My Thankfuls

Over the past month I have watched as Facebook became inundated with posts and live feeds from friends and family about things they were thankful for. I understood why they were doing it; it was the time to share the things that they were most grateful for. While others were listing their blessings daily (some even twice daily) I resisted. I didn't want to just blatantly throw my thankfulness out there for anyone to read and disregard as they rushed to check on their farm, or fish, or other updates. In fact, more often that not when I saw a status begin with "I'm thankful for..." I rushed right by it, so overwhelmed with what other people were thankful for.

However, I came across this video and had tears in my eyes when I was finished watching it. It is a great reminder of things, ordinary things, that people are thankful for. I, too, wish to relate my "thankfuls" and thought my blog would be a more appropriate place in which to do this. So, here goes:

I am thankful for...
My adversities because they make me stronger.
My husband for no particular reason, and for every reason possible.
My family for their support and love and yes, even their craziness.
My friends because they always know just what to say and do.
My health, as bad as it is right now because the alternative would be death.
My God, my religion, the gospel of Jesus Christ, and my freedom.
And, like the guy in the video below, any and all future opportunities.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. Be thankful. Be grateful. Be happy.

An Interesting Turn of Events

These last few days, well, the last few weeks really, have been filled with hefty decisions and weighty matters that seemed almost too much for either James or I to handle. However, we have been blessed tremendously with the blessings from heaven and with the Spirit as we have prayed, pondered, and made a difficult decision. I have to take the time my body requires to heal and recover from this lengthy sickness that has prevailed for the better part of seven months, and from the barrage of migraines that have plagued me for the past ten years. I'm tired and now it is time for me to give in and rest.

Though our decisions have not been easy ones, we are confident they are the right ones. We know that God will bless us according to our faith. We know that as long as we continue to do all we can and then ask the Lord for help that He will provide us with what we need in order to continue on. This doesn't mean that I'm going to win the lottery and suddenly find myself a good ten million dollars richer, but it does mean that James and I will have sufficient for our needs.

So it is with a sigh of sadness that I go into work today to pick up my personal belongings and say good-bye to my coworkers and friends. I will miss not being able to just turn to Gina and talk to her about anything and everything. I will miss laughing as AQ and I position her small round mirror at just the right spot on the file cabinet across the aisle to be able to see each other just by looking at it. I will miss asking Lynn for napkins each day and talking to her about the things going on in her life. I will miss the crazy funniness that is Venessa and how she could always make me laugh on even the toughest of days. I'll miss the camaraderie, the frustrations, the problem solving, the tears, and the laughter. But most of all I will miss just being there in the midst of such a great group of people.

All Hallows Eve

For Halloween this year my work was having some fun festivities that employees could participate in. My department also decided to have a Halloween themed potluck and everyone signed up to bring stuff. I entered the pumpkin carving contest at work and found a really cool template of a vulture inside a cage. This particular carving not only had some detailed carving that I had never done before, but it also required the use of two - that's right! TWO! - pumpkins: one for the cage and one for the vulture. I worked really hard on this pumpkin the day before and was excited to take it into work. I was fairly confident that I could win first prize. Here is what the end result looked like:


Vulture in a cage pumpkin - before lighting.


Vulture in a cage pumpkin - after it was lit.

I rubbed my creation inside and out with petroleum jelly to keep it from shrinking and set it aside for Friday and the pumpkin carving contest.

For the Halloween themed potluck my department was having on the same day as the pumpkin carving contest, I decided to make some homemade peanut butter fudge...with a twist. I had some hand molds that I used to put the fudge in once it was done, and as an added surprise I added pretzel sticks in the fingers so when people were hacking into it, they would feel a crunch of bone and get freaked out. It would be awesome!! Here is the finished product:


Man! They sure do look creepy!!

James and I were laughing hysterically at the thought of my co-workers' screams when they cut into the fingers. It would be so fun, and James made me promise to tell him how it went over.

I also decided to make a fabulous jello salad called Cranberry Velvet Salad. It's cherry jello, cranberry sauce, and sour cream. It is the tastiest thing you have ever had. Trust me! I just happened to have a brain mold and knew it would be perfect for the blood red colored jello salad. I made the recipe and then placed it in the mold earlier that day. By the time my pumpkin was carved, I knew it would be ready, so I took it out and placed it on a plate. Here is the brain food:


Isn't that just awesome!?!?

Again, James' and my squeals of delight at how frightfully good everything had turned out were echoing off the walls. We could not be more excited. We put everything away where it would be nice and safe until the next day when I would pack everything up and display my goods for my entire work to see. Then we went to bed.

