tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4529214269433537102024-03-05T14:33:43.534-08:00LaurieBee's Family HiveCollection of random thoughts and stories my posterity may want someday.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.comBlogger173125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-31451288471337156022012-07-25T10:46:00.001-07:002012-07-25T10:49:06.489-07:00The Times They Are A ChangingOnce upon a time, I started a little blog. It was a good little blog, and I enjoyed it for many moons. Times change, and the fun was stripped away. So I will retire this blog for a time, though at some point in the future it may resurrect itself.<br />
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In the meantime, I'm moving on. I have begun another blog, which I'm very excited about. Those of you who have regularly followed this blog (and who have not rained on my parade), will shortly be receiving the link to my new blog. Watch for it. I am working out the kinks in the new blog now, but hope to have it up and running soon. I'm anticipating the new blog to be much different from the old one -- and I'm very excited to get started!<br />
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If you recently found this blog, I invite you to have a look around. There's a lot of good stuff here!LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-5339650708206028632012-07-18T10:18:00.000-07:002012-07-24T14:43:49.900-07:00Psalm of Heroin AddictionRecently, I was talking to one of my kids about the "Stupid Kids File" I kept when they were growing up. It was a collection of things I had seen while working in law offices where kids had been hurt because of a moment of pure stupidity. It was my hope that by sharing these things with my children, that they would stop and think before they did something stupid that could cause them harm.<br />
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I should have saved that file for my grandchildren, but I didn't. I tossed it long ago. However, it seems there isn't a day that goes by that there isn't something in the news that my kids can save for the grandkids.<br />
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A couple of weeks ago, I was helping my brother in preparation for a move. He was sorting through some old files and ran across something which he gave to me. He worked in law enforcement for many years. I don't remember whether he told me he was the officer on the scene, or whether it was another officer, but one day a young woman commit suicide. The suicide note contained a poem. He doesn't know whether she wrote the poem herself, or whether someone else wrote it and she just included it in her note.<br />
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While these things are not pleasant to read, maybe this will be a good thing for us all to keep in the "Stupid Kid File" to help educate those we love.<br />
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_____<br />
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<u>PSALM OF HEROIN ADDICTION</u><br />
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King Heroin is my shepherd, I shall always want.<br />
He maketh me to lie down in the gutters.<br />
He leadeth me beside the troubled waters.<br />
He destroyeth my soul.<br />
He leadeth me in the paths of wickedness<br />
For the effort's sake.<br />
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Yea, I shall walk through the valley of<br />
Poverty and will fear all evil.<br />
For thou, heroin, art with me.<br />
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Thy needle and capsule try to comfort me.<br />
They strippest the table of groceries in<br />
The presence of my family.<br />
Thou robest my head of reason.<br />
My cup of sorrow runneth over.<br />
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Surely heroin addiction shall stalk me<br />
All the days of my life.<br />
And I will dwell in the house of the damned forever and ever.<br />
_____<br />
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On the back of the card on which this poem was written was the following suicide note.<br />
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Truly this is my psalm. I am a young woman, 20 years of age and for the past year and a half I have been wandering down the nightmare alley of the junkies. I wanted to quit taking dope and I tried, but I couldn't. Jail didn't cure me. Nor did hospitalization help me for long. The doctor told my family it would have been better and indeed kinder if the person that first got me hooked on dope to have taken a gun and blown my brains out, and I wish to God she had. My God how I wish to God she had. Now I will finish the job she started.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-14719134350551809722012-07-17T16:41:00.002-07:002012-07-17T16:41:58.665-07:00Misunderstood Motives<br />
Someone posted a picture on social media today:<br />
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"WARNING: NOVELIST AT WORK. BYSTANDERS MAY BE WRITTEN INTO THE STORY."<br />
