Angie’s Book

Do you have an unlikely treasure hidden in plain sight at your house?

Here’s mine:

My house is full of binders just like this, but this is one of my favorites.

Last year I decided to collect the notes I have taken from literature since moving to Arizona and compile them in a book for easy reference.

It’s an odd assortment of stuff; some of it is personal religious study; some of it is evidence of curiosity; many books I have studied so I can teach them. I don’t take notes on everything that I read. More often you will find my notes scribbled in the margins of my books. But there are some books which require a little more effort. This is where I keep the evidence of those efforts.

I read The Republic twice last year to make any sense of it. I made notes in columns to show the dialogue.

After reading The Aeneid and making careful summaries, I decided not to use much of the work in Paige’s study plan.

This book is evidence of many elements of my life which coincide with my studies. I was a mother of a toddler at the time I was studying a text on the American Revolution.

My notes from Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith were left on a chair at Spring Lake and received a good soaking from the sprinklers.

After I read a book, I decide whether I want my children to study it. If so, I will often make a study plan, research commentaries, and write essay questions and sometimes worksheets. It’s not very often that I read something and discover that I can’t use it in some way in our classes.

I gave up personal reading during high school and college. It took me years to revive the hunger for ideas which was stamped out during those busy years. I didn’t like much of what was assigned to read during those years. I became weary from ideas of authors I didn’t admire and books I had not chosen. Of course these reading experiences had value, but I am grateful to be in a new phase of study.

This time of my life is a little bit like being back in school, but I love the freedom to read what I want and study as little or much as I please.

Mosaic tile art class

I taught an art class for children this week. I feel pretty good about it.

We had great participation and focus among the students.

There is something so great about kindergarteners. Mark is very proud to be a part of the big kid class.

We applied the tile pieces to foam board with glue.

Mark made a sunset and Timothy made a beach scene.

Daniel made a saguaro cactus in bloom.

And I made a poppy.

 

Veiled memories

Paige in her Easter dress at our apartment looking down at a bug. She is 20 months old.

We lived in an apartment for a year in Austin, Texas before we moved into our house. This wasn’t our first time living in a different state from our parents, but Richard’s job made it a more permanent arrangement. Paige was my constant companion through that year of adjustment.

We made daily walks to the mailbox and this was the highlight of our day. I was writing to two brothers on missions and my grandmother was a faithful correspondent. I lived for the mail. Paige lived for the ducks we passed on our way to the mailboxes. We watched families of ducks hatch in the spring and grow to maturity.

I reflect on those times now and find that these memories hold my heart like it’s a sponge being wrung. Real feelings are associated with those simple moments. Last night I asked her if she remembered our walks, but she couldn’t. Did she remember the lake or the apartment? Did she remember our talks or the evenings we blew bubbles in the protected corridors between apartment buildings which allowed the bubbles to sail more gently? No, the memories were not there.

I know enough about child development to realize that infancy and early childhood are not about concrete memories, but the feelings of security and the affection of a parent are pivotal to many areas of development.

It still seems a little sad that she can’t remember those times, though. Perhaps I should look at those memories of motherhood as a personal gift from God, a reminder that small and simple acts are significant. For it seems that simple acts bring blessings for the giver long after the recipient ceases to need those gifts. These feelings and memories are my treasures, and they are uniquely mine because they were crafted with my own small acts of personal sacrifice and love. Perhaps these motherly acts were inspired by remnants of memories of my own mother’s forgotten acts kindness to me when I was a baby. In all things, it seems that God knows best how to nurture his children, and if it means forgetfulness for a while, then I will trust in that.

Valentine’s Day offerings

Richard treated me to this necklace for Valentine’s Day. I found it at the Gem and Mineral Show. Paige says the stones remind her of pomegranate fruits. The necklace has some weight, but it feels better than any of the plastic bead necklaces that I own.

One day I had a conversation with a grandmother about rocks. She pulled out a rock from her collection of treasures and had me hold the smooth, contoured stone until it warmed in my hand. “Now that’s a Good Rock, isn’t it?” she said. I’m not sure what made it a good rock, but I had to agree. The stone had imparted some sort of stability which was comforting. Maybe I was starved for something natural in my hands.

Some of you may wonder what I’m talking about, but that’s just because you haven’t experienced this yet.

My Valentine’s Day stone necklace has the same quality as my grandmother’s good rock.

I gave my Valentine 40 completed Nutcracker DVD orders. I know, you can’t believe I would post such a romantic gesture on the internet!

A Hairstyle for reading Shakespeare

It seems self-portraiture is a little addictive. I love the messy, romantic look of this quick hairstyle which gains more character with the day. Twist and pin, twist and pin. That’s all there is to it. Non-perfection is the rule. I can do that!

There is more than romance and fashion going on in my head today, but it doesn’t seem worth mentioning. Some days are like that. Is that a gray hair?

Don’t answer that.

Reading Shakespeare in my spare minutes all day long= A day well spent.

 

Tucson Gem and Mineral Show

The Tucson Gem and Mineral show is the place to awaken your inner child. You can see the sensational and the humble, the flashy and the fossilized. We like to go on the School Day because vendors bring out boxes of rocks for $1 or $2. We give each child $5 and they can collect quite an assortment.

This year they had Geronimo’s rifle and Wyatt Earp’s pistol on display. Mark was simply amazed (wink). We had to wait a full 5 minutes to muscle our way through all the old history buffs to get this photo.

Mark was my buddy and we sifted through a lot of rocks together to find just the right ones.

Richard came with us this year and this means we have some photos of the event. Do you like rocks? You should come next year!

