Random Thoughts

A ring on her finger! Gorgeous one too:)

The Relief  Society Presidency I serve in...

My first grade teacher-that I just learned  her  first name: Evelyn

My parents with all nine kids- in "virtual reunion" (I'm the eldest)

Open Any Door

I'm so happy to say that I've met Brother Dan Whitley!  He's the author of the music: Open Any Door...and the director of Dan Whitley Music School.

When I as little, my dad played this record for us over and over for Family Home Evening. I truly believe that

 this music (and Saturday's Warrior) helped to shape my understanding of what the gospel really means to me

in my life. So, when I called Dan to get his address and find his music studio...I was really more like a band groupie! (Yes-Eric, your right). My heart was pounding and my hand shook as I held the camera. I was determined to shake his hand and buy a CD for my dad though. His birthday was last week...and I needed to find him this gift.

I was so surprised at how close by the music studio really is to me, now that I live up here in the Salt Lake area. I read all about Brother Whitley on-line and looked at the youtube video's on his wall. The record album

picture was familiar and I wanted to know, just which of the three men on the cover was Dan Whitley? *He told me the middle guy holding the guitar. I had emailed him earlier and told him that if he saw a little Eskimo woman driving a brown mini-van near his street...THAT was me! He shook my hand when I walked in, and he asked me where I was from? I told him Alaska and he said he had friends in Anchorage.

We sat down and he played the piano and sang...and it took all my energy to not cry! It was so amazing to be listening to nostalgic songs from my childhood and singing with the man who wrote them. I let him know that I've been a HUGE fan since the early seventies. My Aunt Linda, who had lived in California (till her early death from cancer) had given our family this record.

The band had been formed there in California, and Dan says the song ideas came from teaching Sunday School. These were the words and thoughts that they shared in lesson plans taught in class. That makes so much sense! These songs explain the gospel in a real contemporary musical way...catchy little tunes that stay in your brain. I want my kids to appreciate the songs and answer the questions in there own lives. "Who am I? Where did I come from? Who am I? Where am I going?". I'm linking these songs to another web-page...so you can hear the tune for yourself-just click and play. It would be so wonderful if this next generation could see the beauty to this music also.

Until then, I'll play my autographed CD in my car as I drive along the streets, and hope that my six year old learns the tunes like I did,  when I was little too. Thank you Aunt Linda and to my dad also for noticing a very valuable piece of music.  I feel "Joy, joy...real joy!".

My Top Favorite Past-Times

I loves pears-so my kitchen has LOTS of them

I'm a collector. I have certain things that make me happy and calm inside...like my initials-I collect letter D's. As I sit here in my dining room, I can see a few of my favorite things...I'm "GOOGLE-ing" the pictures so that I don't have to find my camera:)

My Grandma collected Ethan Allen furniture-and I inherited most of it:)

My sisters buy me teapots-so I love my tea pot collection

My Grandma collected nesting dolls-so I now collect these dolls also

I love flowers-so when I see silks...I buy them to arrange later

My mom had a Fenton Silver-Crest bowl in our kitchen-so I now do also in my hutch (lots!)

I owned a preschool for seven years-and still hang on to my favorite books & toys

I know this is excessive...so I need to find other ways of feeling good about life. My kids will have so much to carry off when I die. But I suspect most of it will go off to the second hand store. Maybe my grand kids will enjoy these treasures also one day! Funny what a person can collect in one life time.

Words to Live By

As a child, I grew up with my mother sitting at a typewriter. She was an English teacher at the community college in Alaska. A few nights a week, my mom would go out and teach classes, while my siblings and I would spend the evening with my dad or a babysitter. I loved spending time with my dad, but the babysitters were tons of fun. I believe this schedule lasted until I was almost ten or eleven. Then, I became the babysitter for my five younger siblings (eventually eight younger).

