Take a hike

On Labor Day my mom decided we should all go on a hike up Stewart Falls, which leads to a beautiful waterfall. Unfortunately, everyone else had the exact same idea, so parking was limited and the hike to the trailhead added an extra twenty minutes or so. Even though some of us decided not to go the entire way I got a couple pictures of my family.

My step-dad, Terry

Little brother Louis

cutie pie sister, Anna

scientist brother, Josh

And it wouldn't be complete without cutie cakes Kevin

Flying high

One of the great things about being back in Kentucky was getting to visit with my half siblings. I was exhausted by them at every turn, but in the end I realized that hey, they're just kids and they deserve some time to be rowdy, crazy, and a little insane, because in a few years they wont be able to go back.

One morning, when I woke up Ilya came rambling into my room. Ilya is a splendid little fellow and I love to play with him. I remember going to Europe with him last fall and some mornings we would wake up early and go running. He was only 5 at the time and so his little legs couldn't really keep up, but he tried and I slowed down. It was a great way to explore, especially since things are so much more exciting when seen through the eyes of a 5 year old.

This time when Ilya rambled into my room I grabbed him up and read to him on the bed for a few minutes. I then had this great idea and below are the results.

Put the cheese in the cake

For my farewell and to double as a birthday cake, I made myself a cheesecake on Sunday. It was my sister's recipe and another sister's springform pan, but ultimately my masterpeice and completely delicious.

Birthday Blues

My eyes are kind of itchy. Sometimes that happens when I cry a lot.

My mom and I listened to a talk on tape about marriage the other day and this guy was explaining about how we need to communicate better. A family had hired him to come observe their family to see if there was any way they could communicate better and while he was sitting at dinner with them he noticed the grandpa. What this guy would do when he wanted something, instead of asking for it, was to just stare at it until someone noticed. When asked why he replied "it means more when you don't have to ask," or basically the equivalent. The speaker went on to discuss how this notion is way off base and we can't expect others to read our minds.

Most of the time, I understand that. Sometimes I deviate.

Like my birthday.

For most days of the year I am happy to give and to receive and to not get upset over stupid things. On my birthday I always expect people to say "Happy Birthday" without being prompted. I want to be pampered and princessed and remembered, but I don't feel like I should expect these things. So instead I wait for someone to say something, or, like this morning, if no one says anything after a few hours then I will say "mom, guess what day it is today!"

Then instead of saying "I'd rather not go on your errands, I have a headache and I really just want to sleep in" I say "sure I'll go with you" and then I am cranky while I am dragged all over tar nation so that my mom can pick up some random herb and return some dinky telephone device. And then when I feel like nothing is going how I had wanted, I cry.

Continuing my example, sometimes I just need to take matters into my own hands and plan things. Kev asked "what would you like to do for your birthday?" to which I replied that it didn't matter too much just so long as I was with him. I did, however, mention that I love going out to plays, museums, musical concerts, operas, and eating dinner out. I suppose what I should have explained is that it doesn't matter so much what we do so long as we do something and so long as I feel like it was planned in advance because then I feel like people care about me and remember me. I suppose instead of saying that I was fine with him taking a test what I should have said was that I knew he needed to, but it would mean a lot if he could make it up before or around noon, instead of 6pm. I suppose what I should have said is that I go crazy by myself.

Or something like that.

Doing just peachy

One of my favorite things about late summer is peaches. I love the way they look and smell and most of all the way they taste. I love the way that a ripe peach can just dissolve in your mouth leaving you with a desire for more.



This week when I was out exploring with Anna and Kevin we chanced upon a small local grown produce stand. It had splendid melons, peaches, apples, pears, etc. We arrive and the lady at the stand says to us "just wait one moment, I have to run around to the back and get some apples. I am wheeling and dealing this morning."

While we are waiting some other customers arrive and I overhear the following conversation:
lady 1: I wonder when this fruit was picked
lady 2: It says it was picked fresh daily, but considering daily is misspelled I'm not sure if you can trust it

I looked at the signs and realized that about every 5th word was misspelled, however, at a local fruit stand I wouldn't assume this as an immediate sign of discountability. Instead we waited patiently for the lady and Anna asked:
"I have $4, how much can I get?"
fruit lady: "2 each. 2 apples and 2 peaches or 2 apples and 2 pears"
Anna: "uh... " *thinking* $1 for a fruit! Outrageous
fruit lady: "they are 50 cents each"
Anna: "So doesn't that mean I can get 8?"
fruit lady: "No, because... oh, yeah"
Anna: "okay, thanks"

So we start to peruse the fruit and as we gently are picking them up and straight away putting them in our bags the lady looks straight at us and says:
"No... no... no pinching. No, no, pinching. You know, no squuuuuueezing." At this she makes squeezing hand motions and I choke on my laughter telling myself it's not polite to laugh in people's faces. Instead I nodded, turned around and bit my cheek as hard as I could and ushered Anna to hurry.

