Category: Life according to Angela

The first day at public school and my walk home

Mark and Timothy were kind enough to pose for a few pictures to show off their new school.

Mark is sporting the greatest pair of shoes I’ve ever seen.

I wore my sunglasses so I could cry when Mark walked away from me for the first time.

I haven’t been alone for 16 years, but I walked home by myself and took some photos along the way.

I like my neighborhood. I love my neighborhood.

Here’s our new house.

Those big trees in the front and the back are all ours.

This is our front porch. I’m going to paint that planter in a few months when I finish reading all of the documents the schools have sent home with the kids.

So, it’s me and the piano and Sparky all day together. I don’t really count Sparky because he is personally offended that I come home each morning without the kids. He’s depressed and pouts in his mudroom cage most of the day.

 

An Inaugural Theme Song

httpv://youtu.be/GBaHPND2QJg

It’s an exciting, sad, happy, tiring, exhilarating, and glorious time in our lives. My journal has been the more appropriate place for my thoughts lately, but this music speaks of our new experiences too tender to share. Try to overlook that it’s another flash mob YouTube video.

Snippets

We have some lovely grapes in the backyard which the kids have enjoyed eating.

Richard has a new lawn edger.

All of the kids are registered for school. Yes, this was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. I know it’s the right thing to do, but I’m not talking about it, so please don’t ask.

Most of the boxes are unpacked, but we don’t have many pictures hung.

My favorite parts of our house are the kitchen, mudroom, backyard, and the basement library.

We have had different neighbors stop by nearly every single night to bring us goodies to welcome us.

Daniel is part of a thriving scout troop and Deacon’s quorum.

When you walk out of Paige’s school, three temples are in view.

Yesterday Paige and I filled two five-gallon buckets with therapeutic weeds.

ALL people want to talk about here is education. They ask our name and then they ask the names of our children’s teachers. Pretty much. I think it’s a good sign that the community is so invested in their schools.

I discovered someone with whom I can quote Shakespeare.

The neighbors said that a general authority lived in this house 10 years ago.

Our closets are improving, thanks to help from my parents and Joe.

Life is much easier with good shopping nearby.

I love the evenings here.

I am very grateful to be here. The timing was perfect for our family.

Daniel starts school tomorrow. The rest of the kids begin on Monday.

If you wonder what we are doing, we are either playing in the backyard, playing with boxes and styrofoam, organizing, or eating goodies from the neighbors.

 

Reflection

Moving is like birth and death, full of mourning and celebration, vulnerability and sentiment. Our life story has been replayed in the packing and unpacking of objects, pictures, and books. Our furniture has been on parade into and out of a moving truck. Our family has been watched as we made our exit from our desert home, neighbors lining the street to wave teary goodbyes. In our new neighborhood, we have been watched through the windows of curious neighbors and welcomed from driveways and across church pews.

I’ve handled objects I haven’t touched in years. My babies’ blankets, old photographs, and high school yearbooks tell pieces of our story. The textbooks from eleven years of homeschooling tell a bittersweet story from which I am walking away (gradually). My dusty violin case scolds me for the neglect I promised I would never allow. My Texas years, evidenced in seminary teacher manuals and church books remind me of another part of my life which I hope to awaken in our new place.

Our Texas years were times of expansion in ideas, friendships, and in family members. Our Arizona years were a time of retreat; they were a time for our family to focus on one another. I’m grateful for each home and every experience. I come back to Utah ready to watch our family grow into who we need to be here.

Have you ever adopted a theme song for an important time in your life? This has been my theme song during this past month of transition in our lives.

01 – Home

I’ll share photos soon.

Meeeeeee

This summer I have been overly (I won’t say uncharacteristically) jittery and insecure. I could blame it on the move, aging, school, Pioneer Trek, the weather, introversion, and the fact that I have needed a haircut for a very long time.

This week I was driving a carload of kids to go shopping and it occurred to me that I felt “back” to the way I usually feel. It coincided with a haircut, but it wasn’t the haircut that did it. It was a combination of events, each of them freeing me from some source of worry.

It’s good to feel normal again. Well, as normal as I get.

Look out, Utah. Are you ready for this lady?

Projects

Mornings are the time for work in the garage and errands. Afternoons are the time for quiet projects.

Two of my recent projects are dish towel goodbye gifts and new fabric on the kitchen chairs. I enlisted the kids to help me with the chair disassembling, cutting, and cushion testing (Mark).

I pulled out my embroidery machine to do the towels and made this card with our new address and tucked it neatly into each towel. I can’t wait to deliver these. It will feel a little bit like Christmas.

Wrap-up

Mark jumped from this ledge over and over, landing in the sand in a heap. Our eventful summer continues to demand our biggest efforts and some adventurous spirit.

