Category: Life according to Angela

Passing by

Richard and I often lament the opportunities we pass by as we travel, such as the Grand Canyon, Hoover Dam, and even the ubiquitous jerky stands and a quirky ostrich farm or rock shop.

We drive near the Hoover Dam several times a year. Since the bypass was constructed, there is a walkway spanning the canyon which we have never tried… because we’re in a hurry to get home to start the laundry and check our email or something. Somehow these things feel so petty when you begin to walk across the bridge, feeling the swaying and vibrations from traffic and catching the gusts of wind. At least this is what I think I would have felt if I hadn’t been taking care of our dog while the rest of the family had the adventure. I’m not bitter. Heights grow more terrifying with time. And I’m old. There’s nothing like heights to reaffirm that.

I drive though desolate scenes every day, but even here, the desert reminds me that there is depth and beauty for those who look. A coyote runs out in front of the car; a bull emerges near the railroad tracks on a foggy morning; an owl sits calmly on the power line as we race past it to church activities in the evening. Each of these sitings has left me inexplicably rejuvenated.

The key is to keep looking, even when the desert seems so, so barren, because I’m quite certain that it is wonder that rejuvenates and enlivens our souls.

There and Back Again

Paige and Richard at Zion National Park

 

We went away for the weekend. It was a Hobbit-like journey in its surprises and sudden departure. We came back more wise, weathered, and with treasures, too. I spent time in St George, Utah with the women in my family doing temple work, shopping, sewing, watching episodes of Cranford, eating salads, and enjoying Haagen Dazs. Richard and the kids set off on adventures at Zion National Park.

 

Timothy and Grandpa Ross at Zion
Paige, Timothy, and Daniel on the trail
Lost and Found!

After Richard and the kids returned, the kids, wide-eyed told me that Mark had been separated from the group for a while and was lost. He had a walkie-talkie and listened to instructions to yell so he could be found.

Mark said, “Mom, I was lost on Mount Zion.”

I asked,”And what did you learn from your experience?”

“Stay with the Pack!” he exclaimed.

Richard, never letting Mark out of his hands again.

On our return, we merged into our usual activities without much ado. The only hiccup was having to stay up until midnight so we could register Paige for EFY (Especially For Youth camp at BYU) at the first opportunity. Paige has given up on BYU Ballet Intensives. We have not been very happy with them for the past two years.

Let me explain EFY registration to you: Think early. You’ve got to get on the preregistration list in the fall. They will tell you the earliest time you can register, and it’s always some date in January at midnight. (We didn’t think early enough.) Think often. If you don’t get the location and dates you want, check the website often for cancellations. We didn’t get the date we wanted, but the next morning before seminary we checked the website and seized a new single opening on a better date. Hooray!

It seems that all we do lately is add activities to the calendar. We’re currently booked through August.

Jobs, not Chores

Around our house we do JOBS, not CHORES. I find that names carry a lot of significance. It’s better be employed in a job than a chore. One implies importance and meaning; the other implies drudgery.

But doggy pick-up truly is a chore. Notice the improvised gas mask.

Running the electric blower is the favorite outdoor job. It’s loud for little ears, so Mark chooses his red ear protection and he’s ready to go.

Here’s the list of the jobs the kids do on Saturdays:

bedrooms: change sheets, clean, dust, and vacuum

help clean bathrooms

vacuum and dust family and living rooms

help with dishes

dust mop the hallways

clean, dust, and vacuum school room

clean up patio and lawn areas

help in the garden or other outdoor tasks

doggy clean up (we usually pay 10 cents per… you know)

wash windows

put away laundry

fold towels or help with socks

One of Richard’s coworkers gave him a Wii because she felt sorry for us, the only family on the planet without computer games. It is not something we planned on purchasing, but we decided that since we have one, we will let the kids play it one day per week (Saturdays) after the jobs are finished.

I hope the Wii doesn’t take over our lives.

I worry that it will.

I really don’t like the Wii.

Mrs. Weasley’s clock

If I had a clock like Mrs. Weasley from Harry Potter, the hands for Richard, Daniel, Timothy, and Mark would be pointing to “Mortal Peril” on our vacations. You should google “Mrs. Weasley’s clock” and see the fun clocks people have designed.

Our family clock would be a little less exciting. A mood clock would probably be more appropriate today. If I had such a device, the mood would be “grumpy” for Timothy, “tired” for Daniel, “overwhelmed” for Paige, “frustrated” for Richard, “happy” for Mark, and “pensive” for me.

 

 

Vroom, vroom. It’s time to take charge of this day. Wish us luck.

’tis Christmas past

We have been away from home, enjoying extended family. We came home to a house full of Christmas presents we never put away, making it seem like we celebrated 4 Christmases (one at home, one in St George, one in Provo, and once again at home).

We did everything we set out to do this season and more, and those memories will keep us going.