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A common problem with writers is that everyone around them sees themselves in the writing. <span style="background-color: white;">It's hard when the most important people in your life misunderstand your motives. I'm not a smart person, but there are lessons that I've learned through hard knocks. The lesson I'm learning on any given day is rumbling around in my head in a jumble of words. I'm a writer, and words are important to writers. Though I spent many years in another career, writing has </span><i style="background-color: white;">always</i><span style="background-color: white;"> been who I am. The lesson of the day doesn't completely formulate until it is on paper (or virtual paper).</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: white;">Writers write what they know about, what is important to them, what is on their mind, and what is close to their hearts. Yes, I am a writer. That describes me perfectly. I don't write to hurt anyone, to be vindictive, to criticize, or to judge. I try very hard to be objective in my writing, but since I do write from my heart, I do express opinions.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;">My hope is that those who stop to read what I write will benefit from it. If not, it would be a waste of their time. All of us go through different challenges in our lives, but we all have one thing in common: Life is tough. We all have problems and lessons to learn. As I learn life's lessons and write them down, hopefully, it will help someone else who is working through a similar problem. If people see themselves in my words, I don't think that's a bad thing. We need to open our hearts to each other and learn from one another. I've learned many things from reading what others have written.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br />
I've written things (and made them public) that I don't want people to know about me -- especially those closest to me. There was <a href="http://lauriebeesfamilyhive.blogspot.com/2012/01/tear-down-that-wall.html">one blog post in particular</a> that the instant I hit "publish," I thought I was going to throw up. I published it anyway. I did so because I knew that I could not possibly be the only person who felt the way I was feeling, and that maybe others might quickly learn from my post what had taken me years of beating my head against a wall to learn for myself. Isn't that what life is all about? Helping each other along the way? I've also had a couple of articles published that made me extremely vulnerable, and sadly my words have already been twisted and used to hurt me.<br />
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In my writing, I try to look outside my own little problems and my own little world at who else may benefit from what's kicking around in my head. To my readers I would say that if you see yourself in something I write, please don't take it personally. Please understand that what you see that describes you and your situation or life circumstance, may also describe many other people and their situations and life circumstances -- including me. Please look outside of <i>your</i> own little world at who may benefit from reading my thoughts. If my writing upsets you, simply don't read it.<br />
</span>LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-74242192265321017482012-07-06T15:31:00.003-07:002012-07-06T15:31:55.917-07:00Study in Human NatureI don't know why this continues to surprise me, because I've seen it so many times before, but I'm always shocked when it happens.<br />
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This afternoon a four-year-old boy had a seizure which put him into cardiac arrest. As the helicopter was in flight to take the child to the hospital, his heart sick mother turned to Google+ on social media and asked for prayers. She told people that didn't believe in a higher power to please just scroll on down. She is not of my faith, but I know that God answers ALL prayers. As a mother, I felt her pain. I instantly bowed my head and said a prayer for this child, his mother, and all those who loved them.<br />
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On completion of my prayer, I scrolled through the comments. In just an hour from her original post, there were 283 comments, 200 people had +1 (or liked) the post, and 67 people had forwarded the post for their followers to read and pray. As I write this post, people are continuing to comment and pray. Prayers came from many faiths--Christian and Muslim. Some who don't believe in a higher power, left kind thoughts for a speedy recovery.<br />
