April 14 letter

photo by Rachel Angela Photography

Dear friend,

I write as I listen to the machinery getting started in my neighborhood. Today, it is an excavator removing a lawn. I have placed my chair so I don’t have to watch, but I can’t escape the sounds. Construction sounds and large trucks and vehicles parked all over the street make for a congested scene.

This week marks the second anniversary of my surgery and long adjustment to a new diet. At least I can still eat candy. And with great sincerity, I want to say I am grateful for my life!

My grandmother taught me to use a timer for tasks. Recently, I set a 10-minute timer in each room I wanted to clean. In an hour, I had done more than I expected because I didn’t have time to get distracted. Also, each day I set a 3-hour timer in the late mornings where I am not supposed to touch my phone. I am in need of all such remedial helps.

When I get Instagram friend requests from teen girls in my neighborhood, I bite my clenched fist and wonder if I should accept. I don’t want to contribute to their social angst. I can’t be counted upon to respond to all their content, and I feel a responsibility to provide some of my own steadying content for their feeds. I am currently so disgusted with social media, and what the creators have knowingly done to girls and women, and therefore families. I am sad that so many women-run businesses depend upon an ever-changing and impossible algorithm to promote their brands.

I finished Brothers Karamazov this week. (If you’re curious, to pronounce it, there is an emphasis on the second a.) I read it to gain some wisdom, but mostly felt baffled by the incongruous mixture of content: murder, monastic life, courtroom scenes, debauchery, betrayal, suicide, mentoring children…It was Dostoyevsky’s last book, and I guess he had things he wanted to say.

A few of quotes from the book,

There are souls which, in their limitation, blame the whole world. But subdue such a soul with mercy, show it love, and it will curse its past, for there are many good impulses in it. Such a heart will expand and see that God is merciful and that men are good and just.

Despair and penitence are two very different things.

Ah, man should be dissolved in prayer.

Don’t be like everyone else, even if you are the only one.

Cana of Galilee, the first miracle… Ah, that miracle! Ah, that sweet miracle! It was not men’s grief, but their joy Christ visited. He worked his first miracle to help men’s gladness.

When you are left alone, pray

And even though your light was shining, yet you see men were not saved by it, hold firm and doubt not the heavenly light. Believe that if they were not saved, they will be saved hereafter, then their sons will be saved, for your light will not die when you are dead. The righteous man departs, but his light remains.

Prayer is an education.

Must… Stop… Quoting… Dostoyevsky…

Recently, we arrived at the first gathering of young men and women at our house with Mark, our baby, as host. I remember the shock of our first girl-boy party when it arrived for Daniel. I smile to see that some younger siblings mirror their older sisters’ steps into our house.

Richard is the only person I know who has a weight lifting bench that he uses regularly.

Daniel is getting married in July, and it occurs to me that I never got around to hanging those shelves he wanted in his bedroom. It is too late now. Don’t get me wrong, this is not the only thing I think I have neglected in my teaching and caring of him. Insert end of an era kind of emotions here.

Richard and I were able to get appointments at the Draper temple on Good Friday. I love this temple more than any other, and I am so glad they are back to (I think) full capacity.

Well, this has been an indulgent and rambling letter. Take what you need, and try to forget the rest. Thank you for taking time to check in.

Love,

A.

Dinner party before the women’s session of conference

So much of my heart went into this night that it feels strange to write about it here. I’ll fill some pages in my journal about it.

Please enjoy the pretty pictures of my family and homemade petit fours. (Mark helped me with the fondant glaze and Paige made the rosettes.)

Thankful for work

I prescribed another reading of The Secret Garden for myself because I think it holds many of the keys to a good life.

I love to read about Mary’s transformation from a sickly, weak, lonely girl, to one who has energy to love people and life.

She had to work to get there, along with the play and self care.

I tackled a closet cleanout yesterday that I have been putting off for a long time. It was a lot of work, and I was tired when I finished, but also invigorated! With this momentum, I sat down at my desk and finished some more neglected projects.

I am thankful for the nature of work, how it forces me to move, build strength, go outside, and then it gives back the impulse to do more. Isn’t it funny how the most difficult step is usually just to begin?

I want you to see Paige’s reworking of her Secret Garden illustrations, so I am prescribing a visit to her website, www.paigemclaughlinart.com. The Secret Garden project can be seen by clicking this LINK.

missing them

On Saturday, I found this photo in a little album. Timothy was three, and the dog was a new puppy, not yet house trained. We had just moved into our new house in Sahuarita, Arizona. Mark would be born in a few days. Paige was dancing ballet almost every night, and Daniel would soon begin piano lessons. I miss those little faces.

