Dante with his Eagle--a sweet lady in our ward does balloons--Jake calls her a "great balloonist." And she is. How very fun.


The dad and mom. Here I am in my, as Corky calls it, "fancy grandma shirt." Cracks me up.

Dante receiving his Eagle. Yipee!

All alone, awaiting his fate.

The Eagle, in his place of honor.

The Cake! I was so happy with how this turned out. It was one of those visions you get in your head and then once you start, you wonder what the heck possessed you to think you could possibly do this. But when it was finished, I was happy. I made a chocolate mousse filling that was to die for. In fact, one lady told me she was going to die eating it because it was so good. I did a practice run at home just to make sure it would work, and that cake was gone in a flash. So I figured it was good enough to serve. And easy to make!

Okay, I admit, I didn't design the cake. I found this picture on a box of paper. Pretty cool though, huh? Somebody thought I lasered it. Nope. But I liked him.

So boys who earn their Eagle Scout rank make their mothers very happy. Dante is 13 and I'm so glad he finished. Okay that sounds just like more of a sigh of relief, which in some ways it is because now it's done and we don't have to worry about it any more. But I'm glad for him, too. He worked hard, stayed on track and finished. He had a wonderful project, made baby hats for One Heart World-wide, a very cool organization. I think I talked about that earlier this summer when we were doing the project. A lot of boys just gathered things, but Dante had to work a little harder and get people to come, not just whoever showed up that night for scouts. I'm not trying to dis anybody or their project, this one was just a little different. I'm proud of him!

Two down, one more to go. . .

I realized I never showed the cakes we made for the Cub Scout Cake Auction this year. It is a huge and very fun event--our fundraiser for the year. And this year was really fun. Some years people get into the bidding and some years they don't so much. This was a good bidding year. Corky really had fun--I could tell he was bidding people up, with no intention to purchase that cake. But he would have. He said later he wanted to make sure that the cakes the Cubs made went for a decent price--he wasn't so worried about the cakes other people made, but the kids. He's a sweetheart, but he'd never admit to that.

So here are a few of the cakes. . .

A purse, by Simona--turned out very cute!

You can't see this very well, but it's a graveyard (not the gluten-free cupcakes in the front). I had little molds that made the skeletons and tombstones, and I made chocolate cakes in tiny loaf pans for the graves. It was fun.

Dante's masterpiece. He wanted to make a "cow pie." So this cake (not pie) is in a pie tin with cows on it. Later he wrote "Cow Pie, literally."

Witch fingers we sold on the $5 table--we also made mummies and pumpkins.

This is Witchy-Poo. Remember her from H. R. Puffenstuff? She was going to be cute, but then when I thought of the icky teeth, I just couldn't resist.

And here's my Frankie. I got the idea for him (and Witchy-Poo) from pictures on a napkin. I thought they looked like good cakes! I really liked Frankie's hair.

Jake's corndog. This one cracked me up. He wouldn't give up the idea of making a corndog, even though I really didn't have time to help much and couldn't figure out what he really wanted to do. Well, I was hoping that he'd kind of forget about it, but once the cakes were baking, he just kept talking about it. Dante's cake only used part of a recipe, so we put the rest into a regular-sized loaf pan. I had Jake put it in the freezer for a little while, then he cut it himself. He came up with a popsicle stick (not sure where it came from, hopefully from my craft stuff and not off his bedroom floor. . .) and then we mixed some frosting. I did help him frost because it gets kind of crumbly if you're not careful. But then he wanted to have red and yellow frosting to make ketchup and mustard. He did that all by himself.

I told Corky that he'd better bid on Jake's cake if nobody else was. I didn't need to worry. It was about the 3rd or 4th cake, and people had their paddles in the air before the auctioneer even started. That cake went for $25! Too funny. It was wonderful and Jake was thrilled.

I know we weren't really on the same level as the cakes we made last year, but that's okay. Maybe next year we'll try some of those again. I didn't have a couple that just didn't work, and maybe I can perfect them for another year, too.

