Category: Life according to Angela

Here we will stay

Sometimes I just have to pinch myself because those saguaros are so beautiful. We bought our house 5 years ago today. It’s St Patrick’s Day, the day we said in writing, “Here we will stay.”

We have a full life here and I am grateful to be here. This week I have been privileged to see the generosity of many people in my community working together on a humanitarian aid project. So many times this week I have had a full heart as I have responded to calls and emails offering to help. One person heard about the project but is currently traveling overseas. She contacted me to find out how she can contribute. Such generosity! Tomorrow we will complete our project of making hygiene kits for disaster victims and send them off.

Dear Japan,
Someone in this desert is thinking of you and hopes you will be okay.
Love,
Sahuarita, Arizona

High School

The following post is rated PG.

One day in high school accidentally walked into the men’s bathroom…in Egyptian make-up from drama class. *sob*

I still have nightmares that my gingham p.e. shorts are in the locker and I can’t remember the combination. *waaaah!*

I never used my own locker in 10th grade because it was in the scary cowboy hallway. *Skoal + Marlboros= smelly folks*

In 9th grade my locker was heavily stocked with lip gloss which Thora and I would apply liberally in front of our magnetic mirror. *gag*

I skipped class one time… to study biology. *scoff*

The first day I drove to school I got in a car accident. The policeman made me sit in the back of his car IN THE HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT. *shudder*

I ate pizza or Taco Bell almost every day in 11-12th grade. *blech*

Two of brothers went to high school while I was there but I don’t think I ever saw them. *sigh*

I’m pretty sure the high school counselor waved her magic wand to delete a 1/4 credit hour class I never took so I could graduate. *phew!*

And then there were the 8 a.m. P.E. classes where we studied swimming. Wet hair in the winter in Provo=not good. *shiver*

My science teachers inspired me. *exclamation*

An English teacher caused a continual state of frustration. *yikes*

I have stayed in touch with ONE friend from high school. *hmmmm…*

I’m not sure how many play try-outs I sat through, trying to kindle the courage to audition. I could never do it. *sigh*

One day I looked across the room at the wealthy girls sitting in a row with their mini Levi skirts. I could see the underwear of nearly every one. *insert eye roll*

One day in biology class the teacher was trying to explain genetics. To illustrate what would happen if an attached ear lobe crossed with an unattached ear lobe, she implicated me and the boy sitting beside me as a possible genetic cross … I don’t remember the rest. The blood rushed to my head too quickly. In fact, I’m still blushing…and the teacher is still apologizing to me…  *gasp*

I had an orchestra teacher with a heart of gold. *awww*

I bought and ate an Atomic Fire Bomb jaw breaker each day during chemistry class. *cringe*

I had one copy of a portrait of me in high school that I liked and I gave to a boy and he never returned it. *hmph!*

Sorry if I have triggered angry/painful/embarassing/lively memories that will lead to nightmares that you have forgotten a class in your schedule and it’s halfway through the term. For me, high school memories are tied to an inevitable emotional response.

Oh, this house

This week I found:

A dead lizard on a patio table… a highly prized gift (presented in its dead state) from a neighbor, worthy of its prominent placement for repose. On detection, there were many accompanying promises that the children will bury said lizard.

A homemade bird feeder down on the ground.

Evidence of a sick dog on the carpet, the dog having gorged himself on the birdseed from the above mentioned feeder.

An entire box of Kleenex emptied, used as paper towels, and left on the floor of the guest bathroom because “Mom forgot to hang up a fresh towel.”

Many love notes from Mark, decorated with hearts and trees. The attending lollipops, soon desired by the giver, magically evolved from being Mom’s gift from Mark to Mom’s gift to Mark. Genius!

I have determined that:

  1. I need to be more engaged in running this house today.
  2. At least the kitchen table looks lovely in the morning sun.
  3. Never mind on running the house. I’m going to read a book.
  4. I love my life, dead lizards, dog messes, and all.
  5. We need more lollipops.

Reporting for duty

Wittle Wichawd

The weekend was dreamy. I read Tolstoy. We went to the symphony and heard an amazing concert pianist. We slept in on Saturday and Sunday. There was a fishing trip. Richard shopped for yard stuff, which I am told is heaven.

So now it’s time to face it. It’s a new week.

Early morning seminary hit us like a frigid mass of arctic air.

Richard drove to work, forgetting his work computer.

And I have a dental cleaning. And lots of algebra to correct.

It’s time to get it together. The week has begun!

Um, that’s why the internet was invented

“You haven’t fully embraced the concept of the internet,” said Richard to me one night. I was worrying again about sharing so much about ourselves on the old blog, although I realize that’s pretty egocentric.

We have conversations like this all the time. It begins with me asking, “Aren’t you worried….”

  • someone will arrest us for leaving the kids?
  • someone will start to stalk us?
  • some kid will fall through the gaps between the springs of the trampoline?
  • we’ll get sick from all the dog droppings in the yard?
  • our kid will need counseling because I don’t want him to play baseball anymore?
  • our kids will never reach their full stature because they won’t eat peas?
  • our kids will never get married?
  • I’m becoming the Miss Havisham of baby clothes hoarding… an old shriveled hag, hanging on to sizes 0-3 mos?
  • our dog will permanently destroy our relationship with my family?
  • our kid will get whooping cough because I might have missed an immunization…?
  • someone will use our family as a poster family against homeschooling?
  • people won’t like us?

“Worry is just in your nature,” the husband replies, although that’s not an answer to my question(s). Maybe he does worry, but it’s just not in his nature to vocalize it.

Time for Paige

Believe it or not, my worst fear is that I am messing up my children’s lives by educating them at home (and other places). There is no homespun superiority complex being taught or felt at this home school. I run an over-achieving-so-no-one-will-question-us kind of home school.

Sometimes in my efforts to prove we’re providing a great education, I ask too much of my children. High school brought a new level of fear and worry for me and an accompanying workload for Paige that left her exhausted. She stopped doing many things that she loved. There was no reading for fun, no sewing, and no painting.

This semester we made sure Paige isn’t overbooked.  It’s good to see her doing the things that she loves again. She is a great student, but there is more to life than school.

Thank goodness.

A Few Thoughts

Richard took the boys hiking yesterday and then spent time with Timothy working on his pinewood derby car and with Daniel working on a computer programming lesson. What a man.

With all the time I had without family yesterday I cleaned the house and then read a book. I haven’t read Anne of Green Gables in years. Reading it now that I have a teenage girl of my own puts a new dimension on the words and feelings of Marilla and Matthew. I think I cried seven times.

My Sunday plans include more time reading and attaching stamps to a stack of letters and notes that have been accumulating for two weeks. I love sending and receiving letters.

I am no longer teaching the 3 and 4 year olds at church. I will never forget them, but they have already forgotten me.

Paige played music from the Phantom of the Opera on the piano all morning. What a nice thing to have children who can play the piano.