As we quickly finished choosing our fruit and went to pay the lady apologized for her being "out of it" by explaining:
"I've been the only one here all day and I've been up since zero dark."

Anna handed the lady the money as I had disappeared to the car to release a nice hearty laugh. And it is people like this that keep me sane, people who make me laugh.

Thank you peach lady. And maybe next time you wont have to wake up at zero dark.

Taking Care of Business

I have been in Kentucky for a few days now and I go home tomorrow evening. Was it worth it? Well, let's take a look at a few of my personal goals for this visit:

• See my siblings Ilya, Maria, and Julianna and Natasha my step-mom
• See my grandparents and record an interview with them concerning their life
• See MaryAnn Hack
• Go to the temple (either Nashville or St. Louis)
• Bring back something memorable

What I have done?

• Saw and played with and took care of and carted around and buckled up and pushed on the swingset Ilya and Maria while also getting to carry around the happiest baby on earth
• Sat and talked with my grandparents for hours, although I didn't have any sort of recording device
• Saw MaryAnn and helped her make a quilt, also ended up picking fruit with her like I used to. Also got to see John Hack and Lea Adams and JD Hack because I was with Mary Ann. While doing this I got lots of nice muskadines which I can take back to Utah
  
• Went to the temple in Nashville this morning with my dad which also allowed me to talk to him for four hours about life, his marriage with my mother and his advice on marriage, finances, life and health insurance, his various opinions, etc.
• Found a four leaf clover!

All in all, I would say it has been a success.

Some things never change

Although my Old Kentucky Home is a little bit older and there are a few more crayon marks on the walls, there are some things that never change.

• Trees are everywhere.
• The people are just as friendly as ever.
• The people are just as prejudiced as ever.
• There are run down houses and barns and stores more than there are ones in good condition.
• Everyone asks about how your family is, everyone wants you to make sure that you done tell your Mama that they done said hi
  
• "Yes ma'am" and "no ma'am" and, "Mama, you better slow down" sound just as polite and in place as they ever did
  
• There is no real politically correct Kentuckian, however, they love you no matter what they call you (especially the little downs boy across the street)
• There is a cloud of cigarette smoke at every public area (churches, stores, restaurants, gas stations, you name it)
• Gas prices are 60 cents cheaper than Utah
• It takes at least 20 minutes to drive anywhere you want to go
• Everyone owns/drives a 4-wheeler
• Girls dye their hair blonde, visit the tanning beds, wear skimpy dresses and put on 3 layers of make up to attract men who wear wife beaters, camouflage, and who talk dirty behind their backs
• The weather is unpredictable
• Everyone knows about everyone else's business
  

But boy howdy, look at how pretty it all is.




Some of my favorite MaryAnn sayings include

• Lea, you're sweating like a nigger telling the truth
• Becky, do you believe the Lord loves your Mama? I do, I believe the Lord loves you Mama. One year we done planted twelve DEAD tomater plants at your place and she done got them to sprout up and grow tomaters like they were prize winning plants. But this year we planted 90 nice plants here and not a one of em produced.
• *Retelling a story about her childhood* They called me Runt, I done forgot what they called t'other ones.
• I reckon I done spoiled him *her son JD* but I can't help it, can I?

Past memories gleaned from others

This week I am spending in Kentucky. It is odd though, because it is not the Kentucky I grew up in. Everything has aged, become run down, or else completely morphed. The friends who were my contemporaries are all but gone and I have been spending most of my time with people over 50.

I sat with my grandparents for hours. I have never really had a conversation with them, but I tried. I asked them about how they met (both of them worked in a Dime store). I asked my Grandpa about his war experiences and he told me a little about all of the neat places he had gone, including Manila, Okinawa, Iwo Jima, Shanghai, and much more. Memories that I had never been able to glean from them before.


I visited Mary Ann Hack who used to babysit me and who I spent more time with than anyone else in this world. I would spend entire summers over at her house, picking berries, grapes, vegetables, figs, and catching frogs. She's just as fun as ever. She needed to type up some stories of her brother and I wrote about her childhood as she retold it to me in the car.

I looked through hundreds of pictures belonging to John Hack that reflected his time on board a Navy ship in World War II, recent pictures, and everything in between. For hours he told me about one thing or another until I thought my ears would fall off from listening.


