Purple Pansies (and Yellow, and White)

My pansies are blooming. Not only that, but some pansies that I planted in 2007 are also blooming. For a reason that I can't explain, even with some modest research, I have a patch of pansies that I planted when Bernie was very sick. They bloomed last spring more vigorously than any I have ever had, and I have planted them for many, many years. Furthermore, they continued to bloom in the hot summer months, when most pansies dry up and say, "Enough." Last fall, when it snowed for the first time they were still blooming, and I thought they had set a record for being alive and flowering for a full 13 months.

I was very wrong. They are starting to bloom again, and they have more blossoms than the newer plants that were planted a year later. Perhaps they like the spot they are in. Perhaps they were particularly strong plants. Perhaps they are just weird.

These pansies have been the subject of my thoughts and many conversations with friends and visitors. Today they prompted me to write about them. There is a reason. They are part of the "spring thing." I also have dwarf iris and crocus blooms. They are in all the same colors as the pansies, so it looks good. I have tulips and daffodils and hyacinths poking through the dirt, and they will be next. They are also part of the "spring thing."

The whole message of spring is that no matter how cold, no matter how dreary, no matter how messy the winter has been; and no matter how long it lasts -- spring does come. Spring is about another season. Spring is about re-birth. Spring is about coming alive again. There are many metaphorical and psychological and pictorial lessons to be had. There are many spiritual comparisons to be made. You have likely heard them spoken of. You have likely read about them. You have likely witnessed them and thought about them. So have I.

The wonderful thing is this -- it's happening again, and it is equally wonderful (or maybe more wonderful) every time. Happy Spring! I think I will go out and look at my pansies -- and crocuses -- and dwarf iris.

FIFTY YEARS

I have been working for a few months as a member of the committee to plan and produce a 50th reunion for the Jordan High Class of 1959. It has been a lot of fun -- mostly because it has provided an opportunity to re-connect with a few people who have been good friends, but who have not been in my life so directly in recent years. Many of you know that sometimes when I try to say something it just "falls out" in light verse. Some people call it a talent -- I think it might be something like ADD, where my brain chooses to do something with little or no direction from me.

Either way, I have decided to post a little verse here that sort of sums up my thoughts on living 50 years past high school.

FIFTY YEARS HAVE NOT CHANGED ME . . . .

The last fifty years have not changed me.
The same thoughts still roll around in my head.
I still think the same things are funny.
And I still try to be well read.
Inside, I don't feel much different, UNTIL I CATCH A GLIMPSE IN THE MIRROR.

The last fifty years have not changed me.
I still laugh, love, cry, and have fun.
There are plenty of friends and family
To keep me still "on the run."
I am still the very same person, I think, UNTIL I STEP ON THE SCALES.

The last fifty years have not changed me.
The same things still make me afraid.
The same things still make my worry.
And I still wonder if I make the grade.
I think I'm still the same person, UNTIL SOMEONE'S CAMERA SHOOTS MY FACE.

The last fifty years have not changed me.
I still feel young and spry.
I really think I am not that much different.
But then what catches my eye
ARE THE BALD HEADS AND AILMENTS AND WRINKLES OF FORMER CLASSMATES I HAVEN'T SEEN FOR A WHILE.

The last fifty years have not changed me.
My health is as good as can be.
But I take a few more prescriptions
And when I filled out my medical history
I thought I was still the same person, TILL I SAW IT WAS THREE PAGES LONG.

The last fifty years have changed one thing, though.
Even though we remain classmates and friends.
We are getting more frequent reminders
That this life of ours eventually ends.
We read the obituaries and find our classmates memorialized there.

This part has no funny punch line. Together we can take just a moment to acknowledge that some of our class is not here today because they have died. Some very shortly after graduation and in the last year, more and more have passed on. This brings us to the relization that we really have lived much of our lives and it behooves us to take stock, ponder perspective, and count our blessings.

LESSON LEARNED

I have been doing a lot of soul searching for the last while, and it has made me a little despondent. I don't think it's depression, I am just having a reflective time and feel that my personal report card is not so great. Bottom line is that I'm feeling that everything that I'm really good at is not really important.

Examples: I am a really good speller (extraordinary). Hasn't seemed to matter to much in this life because most everyone around me doesn't notice one way or the other. I have a really good memory for numbers. Only thing that's good for was in the olden days when all the phones didn't have the numbers programmed in them anyway. I am really good at catching on to something the first time I hear it. That was only good when I was in school.

The things that really matter are things I am not so good at.

Examples: I am not, by nature, kind and compassionate. I try to do nice things for people, but it requires effort. Some of my role models seem to have an inate compassion that I have to work on. I am not very patient. My parents used to tell me that because some things are easy for me, I don't realize they are not equally easy to all. I have to work at this, too. I am not naturally humble. I also have to work on that, too. I think that it why I had such a wonderful husband. He was a good example of humility and I have him to emulate.