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The reason for my shock: There were several comments left for this grieving mother expressing the sentiment that instead of praying to some imaginary man in the sky, she should be hoping the doctors had learned their skills appropriately. I am shocked at the heartlessness of those comments--especially since this mother had specifically asked that those who were not believers just scroll past. Those on social media who insist on kicking a man who is down are just cruel people. There is a time and a place for religious debate. This was not the time, nor the place. This was a grieving mother in a plea for support. The longer I live in "civilization," the more I wonder how "civilized" we really are becoming. All I can do is note the numbers of people who left kind messages and hope that by the end of the day, those messages far outweigh the unkind words.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-17429675552883705042012-05-29T13:23:00.001-07:002012-05-29T13:25:43.369-07:00The Power to Bind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There is nothing more precious than family. As we gathered our family for several special events this weekend, I was amazed yet again at how different we all are -- and yet we all fit together as individual cogs in one big wheel. It was especially apparent to me this weekend, as we gathered to seal an adopted grandchild to her parents in the <a href="http://www.lds.org/church/temples/why-we-build-temples/what-happens-in-temples?lang=eng">LDS Temple</a> for eternity. The next day priesthood power was used to bless (christen) that same grandchild, as well as another grandchild.<br />
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The power to seal families together for eternity is an awesome thing. In Matthew 16:19, we read:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."</blockquote>
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The keys of the kingdom of heaven -- think of that -- what power that is -- literally, the power to act in God's name. He gave us the power to literally seal our families together forever. Priesthood power is a wonder to me! What an incredible gift Heavenly Father gave to His children to bind our families together forever. Nothing can separate us if we follow the principles of the gospel and are faithful to our covenants. I can't think of a greater gift than that!<br />
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Each family member is an individual in his/her own right. We are <i>many</i> different personalities in our little group. Every member of the family gives a unique quality to our family unit. We may not always agree with each other, and as in all families, we have our ups and downs. We quarrel and bicker, repent, and proceed. We are not perfect, but each in our own way is striving to become more Christlike -- and that is the purpose of this whole experience on earth. There is no member of a family who is "dispensable." Each cog in the wheel is needed to make the wheel strong enough to withstand the test of time. I don't want to end this life with any broken or missing cogs in our family wheel.<br />
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I was so impressed by my two little grandchildren in the temple. As young as they are, they felt the Spirit of the Lord there. When was the last time you heard two little children whisper for three hours straight? As they walked the hallway with the temple worker towards the sealing room, they spontaneously began very quietly singing, "<a href="http://www.lds.org/churchmusic/detailmusicPlayer/index.html?searchlanguage=1&searchcollection=1&searchseqstart=301&searchsubseqstart=%20&searchseqend=301&searchsubseqend=ZZZ">I Am a Child of God</a>." They may not completely understand the significance of the ordinance performed, but they felt something very special that will remain with them for a long time.<br />
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The next day in church, as two of our grandchildren were given blessings (christenings), one of my daughters spoke with me about the differences in the two blessings. It was a testament to the fact that they are two completely different personalities, and they have two completely separate missions on this earth. Heavenly Father has a plan for each one of us; all we need to do is be faithful and live up to our covenants. If we slip, there is <i>always</i> repentance. He is here to help us. When we reach a stumbling block, we need to dynamite it and push forward. We <i>will</i> make mistakes -- but that doesn't mean that all is lost. Heavenly Father knew what mistakes we would make from the beginning, and built cushions in the plan for that purpose. When we hit a wall, we must bounce back. It's in the plan. We just need to have confidence to push forward.<br />
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I pray that each member of our family unit will continue to strive for this goal of an eternal family. If we can just hold on to the rod of iron and keep putting one foot in front of the other. There will be rough days ahead when it will feel like all is lost -- but all is NOT lost, nor will it ever be lost. The power that binds us together is God's power, and if we keep our covenants, he is bound to keep His. Don't ever give up!LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-74192729518134975922012-05-20T18:51:00.002-07:002012-05-20T19:31:43.842-07:00Solar Eclipse May 20, 2012Solar Eclipse May 20, 2012, in Sacramento, California. Watch the fence and the side of the house as the circles become more complete.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qB1kw-rjSaYPcL1FDLNn231sv8e5o6WQLfoQc_vlqY3t7jmmweIeHnvhjrXV10jitwpp2KGh9MJ0i-h_4P-iQ6cDG9RBDhptn2stwBPOMAJ3VyjjNYGs_Uk2YpEwSo8Dm2JeYGSSE0ca/s1600/Download20070520+034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qB1kw-rjSaYPcL1FDLNn231sv8e5o6WQLfoQc_vlqY3t7jmmweIeHnvhjrXV10jitwpp2KGh9MJ0i-h_4P-iQ6cDG9RBDhptn2stwBPOMAJ3VyjjNYGs_Uk2YpEwSo8Dm2JeYGSSE0ca/s1600/Download20070520+034.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ring of Fire -- Picture taken by my friend Marcia Hummel in Reno, Nevada<br />Thanks, Marcia!</td></tr>