The alarm rang at 6:30 am, as it does most every day, and I turned over to get some more rest. 7:00 am rolled around and James gently rubbed my shoulder to tell me what time it was so we could get going. However when I tried to move to get up I was struck with sharp searing pain in my head. My heart sank, my stomach lurched, and tears sprang to my eyes. I had woken up with a severe migraine and I couldn't have been more crushed. Everything, all my hard work and all our excitement, was for not as I slowly began to realize I would be going nowhere that day, and participating in no festivities. I was so sad. I tried for 30 minutes to make the pain go away, but nothing worked. James called my boss and told her I had a migraine and I wouldn't be able to make it in. I tried not to burst out in chest heaving sobs and tears because I knew it would only send the pain over the edge. Instead I took my medicine and promptly fell back asleep in the hopes that it would get rid of my migraine.

I struggled all day with the pain and it finally went away about 11:30 last night. I was so sad that I wasn't able to make it into work and see all the things my co-workers had made. It was supposed to be a super fun day. Our department was decorated for Halloween with a "Deadly Diner" theme and I was so excited to partake of the fun activities we had. But apparently it was not to be. Now James and I have a ton of jello and peanut butter fudge to consume. Oh well. I can't be upset and angry about it forever. I'm glad we got pictures of everything so at least you could see the stuff we did. Today I am feeling better. No migraine, no excessive tiredness, and for that I am grateful because tonight we are going to see Wicked! At least I'll get to do one fun thing on All Hallows Eve! Have a Happy Halloween everyone!!

The Wind: A Four Part Series -- Part IV

"Where did the wind learn how to fly?" - Connor Brennan, 3 years old.

The fall wind: A promise of change rides on the back of the wind in the early afternoon. The strength surprises me as I feel the wind press into my back. There is a bite to the wind that makes it strong and ominous. I’m walking once again towards my apartment, but not with the urgency the wind is telling me I need. Huge dark clouds gather behind the mountains, peeking around the massive rocks in the distance. A storm is coming, and the wind is warning me of the impending fury yet to be unleashed. It coaxes me to move faster, to seek the shelter I am not far from. I do not heed its call and am caught unaware by the sudden downpour of rain that pounds on my head. The wind blows across my face, moving the hair from my eyes and helping me to quickly get inside. It moves me in the direction I need to go and I allow it. I seem to fly up the stairs, knowing with full confidence the wind has made this trip many times before. It protects me from the hard drops of rain that sting my arms, neck and face. The wind spouts out little bursts of air that force the rain into separate directions away from me.

Once I am safe inside my dwelling I watch the rain battle the wind. I view a constant scene of magical dances illuminated by the thunder and lightning outside. Sometimes the wind beats the rain. Sometimes the rain beats the wind. I step out onto the balcony, protected from the roof that hangs over just enough to allow me to watch the amazing display. The elements are at war and I am rooting for the wind to be the champion. I watch as the rain is tossed in different directions with a fury I have never seen. They move in sync, one chasing the other. For a moment I am distracted by a woman who has lost her papers in the storm. She runs around trying to catch them all before they go over the fence never to be seen again. She is an innocent bystander caught in a covert war between wind and rain.

The wind notices her and circles the papers in one area for her to pick up. I smile at this gentle approach in the midst of battle. But the rain is not to be distracted. It takes advantage of the preoccupied wind and pounds down even harder. The rain turns into hail and the fury I was surprised at before is nothing compared to the fury I witness now. The wind is crushed and for a long while all I hear is hail pounding on the railing I have gripped with white knuckles. I scan the area looking, hoping, for any sign of the wind confident it has not been defeated. But there is only the unrelenting power of the hail pounding on the ground, sounding like a standing ovation from the war it has just won.

A few minutes later the ovation dies down, and the hail is complete. There is nothing but silence. I am saddened by the defeat of the wind. I hang my head, thinking I will no longer enjoy the company of such a constant friend when suddenly, softly, I feel a faint breeze on my cheek. My hopes are rejuvenated as I smile brightly into the sky. The wind has not been defeated; it has been there all along. And it will continue to be so forever and ever.

The Wind: A Four Part Series -- Part III

"Where did the wind learn how to fly?" - Connor Brennan, 3 years old.

The summer wind: Hot and dry the wind bustles through the crowd. It’s playing another game, a game of cat and mouse. I am the mouse trying to escape the uncomfortable taste of dust that usually accompanies a long hot summer. I am tired from the heat, and desperate for the shade to provide some sort of relief. It does not come. Only the wind is there, hot and indifferent to those around it. It has a job to do and that job is to make everyone uncomfortable. The wind carries out its task with jubilant effort and seems to mock those who feel it. I can almost hear the wind laugh as I cry out in annoyance from the rough, dry air pressing through my body.

There is no escape this time and the wind knows it has the advantage. I walk down the city streets, looking at the shops with their doors open. Occasionally I find a brief moment of sheer bliss as I am encompassed about by the air conditioned spots sporadically located down the street. This does not make the wind happy, and I feel its outrage when I step out of the coolness and into the hot wind waiting to have its vengeance.

