So how sad is this that I tried to log in to my blog and couldn't remember what email I had it under? Hmm, I think that's a hint that it's been way too long since I last wrote. I have thought about it a few times, but kept thinking--well I don't really have time to write and do justice to that story, or I simply didn't want to write that day, or really truly didn't have much time. And now, I don't. Have time that is. I have a couple of minutes, but that's it.

Whew!

Summer. We're smack in the middle of it. And it hasn't been that bad. I have had many days where I've complained about the heat, but then I look at the thermometer and it's only 88 or 93 or something crazy like that. This hasn't been a hot summer, but seriously, I have still felt the sun burning on my skin. I know that's lame compared to Anna in Texas where they are baking in front of the air conditioner, but I am not a hot weather person. I have said many times that I'd be great in Montana where they have about 8 days of summer. You know in winter you can add as many layers as you want, but in the heat, you can only take off so much without people calling the police.

Moni decided not to work at Scout Camp this summer, and she's happy. It was a stressful time thinking about giving up a job when you don't have another one, but things worked out. I happened to drive by the pool in Magna and they said they were hiring lifeguards and swimming teachers (to be called WSI--Water Safety Instructors--who knew?), and she took the classes and got the jobs. She loves it! I don't even know why I drove by there because it's not by anything where I normally go, but evidently I was supposed to see that sign for her. I tried to get her to do this for the last two years, but she always refused to be in a swimming suit all summer and at the pool. Now she loves it. I've bought her 3 suits this summer. I figured I would have spent that much getting her ready for camp and the treats she took each week, so it's okay. I do have to feed her all summer though. . .

Dante has been to one week-long scout camp this summer and is headed to a 3-day next week. He loves it. He got to do Aviation, Small Boat Sailing, Shotgun and Geocaching. Geochacing? Really? That's a merit badge? Don't you just wander around and look for stuff? Then Uncle Lynn came over and invited Dante to go with him to do Horsemanship. He was really excited about that because they offered that at camp (but he chose Aviation) and the boys there didn't get to ride very much. He got to ride quite a bit with Uncle Lynn. They even spent the night in the horse pasture. Well that's certainly a dream come true, isn't it? You should have seen his clothes when he got home. They'd stepped in mud up to their knees--I soaked his clothes. Put them through a prewash with two rinses, then did a long wash and two rinses again. His sock still look bad. At least his jeans were black to start with. But he came home happy. That's worth a pair of pants, right?

Okay, time's up for now. I promise I'll get back to life here. I have missed reading about everyone else, although I have peeked now and then at your lives!

Okay so yeah, I realize Christmas is over and I didn't write anything at all about it. Wasn't exactly sure where to begin--the jammies that were huge, the moldy ham, the wonderful 3-hour phone call from my missionary. . .

I wrote before that I loved sewing and was excited to make jammies. Perhaps I should have started with a measuring tape. That's good advice, so take it to heart. I think I'm always so paranoid that I'll make something too small, and I love to have the kids wear their jammies for more than one year, and even though some aren't really growing that much any more, some are and I want to plan accordingly. However, I guess I thought my kids were huge because I made huge pajamas. But they didn't complain, just laughed.







I always always take pictures of the kids in their new pajamas on Christmas Eve, and I did, but someone deleted them off the camera. I can't figure that out. Were they that huge? I guess they were. Evidently someone didn't like they way they looked in their oversized pjs. Yeah, that must have been it.

Okay, so for the ham. We found a ham several years ago that we absolutely loved. And no, every ham is not created equal. Don't let anyone tell you that because it simply isn't true. We've tried others. Hillshire Farms brown sugar cured is the very best. It's pricey, but wonderful. And because it's pricey, we've had a harder time every year trying to find one. Corky runs all over town to find our perfect ham. It's kind of like looking for that perfect tree in the woods with the light shining down on it just calling your name. That's our ham. But alas, nobody stocked them this year. I even called the company to find out who might possibly have one--nobody in the valley. They named a couple of stores in Bountiful and I was actually eady to drive to Bountiful to buy a ham. You might think it's silly, and perhaps it is, but I would have done it. But it was a moot point--I called, they didn't carry Hillshire Farms this year.

So, we bought the beautiful ham wrapped in beautiful purple foil. Purple's good, right? I had myself totally psyched that this would be a great ham and we'd all be happy eating our perfect Christmas dinner using our Christmas plates set on the tablecloth with the poinsettias, drinking red sparkly punch out of the goblets--of course it would be wonderful!

But first, we had a great phone call from Taylor, well, that's backwards, we called him. He had called us the week before (that kind of cracks me up) to give us the phone number where to call him. He also emailed it. So he called on his birthday to give us information we already had. But hey, it was his birthday. And we kept that one short.