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<br />LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-83079155199511051722012-05-18T19:13:00.000-07:002012-05-18T19:13:19.052-07:00For My Grandchildren<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSjivA2rMWAewZ20Wolfd-lAaZ8J1GqMnQuiE1ThOurp8Zi4gG1gNndWrmUMpDF_k7uWDpow-UMONQ1TmT9bR-a8w1oU0nSFueiBxmMleugVu2uspp1hmmbFHirKoO3jv38ZIdxkU6JE6/s1600/Grandkids+8-21-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSjivA2rMWAewZ20Wolfd-lAaZ8J1GqMnQuiE1ThOurp8Zi4gG1gNndWrmUMpDF_k7uWDpow-UMONQ1TmT9bR-a8w1oU0nSFueiBxmMleugVu2uspp1hmmbFHirKoO3jv38ZIdxkU6JE6/s320/Grandkids+8-21-11.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top Step, Left to Right: Jocelyn, Michael, Kaitlyn<br />Bottom Step, Left to Right: Joey, Ella, Haley</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXzOAJWhUTmSTZRmmf4iJ-U3ppI_QbIdVOtBwttotScAG8ONRzbBRbz5kNc1vnok15DCVhGJY1EvExFDCXA1x1L_5XJNf5oIyHYpkCikDkVA0HvCppQnt41Mwp7FLoEBKy2Ck4CuAcRhS/s1600/DSCI0236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXzOAJWhUTmSTZRmmf4iJ-U3ppI_QbIdVOtBwttotScAG8ONRzbBRbz5kNc1vnok15DCVhGJY1EvExFDCXA1x1L_5XJNf5oIyHYpkCikDkVA0HvCppQnt41Mwp7FLoEBKy2Ck4CuAcRhS/s320/DSCI0236.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eli</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpt-F6quOL_e2BlVNjOO1oNKepQjJg22WFQlNfoi9ogDISJ5R0BaECmUs7CP8QMnZ9TJUD63FXoWdYJ2C_6VqXeoG97WV_aRO1CCn8QVhgQAJea6jCaLyReabI0PoDApsSSxB8hyOLUv7/s1600/Ben+Cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpt-F6quOL_e2BlVNjOO1oNKepQjJg22WFQlNfoi9ogDISJ5R0BaECmUs7CP8QMnZ9TJUD63FXoWdYJ2C_6VqXeoG97WV_aRO1CCn8QVhgQAJea6jCaLyReabI0PoDApsSSxB8hyOLUv7/s320/Ben+Cropped.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBazhd8jkqz7qxWoORzQYI_hyrE91Mtd3__93j3o6U1VPI_wGyHFykAe14TmhZFp1uXzSHzF9SmkOUKC0uEBHXxlNN9kOVHtuI4bxLnlEWv0IUbsaKEGoQL0-p4Qoep_7QU9mv867cOf3g/s1600/DSCN2332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBazhd8jkqz7qxWoORzQYI_hyrE91Mtd3__93j3o6U1VPI_wGyHFykAe14TmhZFp1uXzSHzF9SmkOUKC0uEBHXxlNN9kOVHtuI4bxLnlEWv0IUbsaKEGoQL0-p4Qoep_7QU9mv867cOf3g/s320/DSCN2332.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sabrina</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh3_QAs2sPXGMP1k-ibdtE5-vmSFWe8ph9EYt74o6EqSs9ICltEchA0Y8gmQRm2GZFa0avaxUk6eHdwsS4F-Tho0AAqPjx3gDTKWeJWcqZHGo8p1GJJqujrabg3DjkLU2npxAQ1uKYoEP8/s1600/DSCN2323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh3_QAs2sPXGMP1k-ibdtE5-vmSFWe8ph9EYt74o6EqSs9ICltEchA0Y8gmQRm2GZFa0avaxUk6eHdwsS4F-Tho0AAqPjx3gDTKWeJWcqZHGo8p1GJJqujrabg3DjkLU2npxAQ1uKYoEP8/s320/DSCN2323.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Savana</td></tr>
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I've seen several people in the last week or so post on social media either how blessed they are to have something written by their grandmother, or how they wish their grandmother had written to them. I take that as a not so subtle hint from the Spirit that I need to write something for/to my grandchildren. So this post is for them, a legacy, if you will.<br />
<br />
Each of you are special to me. You are all very different, but all special. There's not much that I wouldn't do for you. I wouldn't give you a million dollars even if I had it (yeah, right), because that wouldn't teach you how to be industrious. Outside of that, I think I'd do anything for any one of you. I'm not going to speak to you in any particular order of birth or by family -- in fact, I'm going to mix you all up so you don't try to figure out who I love more -- because I love you all.<br />
<br />
Savana, I love you because you are easy going. You are an open book. You say it like it is, but never in a way that hurts people's feelings. You are a lovely young woman, and a sweet reminder of your father. You are so much like him. I know that you have a testimony of the gospel. Keep that in your heart for a time when you are able to return to church. Never forget that you are Heavenly Father's precious daughter, and He loves you.<br />
<br />
Jocelyn, every time I look at you I get tickled. You are such a character and have such great determination. Nobody is ever going to be able to get the best of you, because you are going to stand up and let the world know you are here. Don't you ever doubt that you are loved! Don't you ever think that we didn't love you as much as our other grandchildren because you are adopted. Being adopted makes you special in a whole different way. Your parents fought hard to get you, and we cheered them on every step of the way. You are loved!<br />
<br />
