Postcard: A Grand Day

The Colorado Heroes

"The best thing about grandchildren is that they accept us, for ourselves, without rebuke or effort to change us. No one in our entire lives has been so loving: not our parents, siblings, spouses, friends, and especially not our own grown children." —A grandparent

"Every adult, abused by responsibility, worry, expectations and invisibility needs a grandchild."—Another grandparent

"They say genes skip a generation. Maybe that's why we find our grandkids so absolutely adorable. They take after us!"—Every grandparent

We're on a Cousin's Club tour.
Be back soon!

Lifesavers

♫ Search, Ponder and Pray ♫

My favorite way to start the morning is to wake up a few minutes before the alarm and just lay there and ponder. I think through my family list and remember (or wonder) what's going on with each one. Ideas start popping of how I can do what I need to do, and I pop up, too, ready to start.

When I was a little girl we always said a morning prayer. I still can't begin the day without one. I pray out loud (to keep my train of thought) and count my blessings. Then I outline what's on my schedule, and ask for specific things ("Help me say the right thing when I call Edith . . ." "Give me extra energy for the grandkids . . .") A prayer in the morning lifts my spirits, and gives me a desire to do something worthwhile that day.

During breakfast I search the scriptures for an encouraging nugget of wisdom that feels right to me. It's my soul food.

But mornings didn't always melt in my mouth. Sometimes they sucked.

"Mornin' time"

In my full-time motherhood days my early-morning routine was trounced by 2 am earaches and 5 am feedings. Hysterical arguing, giggling or crying replaced the alarm clock, and I rolled out of bed onto the daily merry-go-round.

The only time it was quiet enough to ponder was when I vacuumed up the spilled Cheerios, and I wasn't thinking kind thoughts. Instead of blessings, I counted seven lunches, seven backpacks and fourteen shoes. Sometimes we had a family devotional. But often I just recited a scripture after somebody said a prayer in the car as we drove to school. It was the McDonald's version of soul food.

Life has different flavors. Back then I was doing more and pondering less. Prayers were constant, but silent. I was gaining wisdom through experience—experience that has made my study now more meaningful.

Search, ponder and pray: three sweet, simple suggestions. And whether they are crunched in quick bites or savored slowly, they are lifesavers.

Stand Up and Be Counted

"The king was in his counting house . . ."

In the winter of 1085, King William ordered his servants to travel all over England and find out what he owned. It took them a year. Visiting each shire, village, farm and castle, they counted everything. They went back to the king and told him how many people lived in England (two million) and how many sheep, cows, horses, ploughs, pigs, fishponds and haystacks were in his kingdom. It was all written down in The Domesday Book, which still exists today.

The Domesday Book

The census form I filled out didn't ask anything about my fishponds or haystacks, but at least I got counted. I don't want to just be counted. I want to count.

I was standing at a Dillards counter behind a woman waiting to buy a skirt. A cashier was helping a teenage girl who had decided on a dress. She asked if she could put it on hold for a few days. "I can't hold anything longer than 24 hours," the sales lady said. The girl seemed very disappointed and explained that she didn't get paid until Friday, so she wouldn't be able to buy the dress.

Just then the woman in front of me spoke up. "I'll buy it for you." We all looked at her in surprise, as she said again, "Let me buy it for you." The girl quickly said, "Oh, no! I couldn't let you do that!" The woman said, "Please. I had a daughter about your age who was killed in a car accident last year. I'd love to buy her a dress. Let me do it for you."

The sales lady and I both had tears in our eyes as the girl hugged her new friend. It was such a sweet act, so unexpected and kind. She counted.

Other people can be counted on. Last fall Dee had a heart attack. After an extremely stressful day, the doctors assured me he'd be OK, so I drove home to have my break down in private. I had one before I got there.

Break-down

I was sitting in the left turn lane of a busy downtown street and the car died. Died. I guess death was after someone that day and settled for the car. It just conked out. It took me a few seconds to find the blinker lights, as people roared up behind me, honked like crazy, and yelled at me. Two guys even flipped me off!