He talked and talked. He told us about his companion, the mission, how happy he was. He didn't want to hang up at all. They were in the church and his companion had to prepare a talk for the next day, and they had already had their meal with a family and didn't really have anything else to do. His companion's family wasn't calling for quite a while, so we talked, and talked and talked. We asked every question we'd ever thought of, and more. Then he got into the "okay ask me how to say something in Portuguese." That was truly filler, but it was making him happy.

Taylor wasn't homesick, but happy to hear our voices. At the end he bore his testimony and urged us to be faithful. He plead with us to pray and read our scriptures. The words that stuck with me are "if you don't do the things you're supposed to, then there's no reason for me to be here." He's right. What would be the point. But then, I think that's kind of why we sent him, because we are trying to do what's right.

I would say the overall feeling that I got from Taylor describing him and his mission was "contentment." I love that. He's happy where he is and with what he's doing. I'm so glad. Makes it so much easier for a mom to know that her child is happy.

So then, I took a little snooze. There was no way I was going to be able to cook dinner and keep my eyes open. After my nap, I decided to get ready for dinner. The ham in the beautiful purple foil was calling to me. It didn't exactly have a light shining from heaven, but I do like purple. I got things started and got my timing right so everything would come out "done" at the same time, and then I unwrapped the best part of our dinner. There was a little white lump on the side and I figured it was a bit of fat or something, you know, that happens. So I chunked it off with my finger and tossed that. Then I got a weird smell, and dismissed it. This was Christmas ham!

As I picked up the ham, ready to put it in the pan, there was a small piece hanging down that was in the way, so I decided--this is pre-cooked ham, I'm going to eat it. Oh my gosh. Moldy! It was so disgusting. Then I looked closer. The white lumps--not fat, mold. Green mold right by the hangy-down piece. I was ill. And that taste--I didn't know ham even got moldy. Certainly it goes bad, but not moldy.

I ran to the bathroom and brushed and brushed--my teeth, my tongue, the roof of my mouth. I'm cringing now remembering. Sick. (Ew. I just shuddered.)

So, decision time. Pre-cooked ham only takes about an hour or so to cook. So either we eat the rest of the stuff; rolls, yams, potatoes and no gravy; make pancakes or cook the frozen roast I found in the freezer. Which would take at least 3 hours. I let the kids vote and they chose frozen roast. So we had our Christmas ham-less dinner at about 7 p.m. That's very late for us, but it was okay. We talked about how grateful we were for dinner. And actually, I think it was pretty good. It wasn't ham, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to eat ham again, and never, ever will I choose one in a pretty purple foil wrapper.

So, the moral(s) to this story--measure your kids and the patterns, and check for mold. Those little chunks may not be fat. Smell, don't taste, look for unwanted green and white fur on your ham. Keep a roast in your freezer for just-in-case.

A new year for Primary and I'm still the chorister. Yeah for Primary chorister! I think it's wonderful to have my very most favorite callings at the same time. Still. I love being with the kids and teaching the gospel through the Primary songs. There are some that are crazy and silly, but some that really truly explain exactly what we believe. And I love that. And I love being in Cub Scouts. My calling is actually changing, but I'm happy and excited and ready to stay in Cubs, but do something else.

I always like to have something to work toward in Primary--two years ago we did popcorn and had a large jar to fill with popcorn. As the kids sang well, they got a scoop. We were working to fill up the jar so we could eat a ton of popcorn. Then last year we did rice krispie treats, so we filled the jar with rice krispies, marshmallows (all sizes--including the huge Texas marshmallows), and M&Ms. They kind of got lost and we had to pass some of those around as a snack.

I was kind of getting tired of filling the jar and couldn't really think of anything that was cheap enough to fill it with and then throw it away since by October it may not be edible. We talked about it and started with sandwich fixings like a huge Subway, but came up with a whole picnic. So I made a double size poster and drew a picnic basket, complete with ants climbing up the side. I made it so it stands out from the poster and put in it a sandwich, drink, chips, chocolate cake, etc., all stuff for a picnic. As the kids learn the song, they earn a part of the picnic. And on the list of songs, I will put little ants that I drew to show they know that one. I think it will be fun.

We have changed to having the sharing/singing time with the whole Primary. So far it's kind of crazy, but I think they (they--the kids and us as leaders) will figure it out. We also have the last block, so the kids are tired. We'll see how it works. It's nice to think of only having to teach the song one time, but then there are things we do with the big ones that the little kids don't want or can't do and vice versa. But there have been lots of times, especially closer to the program, that I've wished all the kids were in the same room, just to see how it sounds, to see if they really know the song. It's kind of weird to think of teaching a song separately and then having them sing it all together--at the practice they kind of look at each other like, why are you singing this song? I did ask for a practice on a Sundy just to have them together, but now I don't have to! So I'm kind of excited about it.