People were very generous and we had a lot of fun. Here are some pictures of cakes other people made. The last one is fondant and very, very nice. It was really way too pretty for our table! But we sold it anyway.

These are a couple of the cheesecakes that everyone fights over--well, really bids. Holy cow--one group of people pooled their money just so they'd have a chance. I bought one for Corky last year, so we didn't go for it this year--still recovering!

A giant cupcake.

Here is the one with fondant--It has the Cub Scout Promise--the 100 on top is 100 Years of Scouting, and the Arrow of Light on the top layer, then the Wolf, Bear and Webelos symbols on the bottom. I say Wow.

Of course a cake auction wouldn't be complete with the appearance of Barbie. Always a hit.

Spider cupcakes. The couple who bought these then handed them out to all the kids. That was nice.

The blue pool is Jell-O. She scooped out the cake, cut the Jell-O in the right shape and plopped it in. Of course the little boy whose mom made this cake really, really wanted it back. He's a dinosaur fanatic. Nice that his grandpa was there, with his cash ready to go.

A Rubik's Cube! How fun is that?

This was Emily's and Richard's contribution--of course all the boys wanted it. Zombie vs. Robot vs. Pirate vs. Ninja, complete with game dice. So very awesome!

We have a soup pot luck dinner, provide the bread, which this year one of our old scout leaders decided he was going to make rolls instead of bringing soup or having us buy the rolls from Costco, like we did last year. There is always so much soup--and it's always very wonderful--that he figured his little pot wouldn't be missed. And we loved the rolls! He and his mom made over 300. I'd say that's some kind of dedication. It's very fun because the last couple of years we've gotten families to come who have nothing to do with Scouts, but because it's Scouts, they contribute. It has become a very fun tradition. I love it!

A friend of mine has been talking to me about blessings that come from a mission. She has a son on a mission, and has a friend who has two missionary sons. That friend has had nothing but problems, and my friend has had a lot of household things go wrong. She said that people at church were talking about how everything seems to go right for missionary families--more money, more blessings, etc. She wanted to tell them about all the problems, but refrained. So when everything seems to go wrong, how do you count your blessings?

I think there are spiritual blessings for us as a family, and we haven't had too many problems, but we're just getting into it, too. We had to repair the washer twice, within 2 months, but we bought that washer when my missionary was 1. I'm not looking for problems, and I also know trials and challenges come just with living, whether or not you have a missionary in the field.

But then there's that whole thing of does Heavenly Father send us trials, or are they just allowed to happen? I hear a lot of both opinions about that.

I really think a mission is where our boys grow into men, and without it, they will get there eventually, but it won't be the same. There is just a different depth to a person who has been on a mission, a deeper understanding of a lot of things--spiritual and temporal. You just don't ever get other opportunities to study the gospel like you do on a mission. When do you get to teach the gospel to someone who has been searching for something better in his life? It's so obvious when you see the light go on in their eyes, when the spirit hits and the understanding comes. It's an amazing feeling to be part of that, to know that Heavenly Father worked through you to help someone else.

When you get to see people in different parts of the world, even if it's only one state away, your world broadens. Your own understanding of life, people, and the goodness of God expands. When you eat in someone's home and know that they have given you the best they have, you are humbled and you reverence the person who gave their meal to you.

Our missionaries get to feel the spirit stronger on a mission than they ever will. They get to learn how to truly pray and ask for help, guidance, how to love, how to trust in the Lord. I'm not saying that none of these things will ever be gained by someone who didn't serve a mission, but it's just kind of a crash course instead of spreading it out over a lifetime. So please don't misunderstand me. I'm just so grateful for missions and missionaries.