I sat there, close to tears, wondering what to do. I couldn't call Dee for advice—he deserved that much of a break. My sons had definitely done their duty, tending kids, worrying all day, and visiting the hospital. But I ended up calling my son.

There were a number of strange types around while I sat there waiting in the dark, blocking traffic. Suddenly two guys knocked on my window. I assumed I was being car-jacked (it didn't occur to me that people don't car-jack cars that don't work.) They motioned that they'd push me out of the intersection. A couple of minutes later another scary looking but helpful man pushed me into a vacant parking spot. (Don't judge guys by their tattooed necks and pierced eyebrows.)

Pete arrived, and worked under the hood with jumper cables for a while, then crawled under his truck and my car, hooked us together, and towed me to a car repair place. There are people all around that I count on.

Motherhood

I admire those who have the courage to stand up and be counted. Abigail, a new mother, was a speaker at her law school graduation. She said,

"I look at the opportunities that it appears I have missed out on, but when I look down at my two-month-old daughter sleeping in my arms I am struck with the realization that there is nowhere in the world that I would rather be at this moment.

"I have already started my full-time post-graduate employment as a stay-at-home wife and mother. While this is not a typical job for a recent law school graduate in today's world, I can't think of a better use for my fine education than to apply it as I love and serve my family."

This is a woman who stands for something.
She'll make a difference—you can count on it.

*Homework:

~Write a paragraph that starts: "I can always count on________"

Anne Frank's Diary: A letter to my grandkids

Anne Frank, a happy 13-year-old girl.

Hi Heroes,

I want to tell you about one of my other heroes. Anne Frank lived with her family in Amsterdam while Hitler was running things in Germany. Hitler didn't like Jewish people, so he spread rumors about them and got people all riled up against them. His armies went to different countries and started tormenting Jews all over Europe.

The Jews were told to wear these yellow stars sewn to their clothes so people could tell who they were. Then, even if they were little children, people in the towns had permission to spit on them, trip them in the mud, push them down, kick them out of school. The Jews weren't allowed in restaurants, or public bathrooms, or movies, even though they were some of the most successful families in the neighborhoods. It became stylish to hate Jews. So almost everybody did.

When Anne turned thirteen she got a red-plaid diary for her birthday. She wrote in it that first day, and named it "Kitty."

"I hope I will be able to confide everything in you, as I have never been able to confide in anyone, and I hope you will be a great source of comfort and support."

This is the first entry in Anne Frank's diary, June 12, 1942 . She wanted to tell her new best-friend Kitty everything in her heart, even the stuff she couldn't tell her sister Margo, or her parents. She started writing in it every single day. Pretty soon it was all filled up, so she got new diaries. They were her pride and joy. She said she didn't feel scared when she was writing.

Anne had lots of reason to be scared. Her sister Margo was only sixteen, but the soldiers were coming to take her away to a work camp (it was really a concentration camp where they killed Jews.) Anne's parents took their girls to some hidden rooms above the dad's office in this blue building. They had to be perfectly quiet when the workers were there all day, and at night their friends brought them food and library books.

They thought it would only be for a couple of weeks but they stayed there a long time. Pretty soon, another family came, and then a man who was a dentist joined them in hiding. They had to stay there for two whole years, never going outside, always with the same people.

Anne wrote it all down in her dairy. She dreamed of having it published some day.

On a hidden radio they heard the news that the British and American armies were coming to save them soon. Every day they got more and more excited. Anne actually re-wrote her diaries so she could take them to a book-company and turn them into real books when she got out.

One horrible day, August 1, 1944, the Nazi soldiers discovered the family's hiding place in Amsterdam. The eight people who had hidden for two years were all arrested and sent to concentration camps all over Europe. Anne left her diaries in their hiding place.

The saddest part of the story is that they all died in the concentration camps. Anne, and her sister, her mother, their friends . . . all but Anne's father. After the war he went back to their hiding place and found Anne's diaries and read them. He remembered that she'd wanted to get them published so people would know what it was like to be Jewish during World War II, when Hitler and his armies were terrorizing and killing millions of Jews.

