Letters from Home

This photo was taken in a yard in the middle of the desert.  The pavement ended at its gates;

the home was small and there were no fancy cars,  just flowers and cactus.

“Ditat Deus”

That’s Latin for Arizona’s State motto and it means “God Enriches.”

When I saw these flowers, I felt myself “considering the lilies of the field.” (Matthew 6:28)

I spend a lot of time in great effort trying to make life run smoothly, but the best and most beautiful things in my life

are here because Heavenly Father arrayed them thus.

Yes, the following post is a little bit grumpy. Despite the flowers, I have to say spring is not my favorite thing. I roll with the seasons, and when the weather is wonky, I am wonky. I am fine, though, and planted wheat grass for Easter time and flowers today. I heard my oldest children play piano at the U of A this morning and that was nice.

Now, for the Angie-rant.

I had a dream of becoming one of those people who had cloth grocery bags but I could never bring myself to plunk down the money to do it. I decided the only way I was going to be ecologically responsible was to ask for Richard to buy them for me. (It’s how things work around here.)

We’ve been using the cloth bags for 3 months. They are so much nicer on your hands. They don’t cut into your flesh as you carry them around. They are stronger than plastic, and you don’t have to find a place to put all those plastic bags. The only downside is they affect the cashier-customer relationship.

I don’t interact with adults very often so when I go to the store, I expect a pleasant reception and maybe a little admiring comment about my little boy’s red hair. When I bring my cloth bags to the store, that’s all the cashier wants to talk about. Sometimes cashiers are noticeably bothered by the hassle. These cashiers alternately purse their lips, sigh audibly, and sometimes complain outright. One store gives me a 5 cent discount per bag. Here, the cashier says to me, “How many?” instead of “Hello, how are you?” I’ve had conversations about their pleasant pastel color, their depth (most cashiers say they are awkward), their strength (young bagging boys will load them so full I can hardly lift them), and oh, lots of other dull things.

Moving on to an equally dull topic, but one that affects my life, let’s talk about recycling.

We live in a town with 3 competing garbage companies. This is good for the prices, but in order to be competitive, our garbage company decided it needed to give us an additional recycling can… no charge! But wait! it’s 12 cubic feet of space that I no longer have in my yard. I crush boxes and milk cartons, I wash out cans and carefully monitor what’s recyclable and not. We went to a presentation about where our recycling items go. We learned that our recyclables aren’t recycled in town; they are SOLD to various recycling companies. That means I am working for the city!! I am sure my things are recycled after being transported by diesel engine across several states. However, I kind of resent the whole process and I’m not certain we come out any better off ecologically.

I’m not a fan of recycling, but I’ll do it. I guess I stand more firmly behind the idea of reusing and reducing. Here’s a photo of Daniel’s science fair project before we pulled off the papers so the board can be reused. I felt very Depression-era as I picked sticky things off two boards for 30 minutes. I didn’t do it for the paper. I did it for the money. That’s $10 I won’t have to spend next year.

And last, if you are still reading, I thank you for your time. I have a beautiful photo to share tomorrow.

It’s settled. It doesn’t take much to make my little boys happy.

A Big Event came and now it is over. I oversaw many things: chemistry, cinema, costumes, photography, tents, model building, cooking, advertising and bunting. I went overboard. Again.

Sticks, pine cones and friends provided the most entertainment today. It’s a wholesome and encouraging truth to be remembered Next Time.