As I think about the blessings of a mission another comes to mind. For me, it was also a blessing to be able to attend the temple at that time in my life. I was glad to have already been endowed and have already had that experience when I got married, so that time and that day was only about getting married. If I hadn't gone on a mission, I probably wouldn't have been endowed before getting married. I know some people don't see it like that or think it's a big deal, but I always felt that was a blessing for me to have been to the temple many times before my wedding.

A friend of mine who recently returned from being mission president commented to me the other day that he thinks sending out a missionary is the ultimate sacrifice. It is definitely much harder to be the parent of a missionary than to be a missionary. I was scared and wimpy, but also proud and excited to serve. I'd lived on my own for 4 years and knew I could do it, but I'd never been on a plane or been so far from home without being able to call my mom and dad or have some relatives close by. But this is much harder. Your children are everything and you'd do anything to protect them. I'm not there.

I think sometimes that email is not such a great thing. I love being able to "chat" with my son every Monday and know exactly (well, kind of) what he's doing and thinking, but then on the other hand, it makes me want to fix everything for him. And I know I can't. And shouldn't. If we as missionaries had problems and wrote home, our parents didn't even know about them until at least 3 weeks later, and then by the time their answer reached us, we'd solved the problem or didn't even remember what it was. We were truly on our own and had to grow up. I wonder if some of these missionaries aren't totally allowed to grow up because their moms and dads are too close because of email.

On the other hand, I think it's nuts that they don't get to email when there's a Conference or transfer day. Taylor was told by his Stake President to email once a week and they're making it so he can't! I think I've said this before, but when I'm in charge, I'll say the day after transfers or Conference or whatever, you get to a computer ASAP and write to your parents, just they know you are alive and okay. I don't even think it needs to be the full hour, just get there! Okay, I'll never be in charge, but that's what I'd do.

I sometimes wonder if my parents felt the same way about me and my missionary siblings. I had lived away longer than any of them, but was still their child. I don't see this getting easier. My other kids talk about when they will be missionaries and it's exciting to me, but also kills me just a little inside. They're my babies, every one of them. It's hard to know that they will be gone, grown up and strong individuals without me.

I have two boxes ready to go for Taylor's birthday. I can't believe I had that much stuff. I don't think I would have sent a second but Taylor asked specifically for marshmallows and graham crackers. So I'm going to spend $43 to mail them. How crazy is that? See, this is what I was talking about--am I letting him grow up? Or am I facilitating some crazy thing that will in the future be his downfall because he didn't have to do without something for a little while thereby not allowing him to completely mature in some weird aspect of society. Oh well, I guess I may never know. Until he has to see a psychiatrist and have association therapy proving my neglect of his precious little psyche. I'm sure that doesn't even make sense, but you get the point. (Obviously I don't know what I'm talking about. . .)

And on a nother subject, I had to take my sewing machine in for some repair. I wasn't getting a very good stitch and haven't for a few months. I'd clean, replace the thread and needle, it'd be okay for a little while, but then back to the icky stitch. So I finally broke down because Ken's pajama pants weren't looking very good. I didn't want them to fall apart while he was wearing them. Barbie wouldn't be very impressed, I'm sure. Even though I don't sew every day, I'm feeling lost and lonely without my machine. I've had it since 1982--yes, I know some of you weren't even born then, but I love that machine! When I graduated from high school I bought an Elna--hated it. Every time you wanted to do something, you had to change this little cam thing. Really, hated it. I learned to sew on a Bernina, so after I graduated from Ricks, I sold my Elna to my sister-in-law, who loves it and still uses it, and I bought my Bernina. It was the top of the line at the time, and I've loved it and never regretted the purchase. But now my baby is in the shop. I hope she comes back refreshed and ready to work!

Why are there days that you feel very creative and then there are others when you can't think of anything except just getting through the day? I keep thinking that I need to write, but when it comes right down to it, I'm not really sure what to say.

I think maybe working on Taylor's mission blog seems to be enough, which doesn't really take a lot of effort or creativity on my part, because he writes the letter and sends the pictures--I simply add the new post. However, if you notice, I did add a link to Brazilian radio this time. Pretty nifty. I'm listening to it this very moment. Maybe that will inspire me.