Why would I want to tell you this? I'm not sure. I have been reading biographies and true stories all month though. As, I'm reading these books, I think to myself: "What would you say about YOUR self?". Who are you, Dolly? Inside, my brain knows exactly who I am. Putting it all down on paper(or a computer screen)-is another story. If I had known as a little girl- that I could write my own story out later, I would of had lots to say outloud...and I would of been surprised that I had the power to say anything I wanted. I know that my "typing teacher" would be stunned that I would later, enjoy typing up words every day. Not a care in the world as I type. i can use poor punctuation and spelling-and nobody cares:) Ha!

I read an article today, stating that blogs are boring and going out of style. I, personally, do not believe this to be true. I love reading about other people's lives and what makes them tick. It's fun to see how similar in life our talents or challenges may be. I like different styles of writing and the more descriptive-the better. Words to me, can be as addictive as food. I like the sounds and the feel as I write them out. I have flamboyant handwriting-with big curls and perfect angles.

Some words make me cringe, while others calm my soul like music. I can remember my mom saying that a person who refuses to capitalize the first letter in their name-has serious personality flaws (She's a perfectionist). I have a hard time now, allowing myself to text words without punctuation or capitalization. Funny, huh?

I just mentioned to my daughter, that I can write out words and whole sentences backwards. I grabbed some paper and wrote out her name with speed and accuracy. She was surprised and decided to practice this new trick herself. I've noticed also that she has her grandmother's love for writing out long lists. My little girl is very organized and skilled with lightening-speed color coding and category making columns. I like to be set-up with style...but nothing too restricting.

A list to me means MORE work. So, I run when I see a list... My world is free from heavy schedules, demanding chores, and endless non-sense. I like simple days with decorating and reading about other people's worlds. My children like this too. It JUST feels so good to be me these days.

Family Means Everything...

My second younger brother came to visit my family! He looks very happy-and we had fun catching up again... *Sure missed him:)

"Being pretty on the inside means you don't hit your brother and you eat all your peas - that's what my grandma taught me"  ~Lord Chesterfield

Happy Fourth of July

Howdy Everyone!

We've had an amazing weekend with family reunions, parties and a friend's funeral. I received a facebook message from a long-time friend from Oklahoma. She asked me if I had seen the Salt Lake Tribune news with our friend's obituary listed? (I was standing upstairs with my mom and dad at their house). We all knew that this friend had suffered many years with cancer-so, it was such sad news, but we know that he is not in pain any longer. Brother Pat Brian had been our neighbor in Alaska many years ago-when I was in junior high. Brother Brian had also been our stake president then too. After my parents moved us to Tulsa, OK in the eighties, President Brian had been called to be the Mission President of the Tulsa Oklahoma Mission. My family was thrilled to be reunited with his awesome family! We spent more time at the mission home than our own place on the holidays:) We'd go camping together and travel to hear him speak at firesides.

When their mission was over, my brother and I were invited to travel to Florida with their family of six kids (to visit Disney World). We camped out the whole way-and were eaten alive by mosquitoes...which reminded us of our days Alaska. But it was all worth the discomfort, by the time we reached Disney World...we felt like we were in heaven! I loved "Canada" in Epcot Center the most...and spent a whole day wondering the villages alone. It all was a welcome vacation since I was the eldest of eight kids then-and had very little time that I wasn't babysitting for my siblings or neighbor kids for money. To me, the Brian family meant fun times. It was such an honor to have that bonding time with them.

Amazingly, the same brother that went with me to Florida, has been here in town with his family from Israel. He works for GM and is here on vacation with his family. We had a week together down in Cedar, and when we heard of President Brian's funeral...we decided to pick up our daughters early from girl's camp. We needed to attend this funeral in Draper. We had to be there on time at ten a.m. with our sister and our parents.