Lea Adams, the Korean lady who lives in Metropolis, was a special treat to visit. She showed us her garden and told us about stories of her son and then when I took down her pictures she expounded on all of her siblings and herself. She even tried to teach me some Korean, but it was slow going as she has had trouble writing and reading and moving ever since her stroke and her head injury years ago.


Joy Lawrence, Mary Ann's best friend who is more like a sister than a friend, sat with me and told me about her children and grandchild. All this, of course, while we worked to make a baby quilt and she offered me water (at least seven times).





I also learned quite a bit about myself when I was younger, which is always a treat, as I don't remember most of it. My grandmother reminisced about how I would always steal people's purses and run behind the couch. Mary Ann told me the story about how she befriended our family.

"I saw you," she said, "and you were just about the shiest thing I'd ever seen. You'd cling to your Mama and hide between her skirts and under her coat. When I saw that Cecilia done got pregnant again, I said to myself 'Now Mary Ann, you gotta make sure that this next child isn't like that. This next baby is going to be so full of spunk and brightness and joy that she aint ever going to meet a stranger'. And she just about turned out that way, didn't she?"

Mary Ann then told me all about how she spoiled Anna right to death. Everything had to be perfect when Anna came over and Anna was even named after Mary Ann. Anna was her special child and when all of us grew up, she didn't much know how to take it. Last winter Mary Ann was in the mental hospital as she had a mental break down and her husband has never treated her very kindly. Since then she has recovered for the most part, but you can tell that she has to keep a bright outlook and stay busy making baby quilts or else she gets awful sober.

Happy Birthday Josh

Monday was my brother Josh's birthday and so I decided to make him his favorite cake-- German chocolate with some almonds. Love that sort of thing.

End of an Era

I have been working for the Office of IT at BYU for three years. I have been working here since the first day of my classes at BYU and I can't think of my BYU experience without it. Although I wasn't too sad to end classes for a year and a half, leaving my job is a tear filled experience. I love the people, the environment, helping people on the phone and face to face. Everything about it, the experiences it has given me to grow and to learn and to become a better employee, a better student, and an overall better person. But since my mom doesn't want me to come back after my trip to Kentucky, then today must be my last day.



Good bye many long years of fun, fashion, and fones.

The fourth of Gorillas?

What is more patriotic than a Harley covered in sheep skin, saddle bags, and toting a gorilla topped trailer?

The answer: nothing.

Tahitian me Noni

A few weekends ago Kevin played piano at Tahition Noni. It was a beautiful performance and I got to wander around the gardens.

I decided that when I get back from my mission and especially when I am married and have some sort of land to my name, I want to have a beautiful garden full of trees, hidden benches and retreats and some sort of water source.

Doesn't it sound enchanting?

Kevin was also amazing on the piano.

Funny Face

Sometimes you just have to let loose, stuff your face with cherry tomatoes and let go.

Even if it seems a little scandalous.

Happy food

I love eating food. On Friday I invited my gorgeous friend Autumn over and we ended up making delicious food. Here are our left overs.

Does parsley just make you want to smile?



Kevin's plate wasn't nearly as happy to be finished.

Birthdays and Creativity

My co-worker found out that I like to decorate cakes so he asked if I would make one for his wife's birthday. He wanted pink cream cheese frosting with white icing for the writing. It was a lot of fun and I learned what not to do when making cream cheese frosting. I.e. don't melt the cream cheese beforehand, once you lose the consistency, it is gone. F-O-R-E-V-E-R.

Also, Kevin, with the best of intentions, made an entire bed of frosting leaves for the strawberries. I'm not sure how I feel about them, but they are good, just a little funny looking.

I bet Stephanie was so happy.

Did I mention that it is double layer cake and that I filled it with the cream cheese filling and cut up strawberries. Mmmm, I hope it tastes good. I probably ate at least a cup worth of frosting making this and if that is any indication, then it will be amazing.

Cutie for the pot

Sometimes I forget just how nice Kevin is. Yesterday though I was reminded why I like him so much.

I had to call my internet provider in order to cancel our service as they are charging us an arm and a leg and it is under someone else's name. However, it took a while to go through all of the explaining and transferring from office to office and so I took off my shoes while I was sitting in Kevin's car, kicking them onto the grass while I waited. When I finally finished I shut the door and we drove off to my next appointment.

We drove into the parking lot, I started to get out of the car, and low and behold, MY SHOES WERE GONE! I had left them in the grass and I didn't have time to both go back and get them and run this errand. So Kevin selflessly gave me the shoes off his feet and I walked around looking slightly like a clown until he brought me back my shoes. It was a wonderfully kind thing to do.


