveitloveit.

It's my favorite thing about this time of year.

And I prefer Russell Stover, if you were wondering....

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Savory Moment #3

Last night I was crying. I was missing my missionary, and feeling extra bad because I got news that someone had mistreated him--pretty badly, I thought. He didn't seem that upset by it, but it just hit me at the wrong moment, and I started worrying that no one is taking care of him. He's in a new area, he needs new shirts, it's bitter cold, his ride stood him up, so did his dinner appointment, boo hoo hoo.

I said to my husband, feeling on the edge of despair, "No one is helping him! They left him stranded, and he had to walk 10 miles in the dark and it's TEN FREAKING DEGREES!" My heart was ready to break.

Kate was sitting across the room reading, and she looked at me and said, very calmly, "Mom. He's never stranded. He's a missionary."

And the thing that happened next was kind of miraculous. My troubled heart was calmed. Immediately. And completely. That never happens to me! I have to talk myself into calming down, and work at it and take deep breaths and use half of a box of tissues. I tried to ignore it, and I used my sassy voice in my mind, but the peaceful feeling covered my fear and eased my heart. It was a tangible warm feeling, and I couldn't deny it. I knew that my daughter was right. My son is never stranded. He's a missionary. And the Lord watches out for his servants--and their Moms.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

The Good, the Bad, and the UGLY


Isaac is SUCH A DOLL! He had Cub Scouts tonight, and got all dressed up in his uniform. Blue pants, his new belt, his scout shirt, his red vest, his neckerchief, his new neckerchief slide, and his new Cub Scout baseball cap. I've never had a child so excited for scouts. Third time's the charm? Maybe? He's just so cute all dressed up and sitting on the chair by the door, clutching his little scout book and waiting until it's time to walk out the door.


Today I hate Savory Moments. Stupid idea. Now I always feel guilty if I'm crabby. And today, I'M CRABBY. SUPER crabby. Actually, crabby probably isn't the right word. Depressed? Sad? Overwhelmed? Yes, thank you.


Just to give you an idea of how depressedsadoverwhelmed I'm feeling tonight, I laid my head down on the dinner table (while everyone else was kind enough to eat the EPIC FAIL meal I had prepared. Yay for me--I cooked. But I didn't eat it.) and willed myself to disappear. It didn't work, so I decided to retire from teaching. I think I'm losing my touch. And I thought I'd sell my flute. Or quit my job. Or both. Or something. Oh, wait, then how would I pay my bills? Crap.

Yeah. I'm going to see if I can sleep this one off. Before it gets any UGLIER.

p.s. I freaking miss Paul.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Savory Moment #2

Tonight I've been practicing accompaniments for my students for Solo/Ensemble. I'm working on Quantz, Joncieres, Rutter, and Jacob. My hands are getting tired, and Isaac just told me that Dad is getting annoyed with the song I keep playing (this is not the Savory Moment). I stopped to rest a bit, and out of the depths of the basement, I hear my daughter's beautiful flute playing. She's struggling with the flute solo in the last movement of Dvorak IV. She's doing great, but she's way under tempo, and that's OK, because she's practicing under tempo, just the way I taught her to. She'll do it over and over and over until it feels comfortable, and then she'll speed it up just a little bit, and do it over and over and over again. Then she'll speed it up just a little more, and do it over and over and over. She'll keep doing this until it's fast enough, and by then it will be perfect. It takes time and patience, and tolerance from those around her who get annoyed with the repetition. The Savory Moment is that I know life works the same way.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Wordless Wendesday

Well, not THIS Wednesday, but from now on, Wednesdays will be Wordless Wednesdays. I'll post an awesome picture, and I won't say anything at all. You can just enjoy it, and I'll have a record of some great memories throughout the year.

So without further ado:

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Savory Moments, Part 1

I tend to be a "glass half empty" kind of girl. I don't like that about myself, and over the years, I have made multiple attempts at change. Some attempts go better than others. I like to think of it as a process, though. You know, I try, and I move forward, and then I try some more, and then I move forward some more. And then I quit and slip back a little, but then I try again. Yes, definitely a process.

Well, here's the thing. I have a great life. A great husband and great kids. A great home and great family and friends. A great job. But I'm frequently grouchy and ungrateful. In my introspective moments, which seem to come more and more frequently the older I get, I know that I need to change that attitude. I need to enjoy the journey a little more, if you will.

So here's what I'm gonna do. I am going to Savor the Moment. The moments come every day. And I notice them. I do. But I don't think about them very long because I'm so stressed and busy. My goal is to notice them and record them. That way when I'm in an extra poopy mood, I can look back and remember the Savory Moments. (Did I just write the word "poopy?" Nice...)

So, without further ado, here is SAVORY MOMENT #1:

Last night, I got the most wonderful email. It was from a lady who lives in Wamego, Kansas, where my son has been serving on his mission for the last seven months. He loved serving there, and was sad to leave when he got transferred last week. This sweet sister, whom I will proudly and forever call Friend, took the time to write to me and tell me how wonderful my son is. She told me how he taught her nine year-old daughter how to care for her American Girl pony, how he split the seam of his pants learning to be a Russian Dancer, how he ruined his suit coat by putting it in the washing machine, how he comforted his homesick companion on Christmas Day. She told me how the (not LDS) clerk in the grocery store asked her husband, "Where's that kid with the belt buckle? He was a good egg." She told me that my son is a good missionary and a hard worker.

I cried, and then I printed out the letter, and I took it to bed with me and held it while I slept. Savory Moment, indeed.