I keep looking at my house and wondering when it's going to go into self-clean mode. So far that's not happening. My kids barely get their own jobs done, and then I end up doing some of them anyway. A couple weeks ago I was cooking and started looking around--wow. I don't think I've done any "real" cleaning all summer. Oh I've vacuumed here and there, the bathroom got cleaned now and then (mostly Corky's doing--he's totally awesome at the bathroom), and I know I've cleaned off the kitchen counters, at least the part that shows. Hmm, maybe the part that doesn't show is what really needs cleaning--it doesn't show because there's stuff on that part.

So, I think I need to really, really clean. The carpet. The kitchen. My bedroom. Oh, don't go in there. That's the home for everything that doesn't have a home. But I think that's going to change. I hate that I have a messy room. I want my kids' rooms to be clean (like that happens), so how can I tell them to clean when my room's a mess? But then I have an excuse for that, too--I have to take care of the rest of the house and never have time for my room. It's the last on the list, but maybe that should change.

I gave up on my garden--I think there just wasn't enough water. And those darn weeds. Holy cow--I got started digging them, but then something happened and I quit. I know there are potatoes down in the ground and I need to seek them out. I hear them calling my name and crying for sunlight. Do you think they truly understand what that means to their ultimate survival? Perhaps they are there just for my starchy enjoyment. I know I planted red spuds, Yukon Golds and I can't remember the other one. I think it might have been a kind of purply potato. Way too long ago to remember. I think this next month I want to clean out my perfect garden spot and get the tiller again. I have been filling up my compost bin--big black bin that the squirrel frequents--I know I don't do it exactly right, but there's got to be some good "organic material" in there. I have a lot of leaves to rake, too. I think if I get all of that good stuff and till it in, I've got to have some good dirt next year, right? And I have some ideas for more water. I even want to enclose it so I don't get the stupid seeds from my neighbor's trees, then I could just brush them off (or back into their yard) and not have to pull up 12,687 baby trees. (No, I didn't count them, but that's a really good, honest estimate.)

And manure. That's going to be my main focus next year. Have you ever focused on manure? I want clean manure, and no that's not really an oxymoron, it's real. Horse manure is full of seeds and weeds because it goes right through them. I want manure that will fertilize and not give me a new brand of weeds in my garden. That's what happened a few years ago, and I'm still pulling out those babies. Well, digging 'cause they won't pull. These buggers grow out, not down and they just break off if you pull. Totally ticks me off.

I look at my front yard, which in years past has been beautiful, but this year it really wasn't. Not nearly as much color as in the past. Not sure why, but I know I haven't really been as attentive there, either.

Okay, so if I've put off things like cleaning, weeding and tending to my yard/garden, what have I been doing all summer? Well, swimming lessons for one. Some picnics. Cub Scouts. Primary music. Not cooking much dinner. Oh yeah, that's supposed to be in the other category--the one of what I've not done. Hmm, I don't really know. Just living day to day, I guess.

I think I've been a slug much of the last year, but that's changing. At work we are having a contest, a walking contest; individually and between the differing floors. We were given a pedometer and I think I'm doing okay. Not totally sure because I don't know what other people are averaging, but I have been fairly diligent in walking nearly every day. I walk Jake to school in the morning and then I go down and around through the neighborhood. And wow--the days I go to Walmart I get a ton of steps (I'm actually considering them miles and not steps because it makes me feel a lot better). Well, you know how it is at Walmart, you get stuff on one side of the store, walk to the other and then remember something from the first side again. And then once you get there, you realize you got the wrong thing from the other side. And it's miles across that store, literally. The other night I realized we were about out of milk so I stopped on my way home from work. From my car, straight to the back where the milk resides and back to my car, no zigzagging across the store, it was 606 steps (miles in my estimation). In the middle of the night it really does feel more like miles.

