Happiness is having a dog...

for two and a half days.

Fix it up,

wear it out,

make it do,

or do without. 

(Thank you, Grandma Barbara.)

Eggs, Basket...

Meet Marko.

I Heard it Again Today

Chas's reading teacher said how much Lucy looks like Eliza.

I hear it all the time.  I love to hear it.  Eliza loves to hear it as well. 

The ones who know, say it with a question mark.  The ones who don't, say it with certainty.

The funny thing is that their temperament and likes are the same as well.  They are both calm and gentle and flexible.  They both are infatuated with dogs and stuffed animals.  They both love to look at books and do puzzles.

It makes me wonder if it simply means that all Caucasians share some physical characteristics that could be interpreted as similarities? 

Or are people cut from a cloth that includes both temperament and appearance and because they are alike in one category it makes them alike in the other? 

Someone suggested that people begin to look like their families, so Eliza has had ten years of developing into looking like us and Lucy genetically looks like us.  Our looks are contagious? It sounded weird. 

My most probable working theory is that our spirits contain who we are, both looks and temperament, and that we are grouped into families that have common spiritual heritage. (Whatever that might mean.)  So, we are like our own families no matter how we joined them.

Anyway, I heard it again today.
And it warmed my heart as it always does.

Honesty

Honesty, for me, sometimes gets all muddled.

I wonder if honesty should be sacrificed in my fight against cynicism.

And I wonder if "fake it 'till you make it" is a reasonable, albeit dishonest, strategy for optimism, good parenting, wisdom, charitable service, and many other of my pursuits. 

I hate fine lines, grey areas, and muddles.

Umm...I mean...fine lines, grey areas, and muddles are an opportunity for growth and I'm grateful when
they come my way.  See?  so peppy, it's just downright dishonest.

(PS--"Muddles" is what Marko calls "puddles."  Whenever we put on his monkey boots he says, "Now I can jump in Muddles.")

Humpty Dumpty

Thank you, Dallin.  (You Genius!)

American Proverb

Don't Put All Your Eggs in One Basket.

This Basket had:

all my photos for the last 7 months
my camera
the family calendar
our ward directory
the grocery lists
the codes for many online accounts
the notes for all the school meetings, cub scout meetings, etc.
my budget
multiplication flashcards
music note flash cards
our family phone
everyone's phone numbers
my new year's resolutions (good riddance)


All my eggs went into a sink full of water yesterday.  All the king's horses and all the king's men can't put these eggs back together again. 

The Lost Years

2011 and 2012

In those years, Dallin's company died a painful death.

Lucy was born in a pitosin-laden-torpedo.

We sold our house.

6/7ths of us moved to Utah and 1/7th of us moved to Dale's house.

Sariah got a part-time job. 

Chas won 1st place in the Pinewood Derby.

Naomi went to two girls camps and moved on both birthdays.

Eliza added the flute, the violin, and the recorder to her piano studies.

Marko didn't learn to talk and started speech therapy.

Dallin found a perfect new job.

We sadly left Canada behind.

We lived in a hotel for a month.

All with almost no photos, no blog, and no journal. 

So, it's time to get back on the horse. Giddyup!

Starting Fresh

Welcome back to my blog.