Anne's father, Otto, took the diaries to several publishing companies who all said "No." They thought a thirteen-year-old girl's diaries would be silly and unimportant. Finally, someone read one. He said, "This is an extraordinary document of the human spirit."

In her second-to-last entry she wrote,

"It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart."

Anne Frank

Tonight we watched the Masterpiece presentation of a new Anne Frank movie. It was so incredible it should be seen by everyone. It's a tender story, ultimately a sad story, but totally true and hopeful.

In this movie, Anne seems just like every thirteen-year-old girl and we see some of the normal family angst going on between teens and parents, all in close contact with other people who were living in intimate surroundings for two years without a break. The new movie is riveting and although I knew the end, I was caught up in it so much that I was surprised that they were found.

I cannot recommend it highly enough. I bought it so you can borrow it from Oma's Travelin Library.

The Anne Frank exhibit is in the Salt Lake City library right now as it tours the country, and it, too, is an absolute must-see for anyone over ten or so. We saw it in Amsterdam with our kids, and it is touching to see how the human spirit survives, and even thrives under horrific circumstances. It's an important history lesson that can not be lost to the next generations.

Here are some ideas for A Visit With Anne Frank. Grandparents, families, or friends could remember and learn about her:

1. Have a pajama party for eight people (sleep-over optional) in a crowded room. (There were eight people hidden in their small annex above the dad's office.) Serve a baked potato bar, and cabbage salad. (That's all they had to eat.) Serve strawberries for dessert. (Once they got strawberries for a special treat.) Each person could bring a sleeping bag (or a large quilt) plus a copy of "Diary of Anne Frank."
2. Have a game of tag outside and later talk about how the Nazi's were after the Jews, chased them down, caught them, and then hauled them off.
   
3. Tell the true story of the Holocaust using details that would be meaningful, but don't terrorize the kids you're dealing with. Go on-line for info, or just read and discover points in the diary.
   
4. Prepare some underlined parts of the book that are funny and human: what they ate, the cat getting lost, how she got in trouble, etc. When everyone is comfy on their pillow with their books, skip through and tell the story using Anne's diary and her more personal, humorous perspective.
   
5. Ask thought questions "What would you have done if you had to share your room with an old man?" "What if you couldn't go outside for two years." "Would you have been bugged by your parents, siblings, etc. if you never saw anyone else?" "How would you keep learning?"
   
6. Provide popcorn and then watch the movie.
7. Visit the exhibit in Salt Lake City (it's here until May) or whenever it gets to your town.
8. Present everyone with a diary and explain how important it will be for them to write about their life experiences, record thoughts, feelings, and even drawings.
   
9. Take pictures of each person, and send them each their photo with a quick note saying how they are a hero to you.
   

The Anne Frank exhibit is worth visiting and celebrating. It may be too mature a subject for the under-ten crowd, but I think it will open up a new world to everyone who sees it. It's a reminder of the faith and courage of children (and everyone) in hard times.

It also reminds us why it's worthwhile to write our life's story in a blog, in day-timers, in a scrapbook, in a diary, whatever, and the joy obeying this counsel brings to us throughout our lives.

Time Capsule

Is there a special dessert or meal that brings back memories to you for some reason? Serve it and tell about your memory.

Make a time capsule to open in a few years. Have everybody write a memory, stick in a photo or drawing and make plans for the big unveiling. Tell them you'll send invitations in five years, and put it on YOUR calendar so you'll remember to follow through.

Time Capsule

Most important, write in your journal. Describe your friends, the foods you like, the feelings, frustrations you have, your clothes or your hairstyle. Commit to writing about your life regularly. You're the only one who can do it.


I could finish this post with a bunch of ways a diary has made a difference for an individual or a family, but I see some hands raised already to share a personal story. Go for it! Everybody read the comments today, since they're part of the post.

Now, what did you want to say?