Kaitlyn, you are quite a little charmer. You are busy and you definitely have a mind of your own. This will take you places you can't even dream about. You have a smile that can melt butter. You are young yet, but I think you have a great sense of "mothering." I've watched you with my dog, Oreo, and there is a tender connection with animals, too. You make me smile when I'm near you.<br />
<br />
Ben, you have a great personality, and a wonderful smile. You could sell snow to an Eskimo with that smile. You have developed a photography interest that could be an answer to your future if you use your talents for good. If it doesn't turn a profit for you, at least you will have a hobby that you love. I know that if you use your talents for good, you will find your place in this world -- whatever you end up doing. As you look for a partner in life, look for someone with a kind heart and a winning attitude.<br />
<br />
Joey, you have a heart of gold. You are kind and loving. You are a gentle soul. Be as determined as you are kind. Stay close to the gospel. You can have a wonderful wife someday, because you are the kind soul that girls look for in a husband. So when you go looking for a wife, look for what is on the inside. You want to marry a kind soul too.<br />
<br />
Haley, you are full of bullets and are going to go places. No one will ever be able to take advantage of you, because you're going to let them have it. You are so much like me that it's funny. A word to the wise: Learn from my mistakes; you don't have to repeat them. You will take anything bad and put it to work for you. Don't be afraid to let people get close. We are different in one way. You have the personality to pull it off where I didn't.<br />
<br />
Eli, I'm writing this on your third week birthday, so I don't know you that well yet, but I'm looking forward to getting to know all about you. I just want you to know I love you, and I'm happy you are here. You are a special little baby, and I love to cuddle you in my arms. Even though you are too young yet for me to know you all that well, I want you to know I love you. Your middle name, Bernard, is after my grandfather. We called him Pa. He was a great man, and you have inherited his honorable name. Take good care of it. Pa used to say, "You always want to keep yourself just one step above the other guy." He didn't mean to look down on other people. What he meant was to keep your standards higher than those around you. Be honest and true.<br />
<br />
Michael, you are such a character -- and so smart. Take advantage of that intelligence and keep learning. You can have a great life if you stay close to the gospel and don't stray away from the important things. Never doubt that you are loved because you are adopted! I love you every bit as much as my other grandchildren. Being adopted makes you special in a different way. Your parents worked hard to get you, and the rest of us cheered them on every step of the way. You are loved!<br />
<br />
Sabrina, you are a lovely young woman. You've had adversity in your life, but you are coming out strong. Take the pain from the past and put it to use by serving others. You have empathy for others and can relate to their fears and their trials. Make good use of that. You are beautiful. Remember that your inner beauty is what counts most. Don't lose that, and you will do just fine. I hope that someday you will see it in your heart to find your father's church. He may not have gone to church often, but he did love and have a testimony of the gospel.<br />
<br />
Ella, you are such a lovely child. I love it when you smile. You are young yet, so there are still so many things for me to learn about you. I know that you are kind and loving. You are going to grow up the middle child, and I am a middle child. Just because you are in the middle doesn't mean you aren't important, or that you are not loved. You're going to have to hold your own against those brothers, which will make you tough -- but don't let it make you too tough. Keep that sweet gentle spirit in you always.<br />
<br />
<b>Now for all of you.</b> Look for partners in life that will uplift you and make you better than who you are (which is not to say that you aren't already special :) because you are), but there is always room for growth. Don't look for a spouse that is "cute" or "good looking" -- look for someone who will make you better than you are -- and you will find that each year that person will become even more "cute" to you. Besides, we all grow old and wrinkly very quickly anyway. :) My dad used to say, "When you're thinking about marrying somebody, take a step back and think about how the person will look when they've been up all night with a baby, when they wake up in the morning before they brush their teeth or have combed their hair, when they've been cleaning up puke all day, etc. -- Then, if you still love them, marry them."<br />
<br />
My dad also used to say, "I don't have anything to leave you but a sense of humor." That applies here. A sense of humor will go a long way to making life easy and more beautiful, so if you didn't inherit it, develop it. :)<br />
<br />