So, I've been walking, and enjoying it. Jake doesn't thrill on it in the mornings. I think he's looking forward to snow so we'll drive, but I might just have other plans. What are snowboots and coats and hats and mittens for if not to walk out in the snow???? I have some great boots and he's due for a new pair. I don't think new boots will be much of an incentive for him, however. There are a couple of families in our neighborhood who also walk to school, who have little kids; one in Kindergarten and the other in 1st grade. Jake loves it when we run into them. The little 4-year old sister hops off her bike to come and flirt with Jake. He loves it. Makes me chuckle.

I keep walking with my hands on my hips to see if they are disappearing. They haven't. How long does it take? There's a sign in the kitchen that boasts the virtues of walking--one is lowering blood pressure. We found out that I have high blood pressure and I really don't want to take any medication. I like the fact that I don't "take" anything. Earlier this summer I started taking calcium and some vitamins, but that doesn't really count, at least not in my mind. I had a colonoscopy and a polypectomy this summer and the doctors and nurses were amazed that I wasn't on anything. I liked that. But they did give me a hard time about my blood pressure. So, I'm hoping that the putting one foot in front of the other will also do the trick in the lowering of the pressure. Corky even bought me a kit to check, but no, it hasn't yet gone down. I haven't checked this week, maybe when I get home. Being tired and half asleep ought to make it lower, no?

Anyway, I think I like the walking. It makes me feel good and feel like I'm at least doing something for my health. I used to be a good walker, and then something happened and last year I hardly walked to school at all. Maybe it was Jake--he hates walking. And then I was always tired, so I was willing to drive and then come home and go back to bed. I always look so longingly at my bed as soon as I get out of it. This morning I even patted it and said I'd be back as soon as I could. . .okay I know that's strange, but it's so very true!

I have been helping a neighbor girl learn to sew. It's fun! She's happy and we're both having fun. We've sewn for two weeks and she has a pair of cute jammie bottoms. I'm going to help her do pillow cases for her Christmas presents. It's fun to have someone excited to sew. I love it and can't believe that more people don't like to sew. I know a lot who say they can't stand taking out the bad stitches, but that just doesn't bother me. My oldest sister is a quilter and I know she used to sew, but I don't know how much or if she still does (clothes I'm talking). And then my next sister said in high school when she got a job at Sears that she couldn't wait to not ever sew again. I think she has here and there, but she'd rather not. And I love to sew. It's relaxing to me. My kids are going on Trek this next summer and I'm planning their clothes now. I don't want to be rushed, and I really want to have fun with it. I have this very cool pattern for a shirt for Dante--he's going to look really cool. We tried to find Grandma's pattern for her pioneer dress, but that didn't happen. We found her dress so I brought it home. I'm hoping to find something similar because I don't really want to take it apart to make a pattern and then have to sew it up again, as well as two other dresses for Moni. I'll find something.

And then, I love this, I'm helping a friend make Barbie clothes for her girlies for Christmas. We cut out a bunch of stuff, then she went home and I kept cutting. Then I just couldn't stand it and I had to sew, not everything, but a little. Just to get a taste of it again! I was really excited because I serged a tiny rolled hem stitch around the neckline of a pretty pink Barbie blouse. Turning it down and sewing is really a pain when it's that small, so the hem looked great. Of course the pink thread might not look as good on Ken's flannel shirt, so I'll have to see what other threads I have that will blend. Oh hey, we found Naugahyde (spelling?) to make cowboy vests; white for Barbie and tan for Ken. I'm going to try and make chaps. I have blue bandanna fabric for Ken's shirt and red for Barbie. Now if we can find a cowboy hat for them. How cool is that? Wedding dresses, jammies, regular clothes and evening wear. I even have silky black for a vest and pants for Ken to get married in. If Barbie has a wedding dress I think Ken should sport more than the flannel shirt. . .

Hmm, for someone with nothing to say I always end up yakking quite a bit.