Then after my long day at work when I was tired and hungry, he came over with a load of my laundry that he had cleaned and beautiful flowers. He knows that since my floral design class that I have a love of flowers, especially exotic looking ones. So he brought me some myrtus, delphinium and a stem of orchid. Aren't they beautiful?

Autobiography 7: Pig tails

My hair and I have always had to struggle to get along. I am inclined to like it, I want to love the way it curls or the way it falls around my shoulders and the way it emphasizes my face, but it doesn't actually do any of those things, and it is ever so rebellious.

Exhibit A (I am the one in the front):



When I was little my mother would always talk about how it was a rat's nest, but much to my dismay, there never were any animals who came to make it their home (except lice every few years from school). She tried many tactics to get me to brush my nest, but my favorite was once when she bought me my very own brush and said that I could keep it if I would brush my hair until it was "as soft as a bunny".

I struggled with it in Middle School and often we became friends, but only because neither of us had anyone else. It would help me hide myself and I would retreat behind its stringy blonde locks. Like myself, I couldn't look at it too long before I felt ashamed. But it was just part of who I was.

Exhibit B:


In High School I said good bye to its length. Things look different when your eyes aren't blocked by hair. Your face has to make a name for itself and you are suddenly seen. It was a reverse Samson effect and I suddenly felt power, strength, and flirtatiousness flowing through me. And let me tell you, I was hot to trot. I wore cat ears, clothing purchased from D.I., scarves in the summer, ties, rain boots, and anything else that you can imagine. I was proud and my hair and I finally began to become friends.



It still has its rebellious days when it tries to tell me that it wants attention, maybe a hair cut, some product, or something else to keep it happy. But overall, I have learned to really enjoy my hair and what it can do for my face. Recently my favorite thing has been pig tails. It always reminds me of Penny from the Rescuers, which was one of my favorite childhood movies.


It made me want gingersnaps (which I had never had before) and it fed my desire for small creatures to live in my hair. So now every time I pull my hair back it is not just to get it out of my face, it is not just a hair-do, it is a memory. It is a return to childhood and a desire to be young again, but this time to do it right.

Let the Preparation begin

I have been preparing for my mission for a while now, but since classes ended this week and I took my last final last night, I can now really focus on mission things. I have already packed all my belongings into my room and am in the process of getting them in boxes for storage at my mother's house. I am quite excited and have been reading through Preach My Gospel, the D&C and also watching YouTube videos on the Korean alphabet.

Autobiography 6: A Few of my favorite things

I love a lot of things and the ever growing list is much to big to contain here or anywhere else. Periodically I will make a new list because I love making lists, here's one for now:

• Watermelon, mangoes, kumquats, Croatia, fruit in general
I have always loved eating sweet things and fruit is definitely sweet. On my trip to to Eastern Europe I spent the most enjoyable moments of it gallivanting around looking for fruit trees. My step-mom Natasha understands my love of fresh things and would often make my dad pull off to the side of the road so we could pick pomegranates and olives. (Fresh olives are NOT on this list)

• budgeting, finance books, conferences on money
Something about money and reading about money and talking about money is just titillating. I think a lot of it has to do with how infrequently any of that happened growing up and how little any of this ever happened. I suppose now it is more like a hidden art that I love to learn and to budget and to plan is just exciting.

• taking typing tests and getting paid
While at work one morning one of my coworkers showed me this neat online free typing test and somehow it became really addicting to type things and to try to improve my typing abilities. It also reminds me of just how often I use the back space button, it is definitely my best friend. If I am allowed to use it, I can get pretty good accuracy on things, otherwise I am basically doomed. I also participated in a study where they had us do typing tests and we got paid more for the faster and more accurately that we typed. I got $14 out of a possible $15. Not to brag, but I've got skills.


• going on road trips with good music
There's nothing like an open road with an open bag of snacks and some good music playing in your ears. It's like a movie with accompanying sound track, except, you're IN IT. When I read "Xen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" I remember how the narrator lamented the fact that most people when they go on road trips don't really experience it. He likened driving in a car to watching a movie, although you are driving past things, it is still so disconnected, seen through a square box, without you feeling the wind or the bugs or the proximity of your body to the road. When I go on road trips though, I roll down the window and I let it all in then I blare the music and let it all out again.

• hammocks
One summer when I lived in a house without air conditioning (which has actually happened every summer since I've lived in Provo) I found out that hammocks are a joy. I would go out and sleep in it at night and I loved it. Of course, some how it would always get freezing cold and then the strings would dig into my back. Hammocks though are a great joy, they are like swings, but for adults.