In one day, I drove an hour up the canyons to get my daughter and niece, brought them to my mom's house to change-and we left again to drive north to Salt Lake. My hubby had been working all week up north, so it was wonderful to see him again also. We left our kids at home and went to the funeral-up by the Draper Temple. I had only hoped to see our friends from across the room, but my parents and sister insisted on seeing the Brian kids in person. I saved seats in the chapel for us to sit on (The room was packed clear to the back-like stake conference). My brother came at the last minute with his wife, and were all completely amazed to see Thomas S. Monson walk into the room and be seated. Our beloved Prophet had taken time to speak at our dear friend's funeral-(Pres. Brian had been an Area Representative of the Seventies). It had to be one of the most incredible funerals I have ever been to in my whole life. The children spoke, the many grandchildren sat with their grieving grandmother. The extended family was so immense-they all could not sit up front with the siblings. They had to move back with us and farther if needed. After the talks and songs and the program ended-we ran out to the back parking lot to hug our dear friends. We laughed and cried together. It's been 27 years since I personally had seen my dear friends. I introduced my husband and met

their children. It was so wonderful, we didn't want the time to end. But, the funeral had to proceed to the cemetery. President Monson dedicated the grave and my parents took picture of the moments. I was so grateful to be part of this event, and later to spend more time with my brother and his family for the Fourth of July weekend. I love the new home we are now in-and I'm so grateful to my Heavenly Father for bringing us up north. Happy Independence Day!!!♥

I Survived

My kids love to hear stories about when I was growing up in Alaska...long ago. When I'd put the boys to bed at night, they'd all say, "Just tell us about when you were little like us". So, I'd think back and remember the good old days on Rabbit Creek Road. My mind remembers the details like they were just yesterday.

I lived off of R.C. Road-on Bay View Drive. My dad built a house on the first right, after the mail-boxes. I was in the first grade at North Star Elem.-and we had been living with my Grandma G. (in her duplex downtown). We had four kids at home-I was the eldest (age 7), then my sister was next, and my two baby brothers. My mom signed me up for a new school-Rabbit Creek Elementary. My teacher was Miss Bell and most of the kids that were in THAT very class...I would one day graduate from highschool with. We lived on that road and I attended that school for years and years. Lots happened during my childhood to make me the person that I am today. Here is one of the stories I love to tell...

One of my earliest memories was going to lunch at my mom's friends house. I think my sister attended her preschool there. We stopped there for lunch time, and we had a fabulous time cutting shapes out of Kraft
cheese squares for our sandwiches. After lunch...we went on a hike in the woods for berries

with her son and daughter. The mom's stayed inside to watch the babies, and we all had bags to bring our blueberries home in. We saw a fallen tree with lots of berries underneath it...so I ran over to pick them. My little sister was sitting on

top of the broken tree, and then I remember a loud deep noise. I noticed that it seemed darker around me and my new friends were yelling, "Run to the house! Run-Run-Run!!". I felt stinging things crawling all over me-and the next thing I knew...my

little legs were taking me down the hill to the left-and I could see a driveway. I heard someone screaming...and realized it was ME!!!. I saw my mom come out of the friends house with a broom and she grabbed the water-hose. She sprayed me down with cold water...and wrapped me in towel. I looked down on the ground and could see hundreds of hornets laying there dead. The ones in my hair kept stinging me till they died, and my mom had gloves on to pull them off of me. I was shaking, scared and crying. My mom then left me to find my little sister. She had been stung on the lip and her whole face was swollen. My dad came and he took us to the hospital for Benedryl. The nurses told us that my sister was lucky to be alive-she was allergic to bee-stings. (I can remember thinking, "Don't ya' think that I'M LUCKY to have survived being stung by hundreds of bees-and still be alive too??). It was a very traumatic time for a little seven year old and a five year old sister.

*I don't think anyone intentionally steps on a bees-nest.
(But...what did I learn from the whole event?)

-Look carefully at your surroundings when hiking in the woods
-Especially look down where your walking:)
-Animals and insects live in those deep dark woods!
-Bees do not like to be stepped on...just like humans.