Exhausted I throw my hands up into the air, tired from the game I am apparently losing. I drag my feet to my car, anxious for the air conditioning I have inside. But the wind makes my every effort only the more exhausting. It comes at me in short bursts and envelopes me with the gritty feel of dust and dirt. I wipe my red eyes, irritated from the constant barrage of debris the wind uses for its ammunition. Slowly I make my way to my car with the only strategy I have the strength to carry out. I keep my head down, walk into the wind, and constantly take one step forward. I shall not surrender this time, no matter what the wind throws at me.

This is the final leg of the race, the final part of the game and the wind knows this. It throws everything it can at me, but I consistently move forward. This frustrates the wind, and it makes one final attempt to defeat me by tossing up a new dust devil around my knees. The dust devil gets surprisingly stronger as new debris is caught in the whirlwind and grows higher. My eyes sting so badly tears stream down my face, creating lines of dirt and dust along my face. But I soldier on towards my goal one step at a time until I am inside my car. I take a moment to look out into the city streets. The wind has given up and moved on and for once the victory is mine.

The Wind: A Four Part Series -- Part II

"Where did the wind learn how to fly?" - Connor Brennan, 3 years old.

The spring wind: A soft gentle breeze sweeps across my face, softly caressing the worries and stresses of my day. The wind plays along the road, kicking up bright green leaves and fresh soil. The hope of new life is all around, and the wind desires to spread it everywhere. I find myself kicking the leaves up as well, and the wind decides to play another game with me. This time the wind grabs the leaves with a gentle, but firm grip and tosses them up into the sky. Higher and higher the leaves go as a smile spreads across my face. I applaud when the leaves fall back down to the earth, flipping and fluttering as they land.

The wind senses my enjoyment and keeps me company as I stroll along, thoughts flowing freely in my mind like the wind flows freely amongst the trees. The sky is deep blue, with puffy white clouds scattered here and there. As if reading my thoughts, the wind picks up and dashes across the sky, capturing the clouds and transforming them into recognizable shapes as they float overhead. Peace and comfort fill my body. I sit on the bank of the river and watch the wind put on a cloud show for an audience of one.

Later in the evening I escape into the night and watch the stars. The wind has come out to greet me and again a soft breeze sweeps across my face. It slowly pushes my hair this way and that but there is no sign of anger. The wind is my friend in those late hours. I close my eyes as the wind bids me a good night, leaving its gentle touch on my heart and the sweet promise of a better day just on the horizon.

The Wind: A Four Part Series -- Part I

"Where did the wind learn how to fly?" - Connor Brennan, 3 years old.

The winter wind: Like an unseen monster it rages in full fury. Ducking behind gated corners it waits for me to walk by, and then unleashes its anger in short bursts of battered metal on cinder block walls. Fiercely it blows across the already darkened parking lot and rips through my hair as I sprint to my car. It dances around me, encircling me in a knotted mess of leaves and paper before piercing me to the very bone with its icy breath. I race to my car, open the door, jump inside and slam the door shut with the help of the winds’ hefty strength. I shiver as the wind becomes angrier with me, frustrated at my desire to be safe and warm and no longer wanting to play its chilling game. The safety of my car does not diminish the wind’s fury. It rips at the tires, pounds against the door, and otherwise makes my drive home more difficult.

A short distance later the wind seems to cease its fiery approach to devour me. I enjoy a pleasant ride home until I pull into the parking lot. The wind is there waiting for me. It seems to know the exact moment I will climb out of my car and run to my front door to the warmth inside. The wind taunts me with its fruitless blows, making me think it is safe for the moment and that I might be able to beat the wind to my front door. I am sadly mistaken when I open the door and take my first step out into the cold. All is still, causing my hopes to soar, but then a sound like a rushing waterfall surges up behind me and sends shivers down my spine. I know what that sound is, and my heart beats faster. I make a break for my front door, thoroughly convinced I can beat the wind and make it safely home. Out of nowhere I am slapped in the face by an icy gust that takes my breath away and I am momentarily frozen. I fumble a bit as I try to catch my breath and keep my eyes from going blurry. My keys drop from my hand at the unexpected blow and I feel frightened. I stumble around the night trying to locate my keys as the wind does its best to keep me from coming closer to my apartment. When I find them, I once again race to a sheltered corner where the wind cannot touch me. I grin from my hiding place, fully aware of the wind’s ever growing wrath.

For a moment the wind can’t find me and I am still. I keep thinking if I move it will locate me and release any reserved power it seems to possess. When the wind moves on I escape, running at full speed up the stairs and toward the door. I am only steps away when the wind catches up. It tears at my face, my eyes, my bones. It comes at me from every side as if playing a game of tag where everyone is “it” and I am the only one who has yet to be touched. Mere feet in front of my door I have been beaten, defeated by the wind who started the game some 20 miles back and yet somehow always wins. I relent and allow the wind to have its victory. I nod my head in agreement of the victory as the wind howls cruelly through the night.