• otter pops
I am addicted. There is no other way to really explain this. I once bought a box of 500 and by the next day there were only green and purple left (I don't eat green and purple). Basically this means that in the course of a day I had somehow consumed at least 450 otter pops. It was amazing. I still don't know how it happened.

• the smell of water on the pavement
Growing up, I loved playing in the rain. There is something very comforting about warm water pouring down over you while you lay down and let it soak all in. Also it means that you can stomp around in the mud and let it squish between your toes and not even worry about it. So now to smell water on pavement brings me back to my childhood and is very nostalgic.

Laughing, but not sleeping

People are not pokeman, you can't catch them all. But sometimes I revert to the antics of a 6 year old and all I want is more. I can't decide so I hold on to everything with all I have. Give it up? Never.

Autobiographies 3, 4, & 5: Croatia and my father

I have never had an ideal relationship with my father. I’m not certain anyone who has so many kids can really have a magnificent relationship with all thirteen of his children, but to add to this, my father works a lot and I only ever got to see him on weekends growing up or after my parents divorced I would see him during the summer. I suppose the fact that he is very analytically minded and has never been able to relate to my terribly emotional self doesn’t help. Even after all of this, I think I could have found myself easily loving and idolizing him because of his intellect and stalwart spirit, except for the fact that ever since I was very young my mother and he did not get along and she had always led me to believe that he did not really love me, he was only fighting for custody because he disliked her so much.

Children believe a lot of things and with nothing to contradict her (like I said, he was never really home and he never reached out to me when we were together) I continued hating my father for a very long time. About the time that I was 16 I moved to Utah and I began to really forgive my father. I still am not entirely certain if he did the things my mother claimed that he did or if he even knew how much I hated him, however, I finally was able to forgive him inside of me. Forgiveness is funny in the way that once you fully forgive you realize that you were the one being hurt and not necessarily because of the actions of the other person, but because you were holding onto bitterness inside.

It wasn’t easy, it took a lot of praying and crying. I never said “I forgive you” to my father, he may not have known what he even needed forgiveness for, but I forgave him anyway. I forgave him for the years I felt inadequate and the years I thought he was calling me fat. I forgave him for the years of my childhood when I felt like I was running away from him. I forgave him for all the pain I felt at him not loving me.

I began to call my dad. Now that we were hundreds of miles away, I only saw him occasionally on holidays and rare visits so I took it upon me to call him a few times a week. My dad isn’t the best at keeping tabs on his children, so I am convinced that had I not called him I probably would not have heard from him at all. However, through these bi-weekly phone calls I began to learn about my dad. My dad doesn’t talk very much about his feelings. He doesn’t really talk about himself at all. Asking him how he has been doing is like pulling teeth, he would rather talk about everything and everyone else before he begins about himself or how he has been feeling. My dad has a lot of goals and he feels fully capable of fulfilling them even as he gets older in age including: visiting every country in the world, creating a dream house in the middle of Kentucky that is modeled after the European style houses with accompanying bed and breakfast with little cottages from various European countries, taking all of his children on an out of country trip, etc.

The most revealing two experiences for me though were once when I was 15, just about to move to Utah and then later when I was 20 and had agreed to go to Eastern Europe with him.

When I was 15 ½ my mother decided that she would take me and my two younger siblings and we would transplant ourselves from Possum Trot, Kentucky to Spanish Fork, Utah. She had received this location through prayer and Anna, Louis, and I were ecstatic about the decision as we had wanted to move since I was in the 3rd grade. My dad was against the decision and my mom fought for a while to finally get him to let us to leave. He finally agreed, but we had to stay with him in Kentucky until the end of the summer. One day he took Anna, Louis, and I up into the play room upstairs where he had a large list on the board. Labeled on both sides were pros and cons of being in Utah versus Kentucky. He sat us down and droned on about school systems, housing conditions, socioeconomic status, spiritual progression, family ties, and everything else that may change with our location.

Set on my decision to leave, I sat with arms folded, determined to prove that Utah was by far the superior in quality and that staying in Kentucky would be a detrimental damn to my progression in life. And then as we reached what I deduced to be the conclusion of the lecture, my dad turned around with tears in his eyes and said something to the effect of:

“And still, none of these things would really matter if it was where you needed to be. But the biggest thing I am worried about is that you will be away from me and I will not be able to see you. I’m your father, I love you.”