Last night was the first time in a month that we were all home together (in Arizona). Its normalcy was soothing, although it’s really not normal for all of us to be home together. We let the dishes sit in the sink and we watched the Olympics and forgot about bedtime.

We’ve learned some things this summer living in two different states, not the least of which is how to text. We’re high-tech, but until now, we haven’t seen the need to type with our thumbs. Who knew how comforting this little exchange could be?

Are you there?

Yes.

and,

Good morning, Beautiful!

(That was from Richard.) 😉

When we need a break, Richard and I list good things that we know will come and good things that we hope will come with our move. Proximity to family and the temple rank very high, of course, but I’ll just share some light-minded ones with you:

  • Restaurants!
  • BYU football tickets
  • grass
  • trees
  • fireworks
  • seasons
  • food storage items in grocery stores
  • fry sauce
  • parades
  • Utah peaches
  • that General Conference feeling as it plays in almost every home in the neighborhood
  • Western Family brand
  • KSL radio
  • the lights at Temple Square

Arizona will always be with us, just as Texas is. Yesterday I had my first Sonoran hot dog and that will be something I’ll work to replicate all the rest of my life.

Hey, Utahns, what other (positive) little things do we have to look forward to? And no teasing about the cold, please. I know that 15 years living in cauldron states leaves me ill-equipped to handle the cold. Comment! Comment! I need company during these last days in the desert.

Our fortunes

I took the boys out for Chinese food recently and these are the fortunes from our cookies. Thinking about moving to a house that Richard had not yet seen, and with hope for good things, we took these messages a little more seriously.

“An unusual dream will come true.”

“You are admired for your impeccable tastes.”

“Forge ahead with your new ideas.”

“When the flowers bloom, so will great joy in your life.”

Yesterday each of the kids had a friend at our house. I watched them marching in a line on top of our wall in the backyard and smiled as they played Twister. They have all grown taller this summer, their tan legs like stilts. Later, I heard a friend’s sweet laughter echoing down the hall and felt guilt and sadness for the change that we’re introducing to these children. I am so grateful for the little family across the street whom we have loved for six years. Friendship, which comes so naturally to children, is a greater treasure than they know. When I say goodbye, it helps me to remember that eternal things aren’t governed by time or distance, but how do you explain that to little ones?

And then there are silly things like the lizards, and the summer monsoons, and the funny radio stations in Spanish… “The meanest thing to which we bid adieu, Loses its meanness in the parting hour.” -Elliott

Yes, I am feeling sentimental today.

Lost

I lost the diamond from my wedding ring today. I had been everywhere inside and outside the house. I was calm, but felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. Things have not been easy lately, but I have felt supported and strengthened by unseen hands. I knew that I would find the diamond if it was important that I did.

So I prayed, and asked myself if it was important.

I knew that the diamond didn’t define my marriage. I knew that Richard wouldn’t be angry. I lost it because I was working so hard that I didn’t even notice that my ring was smashed, the prongs all askew.

As I searched the gravel of our yard and through boxes and shelves in the garage, I tried to gain the courage to not tell Richard until we had money again, maybe in 15 years or so.

I thought of all the women I know who have lost a diamond. I thought of the reward I would offer the movers if they found it.

My kids helped me look, and somehow I knew it had to be in the gravel in the front yard, which meant that it was gone forever. I pulled out one of the several rings that Richard has given me over the years and slipped it on my finger, ready to live without my wedding ring.

But then Timothy ran inside. He was holding the diamond, not daring to believe that he had found it. It was in the gravel in our front yard. When I hugged him, I felt his heart racing. What a lovey. I hugged and kissed everyone and said another prayer.

I guess that it was important to find it. Although I knew that my marriage and my faith didn’t hinge on the diamond, I was reminded that I’m known and loved. God is in the details of our lives.

This has been a summer of miracles for me and our family. In my efforts to be in charge of my life, I have been humbled as I have had evidence that it’s not my hands which control what happens. That’s a great comfort, because I’m pretty weak and shortsighted.

Girls’ Camp: check.

Shamrock Headbands seemed like a good idea at the time... (Photo stolen from Emily's Facebook post.) 😉

Pioneer Trek and Girls’ Camp are finished. I am tired and there is dirt embedded in my nails, but it’s been a good few weeks with the youth.

The smell of an afternoon rain shower is so soothing. I feel relaxed and ready to take on the next hurdle: our move to Utah.

We’re leaving the desert after 7 years and these recent experiences with the youth don’t make it very easy to leave.

If I think, “Where will we be next month?” I just have a dark space which doesn’t include our house or our friends. It still doesn’t seem real, but as I take down our photos from the walls and we begin to fill in the trampoline hole in the back yard, I see that it is real and that our mark on this house is being carefully erased. I find myself growing less concerned about the house and more concerned about the impact we have made in our little community. I hope that we have made a difference.