Life at the MTC

 We have been at the MTC (Missionary Training Center) for a week and a half now. It is interesting. When we talk to those who are members of the same church, they are surprised that we will be serving for only a year. When we talk to those who are not members of our church they cannot believe that we are going on a mission for a whole year!

We have been called to serve in the Alabama, Birmingham mission. It is really the only mission in Alabama. We are, of course, unsure of what awaits us there. We will be supporting the branch, the mission and the young missionaries. We will likely be serving in the community as well. 

It has been suggested that we could teach classes at a community center, at a library or at the chapel. Today, we learned some fun resources and activities on the Family History page that the church has made available. We actually did a few of those exercises in our class this morning, and this afternoon as well. As family history averse as I have always been, I was surprised that I enjoyed the experiences, and can see how others would as well.

Overall, our experiences here have been quite remarkable. We have met amazing people. We have felt amazing things. But the air here is, as Elder Holland has said, "rarified". Those that we meet outside these walls will likely have questions for which we do not have the answers. I trust that God knows who they are, what their questions and fears are, and we will be led to help them in ways that will, eventually, give them what they truly seek, if they are open to the answers. I need to remember that we are on God's errand, and that the answers will ultimately come from Him.

There is more to come, and there will, no doubt, be interesting twists and turns. 

The adventure continues.

It's the Little Things

I have off of work every Monday and Friday.  Every day off, I tell myself that I will get some exercise that day, because I have the time.  Today, I decided that I would walk to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription.

I find I cannot "just take a walk" without some destination in mind, unless I have a walking companion. When I have tried to do that, I find myself constantly looking at my watch and my internal conversation goes something like this: "OK. I have been walking for five minutes.  If I turn around now, it will be a ten minute walk."  I guess I would rather talk to someone else than to myself!

So, off I go to the pharmacy.  It is a little bit more than a mile to get there.  A decent walk for a January day.  I am bundled up in my down jacket.  A scarf around my neck, a hat on my head, long johns under my jeans and a hoodie underneath my coat, just in case the wind is coming from the wrong direction.

It has been a bit of a snowy winter so far this year.  We had a blizzard on the 21st of December, with a bonus two more inches the week following Christmas.  Because of this, there is snow and ice everywhere.  I begin to wonder if a walk with snow covered or icy patches are not unexpected, and a bit chancy.  But, as I walk, I see something along the edges of the snow and ice.

Do you remember those little patches of ice, that if you step on them, crunch deliciously to the pavement?  I do!  I loved them, and always had to race ahead of my sisters on our walks to school so that I could be the one to have that pleasure!  Well, as I watched the places that I stepped along my route, I began to see them.  To one with untrained eyes, I had now become a drunkard, weaving along the sidewalk, trying to reenact that childhood pleasure!  Finding these delightful little bubbles of ice along my way has become my quest.

My musings about this walk down memory lane bring me home along a different street so that I can find the bubble ice there!  It has become clear to me that children do not walk to school anymore.  Or they do not find the fun in those ice bubbles.

It really is all about the little things.  Walks are not so bad after all!

Three sheets to the wind, or at least the box fan.

It all started when I was talking with a co-worker. It has been a fabulously mild January and she told me that her goal was to dry some laundry out on a wash line in each month of the year. She had already accomplished that for January during the New Year's holiday.

I determined that this could be a fun goal. It was 50 degrees that day as well. It was a Wednesday, and I was only working until noon. I had an errand to run, but there would certainly be a couple of hours of daylight remaining when I returned home.

Stepping into my house just after 2:30 pm, I delayed putting away my groceries and dashed down to the washer to throw in a set of bed linens. I washed them on a quick wash to save time. By 3:00 the sheets were washed. I went out to set up our wash line. We keep a broken post from our old croquet set in the hole to mark it. Since the ground was somewhat frozen, I was trying to move the thing back and forth to be certain it would release. It was moving, but was a bit below the level of the ground. I decided that since the post was hollow, I could just push the pole over that little broken post and it would seat around it and save me some time. So, I began pounding that pole into its place. After a few minutes of fruitless pounding, I looked at the bottom of the pole only to see that it was clogged with dirt. I had been pounding that broken post into the ground even further. Time was ticking by and the daylight would be even shorter than when I started. Struggling to find some implement that would unseat my obstacle I grabbed a pitchfork out of the shed. Surely the tines were far enough apart that I could work one in next to the post and coerce it out of the ground. Nope. Didn't work. I was feeling more anxious. Time kept on ticking away. Perhaps another yard implement. I know! The small pruning clipper. I knelt down on the frozen ground, thinking "Oh, no. Now my pants will be wet." But I was determined to not spend the time running to the basement for a pliers. (Never mind that I had probably spent 5 minutes finding tools that were not up to the task in the shed.) Fighting the urge to chance yet another failed yard tool, I finally dashed to the basement to retrieve a pliers and a screw driver. Success! I got that elusive piece of wood out of the ground and successfully seated my post for my wash line.