The tears. The sincerity. The way he exposed himself in that instant hit a chord in me so violently that I began to shake and then to cry. I could feel my heart ripping from my chest. How could I be so cruel and so judgmental? How could I possibly have be so callous as to think that this man didn’t love me. He was my father who had sacrificed so much of his life in order to earn enough money to support us. He was the man who spent countless hours in the summer building houses so that we could learn the meaning of hard work. He was the man who was intelligent enough to have done anything in his life and yet he decided he would rather have children than wealth.

At that moment I was more confused than I have ever been in my life, I had no idea what to do and I felt a wall breaking. The wall of hatred that I had built against my father had sprung a leak and from that moment, although I still moved away, I have tried to learn to love my father.

Another revealing moment was in Croatia, coincidentally enough. My father had offered to pay for my tickets to travel to Europe with him, my step-mother, Natasha, and my two half siblings Ilya and Maria who were 5 and 3 respectively. I jumped at the opportunity even though it meant spending $300 on plane tickets to Kentucky and missing 2 ½ weeks of school, which can be detrimental in college. Little did I know what I was really getting myself into.

After a very stressful 24 hour commute from Nashville to Budapest, I was on the verge of killing my father. I had been put in charge of chasing little children through the airport and staying up with them almost the entire time. My father, on the other hand, is not exceptionally good with small children (which is odd considering how many of them he has had). While Natasha and I were irritated and fed up with this so called vacation, my dad had slept almost the entire time for both of the international plane rides we had been on. I began to realize how hard it had been for my mother raising 9 children with a husband like my father. He has a hard time relating to the hardships you are feeling and although he feels very sorry for you when you explain about how difficult it is, he doesn’t step in and help out. He is also more likely to let a kid run into the street than to sit on his lap and he can’t stand crying.

Needless to say, I was not feeling particularly inclined to be with him, however, when we reached day 4 and 5 of our trip we stopped at a pleasant city called Dubrovnik in the south of Croatia. This was affectionately called the “Jewel of Croatia” and as soon as we entered it we knew why. It was a beautiful ancient city encased in a pre-medieval castle on the coast and speckled with fruit trees and sailboats. Natasha and I quickly realized that this was no place for children as they spent the majority of their time running into tourists as they chased pigeons. In an effort to restore sanity and keep the children happy and occupied, Natasha and I traded shifts and while one was with the kids at our apartment the other would be out with my dad.

During this one on one time with my dad I asked him “Dad, why did you become a member of the church?” My father had grown up in a Catholic family where everyone back to our ancestors in Ireland had been Catholic. The strength of his testimony which he then bore and the story of his life which ensued made me marvel.

He told me about his ambitions when he first came to college and how he had met a lady who had included him into her family and through her he had joined the church. He told me about his first love and their engagement and how they had spent time with each other every day during the school year, but as the year came to a close her parents came to pick her up and when he went to see her she came down with a box of everything he had given her, handed it to him, and declared it was over.

He told me that he took the box and cried. He was so disoriented and heartbroken that he just wondered the streets crying until he finally collapsed and just continued to sob. He was finally picked up by an ambulance because a police officer tried to talk to him and he didn’t respond and he assumed the tear stains on his pants were from him wetting himself so he thought something had gone terribly wrong. I knew the heartbreak he told me about. I knew what it felt like to have love ripped out from underneath of you and to have the one person you felt truly connected to turn you away.

When he told me about joining the Navy because he didn’t want to get drafted, it was a world I could hardly imagine. His friends would get drafted and every day was just another chance that you too may leave never to return again. One of his best friends left for Vietnam and when he returned he was just a remnant of the man he had once been, returning with both legs and all of his spirit gone. He joined the Navy because they promised that he would never actually see battle, he instead became a nuclear weapons instructor and married my mother.

To retell all the stories he told me would take another evening and another Dubrovnik to do it justice. But it was then that I realized that somewhere, in some part of me, he was a hero. Transitioning from a villain to a hero is not an easy thing to do, but he had done it and although I still do not always understand him, I will always love my dad.

Autobiography 2: Fears

Ichthyophobia:I have always had this odd fear of fish. I am not entirely certain why as I have never been attacked by a fish nor have I probably been within biting distance of a fish, however, their scales, their mouths, their lack of arms or feet, has always scared me. Give me a bug, give me a snake, give me a poopy baby and I will be fine, however, something about fish.

According to Wikipedia: "Ichthyophobia is a variety of a specific phobia which is an intense and persistent fear of fish, described in Psychology: An International Perspective as an "unusual" specific phobia. Both symptoms and remedies of ichthyophobia are common to most specific phobias."