Bottom line -- is that I'm starting to worry. If I haven't acquired these traits yet -- it might be getting too late. I think I'll sign off and go work on being compassionate, patient, and humble. Big order, huh?

Farewell, Taylor (Missionary)

Taylor and his cousin from Idaho. Their missions will be back to back, and Taylor will come home 1 month after his cousin leaves. They are doing enough "extra visiting" to last for four years.




Taylor and Dad relaxing
. . . when only a few guests
remain





Arkansas
Missionary Bear





Well the countdown has started. Yesterday Taylor gave his departure talk in Sacrament meeting prior to leaving in 9 days for the MTC -- then in 2 weeks to the Arkansas Little Rock mission. He did a very good job -- even if I say so myself. Afterwards, he had a few of his friends and family (about 200 I think) drop by for "pot luck" Luck is what it took to find a seat. As I went in the house I noticed the Arkansas Missionary bear right away (upper right). Of course, there was food everywhere, because that's what families (especially Mormon families) do, and of course, Taylor's mom and her mom and her sisters were busy in the kitchen for most of the afternoon.

There were people everywhere. Devin (my son, Taylor's dad) indicated that their ward typically has about 110 in attendance. Yesterday it was more like 285-290. Lots of visitors -- a tribute to Taylor and how well he is respected. I am not a photographer, but I did catch a couple of candid shots that are meaningful, so I am posting a couple.

It is fun to have this special, family milestone in the midst of the other "stuff" that's not so fun these days.

"Year End" has ended.

Each January, I wonder why I ever became an accountant. Now, I am retired, but I'm still doing the accounting for two companies that I own with my son. That means that January is absolutely nuts! Every single "loose end" needs to be resolved. Every expense and revenue has to be cut off cleanly for year end. Several spreadsheets need to be prepared for the purpose of doing the dreaded tax return. W-2's need to be issued to employees. 1099's need to be issued to independent contractors. The old year's files need to be boxed, labeled carefully, and archived. New folders need to be made for the new year's files -- in this case about 350 folders labeled, tabbed, filed in order. The daily transactions have to be "posted" in the old year or the new year, depending on when they actaully occurred, and this gets a little strange. Then . . . as if it isn't crazy enough -- all the regular work just continues -- production, payroll, bank deposits, tax deposits, etc. etc. etc.

Oh . . . . I just remembered why I do this. 1) I actually like the detailed, precise nature of the work. 2) I couldn't possible let someone else tend my life's investment. 3) When I originally began to study accounting, it was one of the VERY few careers that paid women as well as it paid men. Inasmuch as I had four little "rug rats" to support -- without the aid of a spouse -- that was a good enough reason at the time. It turned out well. It gave me incredible experiences. I earned an adequate income (notice I didn't say I got rich). It opened doors for my opportunities in local politics, which was what I wanted to do from age 12, but never really thought I would. It was a stepping stone which allowed me to meet and work with some incredible local and state leaders, who have taught me a lot about government, about politics, and about what is important in my own personal life.

MY FAMILY . . . . (hint: not actual photos) (hint #2: Click on the picture to enlarge)

This is my small family. My large family, which includes Bernie's kids (4), Bernie's grandkids (18), spouses (17), and great grandkids (41) would either blow up my computer or blow up my brain while I tried to get them all in a drawing.

So, I just settle for this . . .

It reminds me of who is important. It reminds me of each little thing about each one that is special. I LOVE THEM ALL ! !

"FROM CUMORAH'S HILL"

Let me tell you about a truly incredible experience. It started to unfold in August, 2008 when our Stake President announced that to "culminate our reading of the Book of Mormon" the Stake would be producing and presenting a musical dramatization of "From Cumorah's Hill." Auditions were announced. People were called to direct, construct scenery, etc. Individual ward choirs began to learn the music that that would be sung by a grand chorus. I decided to participate. Eventually, the 8 ward choirs were consolidated into the chorus. A little over a week ago, the whole thing was put together for the first time in a rehearsal setting. Then, last week, full dress rehearsals were held Tuesday and Wednesday nights. The production was performed Thursday, Friday, Saturday evenings. It went so well and the Spirit was so strong. The message was of the Book of Mormon and the Restored Gospel. It taught, in a powerful way, that the words of the Book of Mormon apply to us today, even if we are young, even if we have strayed, even if we feel alone -- in fact especially if we are young, have strayed, or are alone. I am grateful to have been a part (though very small) in this whole thing and encourage you to jump at the chance if you are ever aware of this production being done in the future.