Readers, I am not sure how to proceed. With the new year, I am reevaluating the time it takes to write this blog, as well as its content. In the past, I’ve used this as a forum to celebrate home schooling; I’ve ranted about educational philosophy; I’ve celebrated the children; I’ve reminisced and shared old photos; I’ve regaled you with lists more times than you can comfortably endure. The common theme and motivation has always been a desire to be known. This has not changed, but my time to share has been diminished.

I’ve been thinking about sharing more of my thoughts on the literature I read. When I have tried this, it has been cathartic, but very time consuming. To this point, I have only shared the titles I read in my sidebar, and I certainly have strong opinions about them. Would you be interested in reading some book reviews now and then? Don’t answer that question. I was just teasing. This blog is for me, even though I say it is for you. But I do write because I love you.

As I review this post I ask myself two questions, “Will this ramble in the woods of my thoughts be of any worth to someone besides myself?” and “Why am I not making dinner?”

I need to make dinner. To those of you whom I saw over Christmas break, I am so grateful for our time together. It was marvelous to be with you.

 

Humble gifts

The Christmas cards are not out yet and I will tell you why. I don’t like my hair in the photograph. It’s debilitating perfectionism like this that keeps me quiet, leaving people to think I am aloof or distant or a mute. Perfectionism is the reason I sometimes don’t give the gifts I have made to the people I love. Perfectionism and accompanying fatigue are the reasons I don’t throw more parties or make Christmas goody plates for the neighbors. My perfectionism has stalled the Annual Christmas Video this year. I can’t find the perfect song.

I’ve never been able to fall into the Christmas routine that so many families have: they get their Christmas cards out early; they have a current family portrait on the wall; they shop for Christmas in October. Immediate needs tend to push my Christmas planning and shopping to December.

However, the true Christmas meaning is wrapped in grace. My softest memories and most meaningful times have nothing to do with a perfect photo or the cutest card. The best gift offered to us presented himself in a manger, and the humility and imperfection of the scene reminds me that love doesn’t require perfect presentation. Humble offerings are sometimes the most meaningful.

I took some of my Young Women out for hot chocolate last night.  We talked for hours as the rain fell outside the little shop. We told one another about the favorite gifts we have given and received. The gifts the girls remembered were not expensive. We laughed and enjoyed the memories together of a father placing his gift on the front door of their home (where it remains) because he loved it so much; of a doll given to one of the girls by her brother and father, now in tatters, still sitting in her room. Last night will always be a special memory for me and I did it with messy hair, drove everyone in a cluttered van, and presented no wrapped gifts–just my time and a little hot chocolate.

I’ll get my cards out (I LOVE receiving Christmas cards!) and Richard will make an incredible Annual Christmas Video. I won’t make goody plates, but when I make a good batch of something, I’ll run some next door or across the street. I’ll never shake all of my perfectionist tendencies or my desire to just stay home away from the frantic scenes. But I hope you smile when you think of a time spent together with us this year, even if it’s just been through the blog. I share because I love you.

 

Exhale

Yesterday I spoke in Stake Conference.  Giving a talk is something I like to do, and for some reason my panicky personality doesn’t melt down when I speak. I agonized quite a bit over what to say and lost some sleep, but just in time, and with a lot of prayer, the words came.

Someone told me on Saturday that she didn’t think I had a voice. I thought of her as I spoke to all those people and I felt a little vindicated. Of course I have a voice. This introvert actually has a lot of things to say and I felt grateful for the opportunity to speak.

For everyone, Monday means facing the things that were neglected over the weekend. And with all the talk preparation, there are a lot of neglected tasks at my house. I need to focus on my breathing, feed my family, and then get back to work.

 

 

Superwoman for a bit longer

I work with these young women.

I have a scheduled day of pampering on Thursday, the day after Young Women in Excellence night. I will be in knit pants all day and my biggest exertion will be to turn on the mixer to make some cookie dough. But count on it, I’ll be Superwoman until then.

I wrote a song for the Young Women in Excellence night for the girls to sing. Don’t be that impressed. It’s in C major and it’s a whopping 12 measures, but when you sing it 3 times, it is 3 times longer, so we’re definitely doing that. Unfortunately, I learned it’s the kind of song that sticks in people’s heads at 3 a.m. so they can’t sleep. I had hoped it would pop into the heads of the young women when they were at critical decision making moments. (“Sorry, Billy, I just can’t do that. Sister Ross’s song is in my head.”) Instead, it’s just making people crazy.

I haven’t picked up a book in days.

It’s been a busy few months, but on the busy days I keep remembering that I LIKE to be busy. I LIKE the adrenaline and the planning.  So while I’m not really feeling sorry for my busy little self, I AM planning a day of absolute sloth. I am aching to read a book (Did I steal that from Anne of Green Gables?) and it would be nice to prepare a dinner with care instead of haste; watch a  movie instead of a computer screen; savor instead of skim.

Aren’t those young women beautiful? Can you find Paige?