Author: Angela

I write so my family will always have letters from home.

When life deals you lemons

We are sick with a cold that we have evaded for 8 months. A despicable, nefarious cold that waited to get us when we tried to venture to Disneyland.

The missionaries are out speaking and teaching. We’re here eating chips and sneezing. Here are some photos of our day.

4 lemons. I named them Paige, Daniel, Timothy, and Mark…not because my children are sour but because these lemons are beautiful.

We carry this friend around with us to ease our sore throats and coughs. Timothy played chess on my computer most of the day.

Here’s your reminder that Mormon missionaries are awesome.

Daniel collected berries in the backyard.

A treasure that I remember from the old days.

My sick little boy, smiling despite the trouble in his respiratory tract.

He stayed close to me most of the day; here he is snoozing on my shoulder again.

I keep finding things that remind me how my dad loves my mom. I won’t tell you the name of her listing on his cell phone, but it’s darling.

Dreams encapsulated

…in wood and psychedelic designs. No, Richard, I don’t need help with the camera. I want the photo to look like this.

We just need a coat of poly and the precious wheels with their polished surfaces and flawless axles. This car is poetry.

Speaking of poetry, Daniel wrote a Pinewood Derby Sonnet last spring. I share it with you now to bring you into our circle of anticipation:

Pinewood Derby Sonnet

The shining pinewood racing cars lined up,
In anxious silence racers waited there,
They were all thinking of the derby cup,
The happy talk and brownies they would share,
The wooden cars zoomed down the gleaming track,
The cars pulled close together then they tied,
The winning cars were hung up on the rack,
Results came in; with Joy the people cried,
With happy hearts the winners shook the hands
Of disappointed boys who lost the race,
With joy the people shouted in the stands,
There was a smile on everybody’s face,

In years to come our sportsmanship will keep;

In days to come, true happiness we’ll reap.

~Daniel Ross

Mark’s little red boy

Mark drew his first person yesterday. He started with the legs and feet. Then he did the head and the arms. He used a red pencil, of course.

I taught Mark’s class at church yesterday, but he was the only one who showed up. We had a lovely time, sitting in the sunlight coming in from the window. We molded playdough, sang songs about prayer, and learned the story of Daniel and the lion’s den.

My baby is a big boy. Mine is a sweet kind of ache, though.

Perseverance.

I remember 3 things from this movie: raw eggs, raw meat, and the above scene The mornings this week have been as painful as Rocky’s. Can’t. Get. Up. Mark. Couldn’t. Sleep. Again. Perseverance was the theme this week. There was no lofty goal but to get those hours of school accomplished. I stand atop my own 72 steps, knowing the children haven’t been neglected academically (or ahem, socially, my concerned critics). In celebration, I’ve been thinking the Rocky theme song because Friday was here and the end was in sight…

The end of talking about the Babylonian empire;

The end of talking about the Cuban Missile Crisis;

The end of Lessons 70 in Math 65 and Algebra I and subtraction without regrouping;

The end of high and low pressure systems, clouds, and wind currents; pollination and seed development;

The end of trying to stay ahead of voracious readers and preparing study questions;

The end of juggling the needs of a 3 year old with the needs of all the others.

The books are put away in the school room; the birthday presents are purchased; anything I do now will just put me in the black for next week’s schoolwork. I hope your weekend is as bright with possibilities as ours looks tonight.

Forgotten Letter

I found this unfinished letter in a box a couple of nights ago. Despite its personal nature, I am sharing it… because it’s positive, and we all need something positive to read these days.

Here’s my mother and me, still becoming acquainted:

April 2004

Dear Mom,

You are so many things to me. I’ve been thinking about my favorite memories and qualities I have seen in you.

First, a list of memories of you as my mother:

Music…always
You read so many books to me.
You rescued me from the dogs on the way to elementary school.
You rolled my hair into curlers so I would be pretty.
You made me eggnog when I was sick and spaghetti when it was my birthday.
You sewed outfits for me… a favorite shirt with an angel patch.
You helped me learn to ride a bike and roller skate and perform at my recitals.
You listened and participated in my concerts.
You used every resource you had to pay for music lessons.
You were my chauffeur.
You left sweet notes for me (I kept them all) at my bedside.
You bought me pop tarts and Carnation [instant] breakfasts for early morning breakfasts in high school.
You went on orchestra tour with me to Cedar City.
You helped me pick out a prom dress.

~end~

Here are a few more things that I would like to add, 6 years later:

You kept your kitchen clean. I could hear you doing the dishes at night after I was in bed.

I always had clean clothes to wear.