The hat

I’ve been wearing this hat this week. It makes me feel better. It has a quality similar to blinders which allows me to focus on my immediate tasks and creates a private space for my thoughts to swirl. I love hats.

Someday I’ll gain the courage to wear a grand old Eliza Doolittle hat to church for Easter. That will be a good day.

I felt very silly taking this photo of myself this morning. In the 60 seconds it took to pose, someone discovered my absence and came knocking on my door. “Silly girl,” I thought to myself, “locking the door and taking photos of half your face in a hat.”

“On the other hand,” my inward voice continued, “it’s only a minute and being silly sometimes means being authentic.” It’s not that authenticity is my top priority, but it’s a corollary to my vision of happy living.

I have my own world in the midst of it all, but it’s often abbreviated.

For instance, I dream of someday finishing my shopping list before I have to be somewhere else. I don’t remember the last time I finished a complete shopping list. I always omit something for the sake of time.

For this reason, I post this photo of myself that took 60 seconds to prepare and declare that my identity involves more than what I am able to accomplish and involves an inner life which few really know. Plus, I like hats.

 

 

 

Valentine Reminder

Valentine from Paige, age 7

Are you thinking about Valentine’s Day? Do you send cards to the people you love? I love receiving notes. I save everything. I’ll even print out a good email and tuck it in an envelope with the sender’s name. Someday you can come and visit and we can go through my letters and see all the notes I have kept from you. We’ll laugh and cry and remember good times.

Valentine’s Day can feel daunting, and you may be tempted to just call it an over-commercialized holiday, giving yourself an excuse to skip the sentiment. If you do, you’ll miss out on a great opportunity.

Here are some pointers and words of encouragement for the Valentine’s Day Challenged:

1. Some of the best valentines are unexpected. This was a valentine I received from an older girl in my high school. There was a carnation attached and she was wishing me luck on an orchestra performance. I thought this girl didn’t like me, but evidently she thought enough of me to send me a carnation *at school* for Valentine’s Day. Do you know someone who could use a pick-me-up?

2. Valentines do not need to be in card form. Here is a note my grandpa wrote to me. Always concerned about money (he was a banker), this was his form of love made visible. Notice he signed it “Love, John.” This was one of the last notes from my grandpa.

3. Remember the little people in your life. Children love to make valentines, but I think they love to receive them just as much. This was from my second grade teacher.  A little boy in my class saw my note from the teacher and the next week wrote one to me, misspelling the sentiment like this, “To my Sweat Pie from Sam.” Boy, do I wish I could find his note.

4. Hallmark is a great resource. Don’t be afraid of a store-bought card. I’ve kept this one for over 30 years. I loved it.

5. Chocolate is not the only treat you can give. This was not a valentine, but it ranks up there with one of the all-time most thoughtful gifts ever given to me. It was from Kyle, who was my “brother” on Pioneer Trek. This box of pop tarts was waiting at the door when I got home, tired and hungry. I guess I had mentioned that I loved pop tarts. He remembered. And yes, I am insane for keeping a pop tarts box label for 20 years.

6. Remember your old friends and avoid Facebook and email if possible. This letter is from Julie, a friend since elementary school. It is written with an old typewriter (in 2009!) to be more personal. I cherish this non-electronic approach to remembering a friend.

7. Valentines from sweethearts should never be shared online. So, you won’t see love notes from Richard here. Sometimes a valentine for a sweetheart is the most difficult to find. Just remember what you love about that person and I’ll bet you think of some way to tell them.

Happy Valentine’s Day preparations!

 

Puppy love

Sparky recently took a nap in the car beside a beloved stuffed animal.

Sparky keeps throwing up today. Blech. I’m trying to remember that we keep him because:

1. He was the cutest, most lovable puppy in the bunch.

2. The children love, love, love him.

3. He doesn’t have a big slobbery tongue.

4. He was a concession to Timothy for having to move.

5. I am afraid of any dog taller than my knee, so he is ideal.

Thoughts about Girls’ Weekend

Susan’s photos

I was a daughter and sister before I was a wife and mother, but most of the time I forget that.

I don’t think about leaving my family for a weekend away because I am a home body and I like to kiss my kids good night. I have left my family several times, but coaxing, extreme need, or a religion symposium were the necessary ingredients to pull me away. This time, it took the computer blowing up to finalize the decision.

On this girls’ weekend, I renewed my zeal for family history. As we worshiped, laughed, shopped, and sewed, I could distill the sisters from the accoutrements of children, husbands, and activity; distill the friends from the mother, relatives, and siblings.

In the book, Angle of Repose, Wallace Stegner talks about the Doppler Effect as it relates to memory and perception of life events. There is distortion over time, just as there is a distortion in sound with distance.

During our visit I heard stories of the past in new ways. My relative position to those memories has altered, and my understanding of motives and history makes these memories and their lessons different. Perception and value change with time, experience, and need. My mom said that hearing more about her family’s side events has altered her perception of things that happened long ago.

I am counting on that ultimate wisdom, because things aren’t perfect in these photos. I think of the sister-in-law who might have been with us, making our number 7, not 6. I don’t want to understand everything now, because the pain is too deep, but someday, when time eases up on the frequency of those feelings, maybe I’ll find my own angle of repose about it all.

I came away thankful for having gone. Susan’s pictures clarified what I felt was most important for me to learn on the trip, and that is to do my duty as a daughter of God first.

See the metaphorical baggage we dropped to the side to be in the temple together?

The great rescue from my quilt quagmire; a hair transplant, and basic relaxation strategies

On the morning after a late night Cranford marathon, one of us has eyes so puffy they won’t open.