Remember who you are and where you came from -- and always hold on tight to the rod and walk the narrow path that will lead you back to your Heavenly Father. Stay close to the gospel, magnify your callings, and honor the priesthood. Please see your way to the temple. I don't want any empty chairs at that big round oak table in heaven.<br />
<br />
I love you all!<br />
<br />
GrannyLaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-73743919203831892242012-05-08T20:21:00.003-07:002012-05-08T20:23:53.058-07:00A Plea for ChildrenA family member is a survivor of childhood leukemia. I have heard his story over the years and marveled at how these children get through the things they have to endure. He was treated for leukemia between the ages of 4 and 9 at the <a href="http://www.cityofhope.org/Pages/default.aspx">City of Hope</a>, which was wonderful to him and his family.<br />
<br />
I called him in preparation for this blog post, and he recalled how scary it was for a 4-year-old to be in the hospital with endless blood tests and spinal taps. Those were the days of parents having to leave the hospital by 9:00 or 9:30 p.m., and he was there alone being aroused in the middle of the night by nurses for vital signs and procedures. (I'm so glad that has changed in most hospitals!) He recalled having bad dreams, going bald twice, and endless nausea. When he was "healthy" enough to go to school, he remembers his legs feeling like rubber and having to crawl off the asphalt to line up for class while the teacher yelled at him for not being fast enough. He talked about how traumatized he was by this disease for a long time. His friend died from leukemia at the age of 7 or 8. The boys lived in the same neighborhood, went to the same elementary school, and were both treated in the same hospital. One lived; one died.<br />
<br />
Having raised children with some health problems (while not nearly as serious as leukemia), I can't begin to imagine the parental torture of watching a child live with things like this on a daily basis.<br />
<br />
<b>What is Leukemia?</b><br />
<br />
Leukemia is cancer that affects the blood and bone marrow where blood cells are formed. Blood cells produced in the bone marrow grow out of control. There are different kinds of leukemia and related disorders. If you are interested in finding out more about the disease, click <a href="http://www.lls.org/#/diseaseinformation/leukemia/">here</a>.<br />
<br />
<b>Why Am I Blogging About Leukemia?</b><br />
<br />
The daughter of a friend of mine (our children grew up as friends) is working on a very ambitious goal. She will be participating in the <a href="http://www.halfmarathons.net/usa_half_marathons_california_nike_womens_half_marathon.html">Nike Women's Marathon</a> in San Francisco on October 14, 2012. This marathon benefits the <a href="http://www.lls.org/">Leukemia and Lymphoma Society</a>. Elizabeth has committed to raise $5,000 for the cause and will be in a training program for the next 5 1/2 months.<br />
<br />
<b>Is This An Efficient Charity?</b><br />
<br />
I did a little homework on this charity. According to their <a href="http://www.lls.org/#/aboutlls/financialinformation/">official financial information</a>, 78.1% of their budget goes to program services. I checked to see how that rates with other charities. According to the <a href="http://www.charitywatch.org/criteria.html">American Institute of Philanthropy</a>, 60% or above is a <i>reasonable</i> amount for program services, with 75% or above considered <i>highly efficient</i> for a charity.<br />
<br />
<b>Can We Help Eliminate Blood Disease?</b><br />
<br />
Medical advances are made every day. We read about them all the time. I'm sure, in time, there will be a cure for these horrible blood diseases. It won't happen without us. Elizabeth is doing her part. Can we help her? If you would like to donate to a good cause, or to follow Elizabeth's progress with the marathon training program, you can go to her <a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/dm/nikesf12/emillerxvf">fundraising page</a>. The best way to donate is by clicking her <a href="http://pages.teamintraining.org/dm/nikesf12/emillerxvf">fundraising page</a>. You will receive an e-mail confirmation of your donation, and Elizabeth will receive notice of the donation.<br />
<br />
<b>Personal Note</b><br />
<br />
I'm very proud of Elizabeth. This is not an easy thing for her to do. It takes commitment and will power to do something like this. I know that when October comes, the experience will have changed her in many ways.<br />
<br />
Please help.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-88949453506477542612012-04-26T11:49:00.001-07:002012-04-26T11:49:34.676-07:00Have I Done Any Good?There is a movement in this country that disturbs me. When did success become evil? What happened to cheering for the underdog who succeeds at the American dream? When was sharing in the happiness of others replaced by envy and greed?<br />
<br />