Acrophobia: Although it sounds like being afraid of acrobatics, it is actually the fear of heights. Personally I have a devil-may-care attitude towards slightly risky behaviors (hanging out of windows, climbing random buildings, etc), however, I cannot stand to watch other people do things like this and I especially dislike seeing people get too near the edge of high objects. Once when we were in San Francisco, I went to the San Francisco Bay bridge with my friends Cami and Dave and my brother Josh and when Cami climbed on the rail I couldn't take it and started to feel sick. Of course this reaction only encouraged her and so I had to turn away and start running back towards the land where I couldn't see her. She didn't end up falling and I was definitely more effected than she was. I'm not sure what brings this on, however, my friend Kevin surmises it has something to do with my motherly instincts and the fact that when I see other people in potentially dangerous situations I feel like I have no control whereas when I am there I can control the situation.

Iatrophobia and Phonophobia –Although I don’t really have a fear of doctors or telephones, these two were the closest to the fear I feel towards calling doctor’s offices. I think this reverts back to my issues with control, but I will do pretty much anything to avoid having to call a doctor’s office (or any office) to set up an appointment. I once had my co-worker call to set up an appointment, just because I was so afraid. Doctors themselves are quite intriguing and once I’m in the office I really like looking at the various vaccination and disease posters. I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that I never went to the doctor growing up, my mom always gave us homeopathetics and a slew of vitamins whenever we would get sick. Although I was always dubious of this method of treatment, I always faithfully swallowed my 6 vitamin C, Echinacea, garlic, and mysterious green sugar covered Chinese pills. Once I started attending BYU though I decided that I would eat plenty of fruits and vegetables and get exercise and when I got sick I would rest and let my body take care of itself. This worked great until I wanted to go on a mission and I needed to call a doctor’s office to set up an appointment and for some reason, maybe because I had never done it before or for whatever reason

Porphyrophobia- This is the fear of the color purple. I actually do not have a fear of the color purple, I do, however, have a great dislike of artificially flavored purple items. I think part of this reason is that they try to imitate “grape” taste and I like grapes too much to think that this pathetic excuse for an imitation is actually good. This carries over mostly into otter pops and all candy. Although when it comes to candy I am usually very particular: i.e. I only eat skittles and M&Ms in matching pairs (red & green, blue & orange, etc), I only eat pink and red starbursts, I don’t eat most American chocolate because I am a chocolate snob and I like hazelnuts too much, etc. It’s not something that I have to do, it’s just the way I do things.

Autobiography 1: My hero, my brother, Jon

In my family history class we are to write at least 5 autobiographical stories of 500 words and when I was trying to limit myself to 5 significant instances in my life, I can't help but think of the time with my brother Jon. I suppose I could talk about the numerous moves from state to state, the divorce, the flee, the heartbreaks, or any number of things, however, those things that have effected me most are the small instances where life really reveals itself.

As 7th child in a family of nine, I was often left to myself and in order to get attention I really had to try to either do things right or do things wrong. One week during our family home evening, I remember being very offended because my parents were honoring those who had done their chores that week and although I had laboriously fulfilled ever task given me, I was not mentioned. Expecting someone to notice my disappointment, I stormed out of the room in a huff and slinked into the kitchen.

In my 6 year old brain, I assumed that everyone around me could feel the injustice and would come running to me to console me. I was prepared to deny them all and I sat with arms crossed under the kitchen table waiting for them to beg my forgiveness. As time passed, I realized that once again I had gone unnoticed and that no one was coming for me. Reality that no one had probably even noticed that I had left or that I was upset began to seep in on me and I began to cry. I sunk my head and began to sob quietly to myself, becoming so absorbed in my feelings of depression and disappointment that I was oblivious to my brother Jon who had snuck into the kitchen carrying a CD player.

Jon is two years my senior and had always been my idol. He could do things that only boys can do and every time we wrestled he seems to out maneuver me and win. Jon could climb trees and had friends everywhere, but always seemed to consider me as more of a pest than a sister. So as he plugged in the CD player and began playing church music it was a bit of a shock. Not enough of a shock to make me look at him directly, but just enough to cause me to notice him. Next he went to the fridge and pulled out a packet of sliced meat.

If you have never lived in a large family with a small budget, you have never learned to really appreciate food. In our house commodities like fruit, vegetables, and pre-sliced meat were usually devoured within minutes of their arrival from the grocery store and if you had any hope of salvaging an apple you would have to hide it under your pillow and hope no one found your secret stash. So, as you can understand, it was surprising that he had found this jewel and without a word he opened it up, sat it between us, and then just sat there next to me. If he had tried to talk me out of my sadness or tried to surround me with his arms, I probably would have brushed him off and given myself more justification for my feelings. However, this simple act of love, showing that he was there and that he cared, caused my to feel infitestimaly better. Soon my sobs turned into sniffles and my tears stopped flowing.