It was now past 3:15, and I knew that there was less than 2 hours left of daylight. My line was completely in shadow, as it is on the north of our home. There was little chance that my sheets would dry, especially since there was absolutely NO BREEZE. Perhaps if there was a breeze! My sheets could have that marvelous scent that comes only from being dried outside. I felt a glimmer of hope as I thought about the help that a breeze could bring. I knew what to do. We had a box fan in the basement. I could set that up next to my sheets and I would have what I needed to enjoy that sweet smell of success I was so desperately seeking. A few minutes later, I had that fan resting against my laundry basket and creating a lovely luffing in my sheets . Ah. This is how a sailor must feel after languishing in the doldrums.

I quietly left my well crafted project to finish making supper, secure in the knowledge that I was on my way to accomplishing my new goal.

Soon it was after 5 and the sun had set. I sauntered out to my sheets and reached up to find that they were still damp. Oh well. I could still say that I had hung my laundry out on the line in January. But the droning of the dryer reminded me of my failure to capture that beloved scent in the middle of winter.

Later in the day, when I tried to describe my escapade to my husband, I realized through the tears of laughter, that I should just be grateful that no one was there to witness my efforts. Really? A box fan?

Thank goodness my nosy neighbor lives across the street, and not in the house behind our yard. This experience could have been broadcast to the entire community.

Thank goodness it is only in cyberspace. My secret is safe.

Meet the Jetsons

I was thinking about it this morning. I am Jane Jetson. OK. I don't live in a house in the clouds, or ride around in a vehicle that moves through the air. Nor do I have a treadmill to walk the dog. But the things which always made me excited about the Jetsons was their video phones. Their wrist watch TVs. I remember Elroy sneaking a peek at his TV when in school.

This morning, I was tending to a few tasks around the house with my ipod touch in my pocket. Playing on it was a video of a TV program that I missed yesterday and wanted to at least hear. My goodness, I have become Elroy, too!

I distinctly remember a show that found Jane running to answer her "phone" with a picture to hide behind that had her hair perfectly coiffed. She was still in curlers and a bathrobe. Well, this past weekend, and nearly every weekend, my husband and I set up our laptop in the living room (where the lighting is best) so that we can "skype" with our son and daughter-in-law with the ability to see our granddaughter as she is growing up. (They live in Louisiana.)

Heaven only knows what kind of technology we will see in the future. Perhaps we will be living among the clouds and driving vehicles that zip through the air. I just do not want a boss like George had at Spacely Sprockets.

And He shall direct my path

I have been giving a lot of thought to my feet of late. I injured my feet in a fall down the stairs about a month ago. It seems that this is the most common place for me to injure myself. I have, over the years, been afflicted with injury to my knees and my feet more than in any other place in my body. Perhaps it is because they are the foundation to so many of the things that I have been asked to do in my life. I believe that all people have tremendous use of their feet and legs.

Without our legs, how could we be propelled? We do have the modern convenience of cars and busses, but we need to get ourselves to them. Although there are some among us who need to propel themselves in wheelchairs because of injury or debilitating illness, the majority of us depend upon our lower extremities to move about.

What a great gift we have in our legs and feet. They are our foundation for movement and for service.

This morning, as I drove into work, I was listening to a CD called "Charity Never Faileth". In it there is a song that includes the phrase "My feet are the Lord's feet. Without them, how could He walk with the poor?"

As my feet and my legs are the foundation for my movement and my service, as I am grounded in truth and righteousness, I will have a sure fondation for my life and my service to others.

It is my daily prayer that I will be supported in my service to others and that I will be grounded in true principles.