I keep “hearing” the dog’s step, and expecting him to follow me around the kitchen, or to greet me at the door. Today, I saw Richard out of the corner of my eye and my mind registered that he was holding our dog. It will take some time to get used to living without the pup.

I am lucky to be able to see our children pretty often, but having a missionary is definitely a heart-stretching time. We were six plus a dog when we moved to Utah, and now we are three in this house.

March 3

My personality can’t be “on” all the time. There must be off days, and when weeks are so full they hurt, I look forward to weeks like this one, which are not noteworthy and feel in-between, like an adolescence. Our neighbors moved on Monday and it has affected me more than I expected…sadness, anger, self-pity, reminiscing… Like I said, this week has felt like adolescence.

I have taken these off days to read my books and think my thoughts, reading the news with narrowed eyes, because ouch, Ukraine. I donated a car load of old clothing and unused household goods that have been collecting in the garage all winter. I moved some blossoms and greenery into the kitchen, a ritual I look forward to each year.

Ritual and routine, on and off, beginnings, middles, and endings. This is what I have been thinking about during these early days of March.

February 1 letter

Dear friend,

We made it through January 2022.

Did you see a lot of friends fall ill? I did. I also bought a lot more masks. I keep hoping each time I buy another box that *this* will be the last. In January, I went ahead and bought 3 boxes.

In contrast, if you are local, did you notice how sunny it was in January? Gorgeous!

We have been watching Masterpiece’s All Creatures Great and Small. I love Mrs. Hall and the sets. Now, THIS is a jewel box house. Every scene, I am hoping the actors will move around more so I can get a better look at the props and furniture.

I didn’t do a lot of organizing like many people in January, but I deep cleaned some rooms, and I got all the pine needles vacuumed from the carpet downstairs before we turned the calendar to February.

I read 7 books on cold evenings, every inch of me below the chin wrapped in blankets. No, I did not use my nose to advance pages on the Kindle to avoid exposing my fingers. But it’s worth considering.

A neighbor in our cul-de-sac just put their house on the market. It is a competitive housing market, so our street has been lined with cars. I learned the house behind us was sold to somebody who plans to turn it into an Airbnb. Boo! Still, I’m thrilled that there will be NO [mean] DOGS living there.

I have a new secretary, and she will be wonderful, as was my previous secretary.

Tim is serving in Maple Ridge, BC with two elders from Canada. One was assigned to Italy, and Tim of course was originally assigned to Guam, but they are “all in.” This is considered a temporary reassignment, and I am still not quite set in my mind that he is in Canada. I’m slow like that. I’m aware it doesn’t matter what I think, but it matters that he is smiling and happy, though. And he is.

Happy February!

♥️,

A.

P.S. write back soon. Ha ha

Bright spots

In this assortment, you will find things that I would like to remember about this week. Wouldn’t it be sad to forget *that* sunset? Or that Mark came home excited about the progress he made on his woods project… And that I worked on a quilt and found a few happy surprises… Wouldn’t it be unfortunate to forget these happy little things?

I collect dishes

I have been reading about the art and psychology of homemaking, and the objects people choose to place in their homes to reflect what is important to them. One of my kids commented that I have added things during the pandemic that look like they belong in a temple, maybe because we couldn’t attend for a while. Over time, I have displayed more and more heirlooms, photos of ancestors, and beautiful dishes.

I have an obsession with beautiful dishes.

I wonder what that says about me.

I think my collection shows that I love to make the time memorable at family meals. The dishes I have inherited help me remember the fine ladies in my ancestry. I love many of the same beautiful things they loved. I am old fashioned, a flowery seventies girl, kind of like those brown calico plates. I don’t think I could name a favorite set. I love them all: my wedding china (collected after 26 years), the orange set for Halloween from the dollar store, Grandma Stewart’s Christmas Spode, Aunt Susan’s browns, the blue and white Liberty Blue, the elegant white bone china, the pink Depression glass, and the jade green plates… they help us celebrate seasons and family and beauty. Many pieces are antiques, which means they have seen people through all kinds of things. They are permanence and beauty, so let the world swirl around outside, sit down, and enjoy the serenity of old, steady things and a lovely meal.

Home vs the News

I take part in very different experiences depending on how much news I allow into my head. Again and again through this pandemic, I find a great contrast in our personal experiences compared to the picture painted by other voices. I don’t deny the real suffering going on, but I don’t have to open the door and invite it in all the time. I don’t think our minds are equipped to handle the amount of information in the constant news cycle.

We definitely don’t go out as much. We are blessed with pretty good internet and a home with lots of space. Richard still works from home in the basement office. I am mentally preparing for remote learning for Mark as case numbers rise. The pandemic continues to push us home, and I am doing what I can to make it pleasant. Without question, we are profoundly blessed.

Rest in Peace, little hamster.