But the most touching part of it all is that when I was done I looked over at him and he was crying. This act of unselfish love, of knowing exactly what I needed, and somehow being able to take my tears upon himself, that has stuck with me. Whenever I think of Christ as a brother, I think of Jon in that moment. Christ's willingness to sacrifice himself for our happiness and his ability to love us was more real to me in that moment than it ever had been before and will always stay with me.

I want babies

Lately I have been baby hungry, thanks to lovely little children like this.

I look at their little eyes and hands and feet and I just can't help but love them instantly. It's funny how children can have that effect on us, isn't it? Something about their small features, their helplessness and their ability to cling to anything or anyone. Maybe it is just the joy they find in life and in the simple things, new discoveries await them at every turn.

I probably just need to babysit and it will get it all out of my system for a little bit, but until then, I WANT A BABY!
Speaking of families, I have been working on mine and putting together my family line using new.familysearch.org, it is an amazing tool and it helps you link everyone together, which is really neat. The more family history I do, the more I want to do. I think I will be gathering my sister Sara's information from her soon and then hopefully verifying all this information that comes from who knows where.

Wedding Flowers

For Cami's wedding I got to work with all the flowers to make corsages, boutonnieres, bouquets, and centerpieces. I already posted what the wedding bouquet looks like and then it was just a basic rose/petal bout. The centerpieces were fun, they were Cami's brain child, but ended up being very simple, elegant, and beautiful. It was just a few roses in a vase with some river stones. These vases were then placed on top of a mirror, doily, and a piece of scrap booking paper. Voila, beautiful.

Wedding Cakes

With all my work with fondant, I have had a lot of fun making cakes like this one for Cami's wedding. Here we just have a basic double layer 9" circumference chocolate cake covered in my wonderfully simple marshmallow fondant recipe that I borrowed from my sister Susan. At the bottom you see the double ribbon which adds a hint of color and texture. Then, of course, there is the cake topper with the love birds and some beautiful roses and mint flavored decoration balls.


Here you see the cupcake tree, decorated by Cami's cousins and the cupcakes created the night before with the help of Carin, it takes a while to make the frosting and considering how much we put on each cupcake, it took a very long time, however, it worked out well and looked Be-a-u-tiful.

Marshmallow Fondant Recipe (by Manny Ramirez)

• 16 ounces white mini marshmallows (use a good quality brand)
• 2-5 tablespoons water
• 2 lbs icing sugar (please use C&H Cane Powdered Sugar for the best results)
• 1/2 cup Crisco shortening (you will be digging into it so place in a very easily accessed bowl)
  

1. Melt marshmallows and 2 tablespoons of water in a microwave or double boiler: Put the bowl in the microwave for 30 seconds, open microwave and stir, back in microwave for 30 seconds more, open microwave and stir again, and continue doing this until melted.

2. It usually takes about 2 ½ minutes total. Place 3/4 of the powdered sugar on the top of the melted marshmallow mix.

3. Now grease your hands GENEROUSLY - palms, backs and in between fingers, then heavily grease the counter you will be using and dump the bowl of marshmallow/sugar mixture in the middle.

4. Start kneading like you would bread dough. You will immediately see why you have greased your hands.

5. Keep kneading, this stuff is sticky at this stage! Add the rest of the powdered sugar and knead some more.

6. Re-grease your hands and counter when the fondant is sticking. If the mix is tearing easily, it is to dry, so add water (about ½ tablespoon at a time then knead it in). It usually takes me about 8 minutes to get a firm smooth elastic ball so that it will stretch without tearing when you apply it to the cake.

7. Its best if you can let it sit, double wrapped, overnight (but you can use it right away if there are no tiny bits of dry powdered sugar). If you do see them, you will need to knead and maybe add a few more drops of water.

The Wedding Planner

My friend Cami got married last week in the Draper temple and I helped with... pretty much everything. It was a lot of fun though to decorate cupcakes for the cupcake tree, put together the fondant cake and arrange plenty of flowers.

The happy couple looking hopefully into the future.

First kisses! Well, not exactly, but you have to have the veil photo.

The happy family. Notice the redhead on the far left, refused to smile. Oh well, what can you do?


Here you can see some of the preparations for the reception that Carin and I (along with a few others) participated in. 10 flower arrangements, 190 cupcakes, 200 cucumber sandwiches, corsages, boutonnieres, bouquets, etc.

It was wonderful and I am so happy for Cami. I love her and Dave and I know that they will live a long happy life together.