Something Old

Years ago, we had an activity in our ward Relief Society in which we created a canning jar filled with questions designed to spark our memories regarding our past. I have decided that it is time to start answering them in this format so that I might be able to retrieve some of these memories.

Describe your first paying job. What were you paid?

My very first paying job was cleaning dental offices. I worked in the evening after they closed, and also on Saturdays. The main thing was to be sure that all of the waste baskets were empty and that all surfaces were clean. I was paid $1.60 per hour. I cannot say that it was my best job ever, but it was a start! I worked with another girl and I remember sitting in the hallway outside of the offices with the bag full of trash just talking about silly, girlish things.

Was there much music in your house? What kinds?

I lived in a home with 3 sisters and my brother. My sisters and I always did the dishes together in the evening after supper. (We never called it dinner.) The drier always got to sit on the counter top. That was actually my favorite job, but the thing that made doing dishes so much more enjoyable, was the singing that we did as we completed that task. My sisters and I sang harmony with each other. We also liked to sing "rounds".

Additionally, I and two of my sisters, played musical instruments. I was the first, and I chose to play the flute, because my friend Debbie Matsch played the flute. After my adventures in band, my sister Barb took up the coronet. She actually learned to play my flute as well. Finally, my sister Lynne took up the saxophone. Barb learned to play that as well. She was always able to excel at everything to which she put her hands.

Speaking of Barbie and music, she always longed for a piano. She asked for one for Christmas on multiple occasions, but the best that Santa could manage was a "Charlie Brown" type piano. I am certain that she had dreams of that little toy piano making the kind of sound that Schroeder made on his!

Wisconsin Under Siege

I am living through a period that may one day be written about in the history books.

I feel compelled to chronicle it in some small way.

My state, the State of Wisconsin, is in debt. Deeply in debt. There is a law that prohibits the state from running a deficit. They are required to have a balanced budget. Yet, here we are.

A new governor was elected last November. His name is Scott Walker. He is from Milwaukee and was the county executive there before running for governor. He promised to rid the state of unnecessary encumberance. He stopped a "high speed" train from being installed. The federal government (which is currently TRILLIONS of dollars in debt) was going to "provide" funding for this rail line that would connect a few of our major cities. Never mind that there was no data that indicated this type of transportation would be welcomed or used by the general population. In fact, studies showed that the project would run at a deficit and would, after its initial boost to the economy and jobs for the duration of the construction, cost the state a lot of money.

He also promised to bring the budget into balance. He has not blamed his predecessor, Gov. Doyle for the monetary woes of the state. He has just stepped up and looked for ways to cut the budget. Now.

He has come up with a plan that is called the budget repair bill. It would eliminate the "right" of public employee unions (except for police and fire fighters) to bargain collectively for anything but wages, and that those wages would be kept within reason. Public employees actually have enjoyed raises during tough economic times because of the power of the unions in these collective bargaining functions. Public employees have also enjoyed "Cadillac" health care plans and retirement plans that cost them very little. Needless to say, this costs the state a small fortune. The bill would require the public employees to pay 12.6% of these costs. The private sector requires their employees to pay substantially more, appr

oximately 25%.

Because of all of this, the public school teachers have begun to throw temper tantrums. They have called in sick at their schools to go to the capitol to throng the hallways there to make demands that the bill be killed. This has shut down entire school districts, leaving parents to scramble to change their schedules. They have likened the governor to Hitler. They have carried signs that say that he is the Mubarek (a recently ousted Egyptian dictator) of the midwest. According to a friend of ours, they have made it impossible for her to do her work for the Sergeant at Arms in the capitol. They have pulled her hair. They have grabbed her legs to stop her from going up the stairs to do her job. They have spit upon her.

These are civilized people who just "care about the children"? I don't think so.

The president of the United States, Barak Hussein Obama, has openly supported the unions. His campaign arm is organizing people to join the protest at the capitol. He is encouraging anarchy. It has been said that he was a part of a group of radicals from the 60's and 70's who wanted to bring about transformative change. He has been called a socialist by many. This is just the latest piece of evidence that he means the US harm. He is injecting the power of the presidency into the affairs of the state of Wisconsin.

Wars and rumors of wars.

These are the kinds of things that the Book of Mormon and the Bible have warned us about. Something wicked this way comes.

I am praying that our Republic will survive.