* Homework:

~Join in the class discussion, or write a post (tell us where to find it) on how someone keeping a journal has made a difference to you.

~Don't worry about catching up the last 5 months, (or 5 years.) Just pick up your diary and write about yourself today.

Thought Process

Hard thinking.

I can't write anything because I have so much to write. Do you ever feel like that? I've got a little notebook full of random thoughts I want to expound on, but I haven't had time to do any of them justice.

Notes piled on my desk are starting to yell at me. Unorganized pictures in iPhoto nag me; collected quotes, underlined in red and stacked on my bench, are losing their punch; the constant reminders in my day-timer are making me defensive. I feel henpecked by my blog, overwhelmed by my own expectations.

Many topics arouse my passion at the moment: new mothers, old mothers; new brides, old brides; new babies, old babies; health care, Obama; being rich, being poor. Posts on saloon girls and ghost towns and birth-order and portfolios and copywrites and insomnia are pulsing in my fingertips. But my brain is so crowded I can't find anything.

I need to sift through my jumbled thoughts, process what's worth keeping, and put the rest in storage. I can't write with a messy mind.

My Advice

Photo by Maurice Branger, 1925

"The true secret of giving advice is,
after you have honestly given it,
to be perfectly indifferent whether it is taken or not,
and never persist in trying to set people right."
---Hannah Whithall Smith

I have some advice:

1. If you want someone to take your advice, make them think they thought of it themselves.
2. Don't take any credit when someone follows your advice and it works.
   
3. When somebody asks for advice they usually just want validation.
4. Quote a more important source than yourself when giving advice. The people who know you well enough to ask you for it, don't respect you enough to take it.
5. When you ask for advice, don't immediately tell the person that you've already thought of that idea and it's a dumb one.
6. Only ask someone's opinion when you have time to listen to it.
7. Never follow up on the advice you gave, especially if it was unsolicited.
8. Surround any tiny speck of criticism with mountains of praise.
   
9. Take your own advice.
   
10. Remember, our opinions only matter to the people who agree with us anyway.

What's your advice?

Credentials

Some folks just look qualified.

Do you have credentials that prove your abilities? Or is your experience far beyond your training? What could you do with your expertise? I could:

1. Teach kindergarten
   
2. Write advertisements for hotels
   
3. Give marriage counseling to engaged couples
   
4. Teach creative writing to 10th graders
   
5. Present story hour in a library
   
6. Decorate a pediatrician's office
7. Create window displays for a stationery store
8. Analyze potential jurors for a lawyer
9. Compose poems for greeting cards
10. Be a life coach for empty-nest moms
    
11. Plan European ancestry pilgrimages
    
12. Rearrange closets for shop-a-holics
    
13. Coordinate scrapbook paper packets
    
14. Compile quotation books
15. Discover quaint cafes and shops for guide books
16. Make up jingles for commercials
    
17. Write an advice column
    
18. Organize bookshelves
19. Find forgotten places
    
20. Make book-mark kits
    

But without credentials, I'm not credible.
(Does that make me incredible??)

*Homework Assignment:

~List your incredible abilities.

~What did you want to be when you grew up?

~What would you advise a teenager to major in?

Ghosting

I'm ghostwriting a western.

It's not my usual genre, but I have fun writing anything! Here's the condensed version:

Girl falls for gunslinger—gunslinger ditches pregnant girl—girl marries hero—

hero and girl make good life, raise son—gunslinger comes after hero—

gunslinger's son saves hero.

(This idea could be a worth a quarter with a little effort.)

My client recorded his idea for the story on a digital recorder and hired me to turn it into a book. Since people don't talk in sentences, the word-for-word transcript starts like this:

"I want to, uh, tell a story, well I've got a story I, uh, want to tell, and, well, Jack Smith is a, well, he was a cowboy in Texas, and his training, I mean his job is training horses for the, uh, army. He trained horses for the United States Army in Texas. And he has this horse that's a beautiful, bright red color. He's a gunslinger, with a beautiful horse with a pure white tail."