You worked to help me find friends that were good for me.

I need to mention books again. I remember all of the children draped over the sofa beside you, behind you, and around you while you read to us. You were always ready to read to us.

You were a good Scout wife. I remember when Dad went to Wood Badge for about a week and it was hard, but you were brave. I wondered why those little beads were so small. They represented a lot of time for Dad and for you. You went to the Scout office, packed for the campouts, shopped, sewed, attended, and cheered.

You were in the PTA… always.

You went to our Parent Teacher conferences.

You helped me write my talks for church.

You went to the temple with Dad.

You were always thinking about the youth from church; a confidante to many young women.

At registration day (i.e. Pay Us day) at high school, you paid for the yearbook and other fees and I just felt so grateful.

You picked me up from my college dorm one day along with 6 loads of laundry that I had accumulated and helped me get back on top of my life.

When Richard and I were sick at Westwind, you did our laundry for us.

You seemed to know when I was sick or in need. You showed up one day at my apartment and found me suffering from a very bad cold. You took me home and made me breakfast.

You gave me a copy of the cute handouts you made for the young women at church. I kept that “Master in Charge” card for ages.

You were so excited to be a grandmother, you brought me (& future baby) presents while I was still in labor.

You took care of me for each surgery and birth… 7 lengthy visits.

You drove me to the airport when I left Utah 12 years ago.

Your voice is what I hear as I read the scriptures. So many verses you have put to music…

You were 20 when I was born. I’m so glad.

You gave up school so Dad could finish. You gave up school again to go on a mission.

Of course there is so much more I can say. But at least I am saying something and not laying it aside like I did 6 years ago.

I love you.

~A

Evidence of a Homeschool: A photo essay

Will anyone remember what we did today?

Will I?

I find that my memory is very short, selective and inaccurate.

In case we ever wonder what we were doing on January 19, 2010, here is evidence of a day of homeschooling:

I hung up the old Greek gods cards. We’re jumping into mythology this month.

I made a crossword puzzle to guide us through our study of Tales of the Greek Heroes by Roger Lancelyn Green.

I bought a new box of crayons this week. It’s hard to beat a good box of 64. I won’t betray which of my older children still likes to color in coloring books.

Paige and Daniel took a science test on the lithosphere. Paige got 100 percent. Daniel got an A.

Mark made letter trains on the magnetic board.

I hung up our Starry Night art work from last Friday.

Paige diligently worked through her algebra lesson and much more.

I still have some work to do with Timothy, but we’ll be finished before Dad comes home…

Or my name isn’t, “Homemaker: Unemployed!”

Seven Red Things

Shannan, my sister-in-law, tagged me to post 7 red things from my house. Red is not hard to find at my place. It’s my favorite color.

Our Christmas Poinsettia, still hanging on.

Paige’s Phantom ballet costume

Mark’s leftover yogurt in a bowl on the table

Berries adorn a frame in our living room

Red books in our school room

Daniel’s window

The red load of laundry

I don’t have 7 blog friends to tag, but I have enjoyed finding the red today.

Sometimes it’s best not to ask

We’ve had some big adventures with the homeschool club this year. During the first semester, we made ice cream, did a leaf chromatography experiment, performed many light experiments, built a hovercraft, taught many robotics classes, and today we made flashlights, batteries, and built circuits. Richard and I (and the other parents who help out) are really exercising our science-teaching muscles.

Do you want to know the favorite activity, according to one of the students?

Bubbles.

(We did this just for fun while the kids waited for turns to ride the hovercraft.)

Here’s a good recipe for homemade bubble solution. Ask your pharmacist for the glycerine.

  • 2/3 c Dawn dish soap
  • 3 tsp. glycerine
  • 1 gal. distilled water

Mix all ingredients and allow to sit uncovered for four days. It just gets better with time. While you’re at it, you should try making your own bubble wand out of a hanger. Bend it into a circle and wrap cotton yarn around it so it will soak up bubble solution. You can make huge bubbles with this.

Here’s another solution we tried, but it didn’t work as well as the first:

  • 2 c Dawn dish soap
  • 6 c water
  • 3/4 c Karo syrup (corn syrup)

*Photo by my friend, Monica.

No words…

…to describe my feelings about those affected by the earthquake in Haiti. I take comfort in seeing the images of rescuers from so many nations rushing to their aid. I choose to follow the stories that describe the Best in people.

I know prayer makes a difference, too.

We can all be rescuers if we keep our eyes open for the needs of those around us and extend our hearts in prayer and generous giving to those out of our sight. Our influence can span the miles with God’s help.