And, and--this is the best part--the presidency decided to have our sharing time during the last hour, so I get to hear Corky teach his lesson in Sunday School. I was asked my opinion of the combining of the two groups, and I kept crossing my fingers that they'd choose the set-up this way. I haven't been able to hear him teach, and he's been there for a year. Sometimes I'd sneak out for a minute and peek in at him, but I never got to hear much. I think I need to hear a Sunday School lesson, too. I love being in Primary, but sometimes I think I let other areas slip. This will help remind me to be reading all the time. However, Corky gave me a Book of Mormon in Italian, so I'm going to be reading that most of the time, not the New Testament anyway. But that's okay, I recently (year before last) read the New Testmant (almost all of it), and when they reach the part where I left off, I'll read along. Okay, that sounds really lame, but as long as I'm reading, that's more what counts, right? Hope so, because that's my plan.

And, are you ready? I'm becoming a new woman. I have decided to try really hard to simply be more pleasant--to everyone. It's so easy to spew out a scathing remark, or notice how dumb some people can be (especially in the grocery store or on the street), or simply to think that my ideas are wonderful and truly are the best (because they really are, right?)--but not at the expense of others. So I'm trying really hard to just bite my tongue, literally. And I did on Sunday. I actually put my tongue between my teeth, but didn't draw any blood, when I wanted to say something. I knew it would cause an issue, so I just let it go. Holy cow. I let it go! I've been telling the kids to do that for a long time, but I think I have a harder time (presumably because I'm so old, as they are quick to remind me). But I did it. And if I can do it once, certainly I can do it again. Right? Please tell me I can. I think I will be happier, and it will only follow that other people around me will be happier, too. I know happiness is contagious, so I want to give that.

Today I went visiting teaching (I know, crazy, it's not even the last week of the month!) and the lesson said "You pass the heritage along as you help others receive the gift of charity. The history of Relief Society is recorded in words and numbers, but the heritage is passed heart to heart." This was from President Eyring--and I love what he said as far as "helping others receive the gift of charity." He didn't say, "as you give charity," but he talked about helping others receive it. That brings a lot of thoughts to my head. You can be very literal and say well you have to give it in order for others to receive it, but then he goes on to talk about passing our heritage (what the lesson was about) heart-to-heart. Isn't that how we receive it? One sister I've only visted in her home once before because of scheduling issues. She hasn't been here that long and was so anxious for me to come and visit. She even commented that she wanted to get to know me better becuase she needs friends. Isn't that what we're talking about? That's part of the heart-to-heart. We need each other. We need to feel loved and accepted for who we are. She needs that, so do I.

I'm glad it's a new year. I'm not trying to really set "New Year's Resolutions" because I rarely stick to them. But like I said, I'm going to be a new woman. So, check in again at the end of the year (or sooner) and see if anything is happening. Who knows how many other ways I might become NEW?

Today while I was sewing my Christmas jammies I realized how much I like to sew. Not that I didn't already know it, but I guess I was just thinking about it, again. Last year I bought a very nice serger, and I really, really like it. Thirty years ago I bought my sewing machine, and I really, really like it, too. They are both Berninas and I think they are wonderful. I mentioned awhile back that my sewing machine needed some extra love, and it has just been awesome since. I was happy when the fix-it guy told me that it's still a great machine and is probably worth about $500-$600. Not that I plan to sell it, but it just tells me that it's still in good shape and if I wanted to sell it, I could. That was probably part of a great big plan for me to trade it in, knowing that I'd get some money out of it. But I love it and don't have plans to sell or trade it.

Yes I know it's only a couple of days before Christmas, and what am I doing just now sewing jammies? I cut them out--finally--yesterday. It was killing me, but every day has slipped by without having a chance to get it done. Or without taking the chances offered, I guess. So, now I only have one neckband to sew on. Then I'll be done! And I broke a thread and was in the midst of re-threading when Corky told me it was time to leave for work. See, I love sewing and had totally lost track of time. So (sew) I'll finish tomorrow.

You have to know this really isn't bad--I remember one Christmas Eve being at the fabric store searching for a pattern. I remember I had wanted to make matching nightshirts for the kids and couldn't find the pattern to fit Dante. So there I was, last minute, buying a pattern. That one was crazy. There have been other times when I was finished by December 1--I loved that feeling. One year I was helping someone else sew and didn't have time to sew my own--bought 'em. That's okay!

One time I made four extra pairs, plus our jammies. So how did I do that? Even last year I made three extra pairs--two pants (with pockets, flies, buttons and ties) and a nightgown. I gave those away. So why am I so behind this year?

Don't know. But I'm getting there!

So anyway, my point was, I really like to sew. I think I wander into another realm or something. I've learned a lot of little tricks over the years, and then for years I only sewed jammies and forgot a few things. But they come back. I think I just love making something--taking a long piece of fabric and actually having clothes when I'm done. I guess I feel like I'm doing something for my family, or for whoever. But I like it.

Maybe Barbie and Ken will appreciate the clothes I'm making for them. . .