~Step 1: Transcribe and format into paragraphs.

New and improved 5¢ version:

Jack Smith was a cowboy on a small ranch in Texas. Jack's job was to train horses so they could be sold to the US Army. Jack's horse was almost red. A pure white mane and tail stood out against it's shiny auburn coat. It was Jack’s pride and joy. All he had in his life was this beautiful horse.

Although Jack was very fast with a gun, he practiced whenever he could. He liked to shoot, but he was very fair. If a squirrel was on a tree, he waited until the squirrel blinked or gave some indication that it was going to move before he pulled his gun to shoot it. The same with a bird on the wing; he’d never shoot while it was a still target. A snake had to slither away before he took aim—any living creature deserved a chance. He worked on his skill as he traveled.

~Step 2: Go through 20 pages of text. Highlight work to be done.

Newer and improved 10¢ version:

Jack Smith was a cowboy on a small ranch in Texas. (Where in Texas? When? Describe Jack. Give a little background. Create authentic setting. What's the landscape in this part of Texas? Is Texas still a country or is it a state? Check history. Do we like Jack? Why or why not? Show don't tell.)

Jack's horse was almost bright red. A pure white mane and tail stood out against it's shiny auburn coat. It was Jack’s pride and joy. All he had in his life was this beautiful horse. (Are there red horses? Is it a male or female? What's it's name? Find out what you call female horses at various ages. Where did he get her? Why is she so special?)

~Step 3: Preliminary research for authentic details on:

clothing, saloons, horses, guns, geography, mode of travel,

distances, ranch life,Texas history, landscape, animals to shoot,

etc., etc., etc.

New 15¢ details:

1. Stephenville, Texas, founded 1856, 56 miles from nearest neighboring town, Erath County, Texas. Adjacent counties: Hood (northeast) Bosque (southwest, pronounced Bos-kee, 30 families in 1850, 56 miles away) The imaginary towns could be placed nearby.
   
2. Kick-a-poo and Comanche Indians nearby, not Apache or Navajo.
   
3. Arrival of Fort Worth/Rio Grande Railway in 1889, but stage coaches met the trains.
   
4. Lumber: hickory, poplar, ash, beech, timbered basins of the Trinity, Brazos, Bosque Rivers. Antelope, wild hogs, wolves, coyotes, and buffalo roamed the plains.
   
5. Stage coach stop, in Stephenville, day's ride (40-miles) on horseback from Bosque.
6. Names of drinks ("Tarancula Juice") and card-games ("Three card monte and Faro") popular in 1870's saloons.
7. Customers paid 75¢ for a 15-minute dance with a saloon girl. They bought her a drink for 75¢ but she was served colored water in a shot glass.
8. Saloon girls were called "Shady Ladies" or "Soiled Doves" although most of them were not prostitutes.
9. Texas cowboys always wore chaps made of goatskins with the hair left on to protect from cactus thorns.
10. Stagecoaches rocked instead of bouncing. There were usually 12 passengers who sat so close they intertwined knees for the whole 12 hour ride.

~Step 4: Write first draft:

New and vastly improved 25¢ version:

Jack had lived a man’s life since he was a boy of fifteen. Back then he had no trace of the dark shadow that haunted his face, even after a close shave, or the deep drawl that charmed women and intimidated men. When other Texans called him Smitty, he took offense, his left hand never far from the pistol he wore tucked in the front of his pants. “It’s Smith,” he snapped. “Jack Smith.”

Besides his quick temper, Jack was known for his fast draw. It seemed to be inborn. He couldn’t remember a time he wasn’t shooting snakes or squirrels, blue jays or black crows. It got so he even let them play his game. If a bird wasn’t flying, he kicked up some leaves to scare it off the branch and into the air before he brought it down. Jack was fair. He didn’t pull his gun on unsuspecting varmints.

Sitting astride his bright red chestnut horse, Jack was conspicuous when he rode through town. At six feet, three inches, with thick dark hair and glacial green eyes, he looked menacing. “Come on, Big Red,” he murmured, although she responded to his movements as if she was part of him. They’d been a team since she’d first tossed her pure white mane and gazed up at him as a foal. Her blue eyes were unusual in a horse without white face markings, but Big Red was unique in many ways. The striking filly was the only female Jack was faithful to.

I'm only on page 5 of this rewrite, with at least 50 to go.

Then we'll start the serious editing, fact checking, and final proofreading.

It could turn out to be a pretty good story!

I might be the next Zane Grey.

(I'm Zaney, don't you think?)

Fashion Show

Fuzzy ears

So, what is the chic bunny wearing this spring?

I went window shopping to find out.

(Idea from Fabulous Over 40)


Embellished tees,

Cropped cardigans,

Colorful sandals,

(These three examples gleaned from You Look Fab)

Bright bags.



As I was strolling, this group was trolling
(for a fashionista wannabe.)



The Fab Four accosted me in a hotel
and took me on a shopping spree.

"We'll fix you up," they promised.

I came home with:

A bib necklace,

A very long white skirt,
(this is pretty scary for me)



A bright bag,

Colorful sandals,
(For when it stops snowing.)


Me and Pete, 1981

And some ears.
(All the chic bunnies wear them.)


YOUR TURN!

~Describe a chic outfit for spring.

~Is there a fashion website you like to visit?

~Think of somebunny who could use a fashion makeover.
What's one piece of advice you'd give?

Life is Looking Up

"Look up."

"You've got a flat," the valet said. He got out of the car and pointed to the front tire which looked as deflated as we felt. Not the best news for a gang of girls on vacation. The tire guys dug out a nail an hour later. "You're lucky this didn't blow on the freeway. You probably ran over the nail a while ago, but it plugged it's own hole. If you'd stopped and the tire had cooled down, it would have loosened up sooner." Seven hours and six hundred miles earlier we'd said a prayer together, asking for protection on our road trip. We all glanced up gratefully.

"If you'd gone to Austria last fall, you'd probably be dead," Pete said when Dee celebrated his six-months-since-his-heart-attack day. Our trip to Europe had been scheduled for the exact time Dee was zooming through traffic in an ambulance for his life-saving surgery. Until Pete mentioned it the other night, we hadn't realized how blessed we were to be in the right place at the right time. Another thankful glance upward.

I'm so happy to know I'm in the Lord's hands. I love noticing His tender mercies, and wonder how many I don't even know about. How many accidents was I protected from this week? How many promptings did I receive last month? What events are already in the works as answers to prayers I haven't said yet? "I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me . . ." I need to spend more time looking up.

♫ When you're worried and you can't sleep
Just count your blessings instead of sheep ♫
♫ And you'll fall asleep
Counting your blessings. ♫
—Irving Berlin

Watch this youtube. It will remind you of reasons to look up.

Happy Easter!

Nobody got my joke.

I tried to be funny.

Guys—you didn't click on the link. I made a whole new blog and everything just for my April Fool's Joke and you all thought the contest was real and that I was really entering it, and you didn't hear me say "April Fool's."

Was it all a giant joke on me? Was I the April Fool??? It's OK . . . I don't feel bad. I just thought you'd think I was funny . . .

Winners!

Heidi 1981

Got all your eggs in a basket?

The Easter Bunny picked Shelley, Anneliese and Janie as winners in the Easter Egg Hunt yesterday. (Email me your names and addresses and your surprise will be in the mail soon.)

While I was hiding the Easter Eggs all over blogland last night, I ran across something you might be interested in (although I hate to give myself competition.)

There's a contest called Battle of the Blogs with a $1,000 prize for the best blog in several different categories: Best Daily Blog, Best Mommy Blog, Best Use of Photos, Best Craft Blog, Best Blog Layout, Best Business Blog and some others. You can submit different posts for any category you want to. You just email them a link to your blog before April 15th.

The awesome part is they're looking for unknown bloggers from across the country, and the winners will be flown to New York City for the Battle of the Blog Convention in October. Are you in? Let's try it! The link is here.