My family is not wealthy. We live in a neighborhood that my children have dubbed "the ghetto" although I take issue with that description. I don't consider us poor because we have a roof over our heads, we have always had food on the table, our children had shoes and coats, and somehow the bills <i>eventually</i> were paid. In the years when we were raising our children, there was often very creative financing happening. I admit to robbing Peter to pay Paul. I remember taking a sewing needle and punching a tiny hole in one of the zeros at the bottom of a check so that it would take an extra two days to be processed through the bank. <i>Note</i>: This no longer works because of advancements in technology, so don't try it. My children thought that liver and onions was steak until they reached high school and someone ratted on me. We ate a lot of tuna casserole. I shopped at garage sales and thrift stores. My children wore hand-me-down clothing. No, we were not rich.<br />
<br />
So what? So what if my children got through school without a computer or the internet? So what if they never had a game boy or a cabbage patch kid? So what if every tricycle and bicycle they ever owned had fallen off moving trucks and were found by their Dad as he worked in the freeway landscape? It just isn't important. Our life as a family is what is important. The kids learned to live in the real world. They learned to work for what they own, and they learned that there are more important things in life than money.<br />
<br />
BUT -- and this is a big BUT -- So what if many of my children's friends came from money? My children had friends from all walks of life. Some of their friends were very poor, while some of their friends came from wealthy families. So what? My children were taught to respect <i>all</i> people. We would never have looked down on their friends who came from families who <i>did</i> have trouble putting food on the table, or clothes on the children's backs. On the other end, we would never have taught our children to be envious of those children who had the game boys, computers, and cabbage patch kids. We taught our children to appreciate what they had, and not covet the material things that some of their friends possessed. We taught them to look at a person by what is in the heart; not the wallet. That goes for both ends of the spectrum.<br />
<br />
There are some wealthy people in America. Good for them! Most of them have worked very hard for it. They have achieved the American dream. That's wonderful! I'm happy for them! They stand as a testament to hard work and diligence. Some wealthy Americans inherited their money from their parents. Good for them! Good for their parents! What parents don't want to leave a legacy for their children? They have succeeded! Good for them! I'm happy for their success.<br />
<br />
There seems to be an entire movement dedicated to taking down the wealthy and portraying them as evil and greedy individuals. I'm sure there are some who are evil and greedy. I'm equally as sure that most of them are wonderful people who serve others quietly and donate a good portion of their wealth to charity. Is it necessary for them to shout their good works from the rooftops? I would hope not. Instead of judging them, maybe we should look in our own backyard. Maybe instead of asking questions about how the rich are spending their money, we should be asking ourselves, "Have I done any good in the world today?"<br />
<br />
<br />LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-7621142143478478312012-04-23T01:04:00.001-07:002012-04-23T01:08:42.632-07:00Sister White: Prior to Brazil, Brasilia MissionMy daughter, Kaylonnie (Sister White), is serving a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Brazil, Brasilia Mission. She has made many friends in Brazil, and they have reached out to me via Facebook. It has been an honor to get to know her Brazilian friends. They are curious about this young American woman who has suddenly become part of their lives. This post is for Sister White's new friends in Brazil so that they can become acquainted with who she is and what her life was like growing up in Sacramento, California, U.S.A. I have chosen to use mostly pictures, as I feel the pictures tell the story quite well. The pictures are not necessarily in chronological order, but grouped to tell a story.<br />
<br />
There were baby moments.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VbpGR4CfIfkbgobcRczGp-nNdCWeppq78z_60bZBeilLl2fvClkgzjE4mqZJTHQuEXWE-rQnvGkYPFZ4wsAOwecp1vNQpHUcOr6u-xtDTuE28q5XXys-vWl5aGtC_lVl7Us0CI9f-Fbb/s1600/scan0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VbpGR4CfIfkbgobcRczGp-nNdCWeppq78z_60bZBeilLl2fvClkgzjE4mqZJTHQuEXWE-rQnvGkYPFZ4wsAOwecp1vNQpHUcOr6u-xtDTuE28q5XXys-vWl5aGtC_lVl7Us0CI9f-Fbb/s320/scan0001.jpg" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hannah is holding Kaylonnie</td></tr>
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Easter moments.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67L53OuA1P99ifEp4Wy87BaMjiioaRHORBBUSa79Fry2Yn2DecLTtm48DmhwrC2t6Gg3eEm5TOIxT1JrW2PrJvXdFfAtZ0UgMbI2iVJxmrCPQjGmWqEpw6gSP54IZvtd9mhyphenhyphen2aNmJhM8w/s1600/scan0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67L53OuA1P99ifEp4Wy87BaMjiioaRHORBBUSa79Fry2Yn2DecLTtm48DmhwrC2t6Gg3eEm5TOIxT1JrW2PrJvXdFfAtZ0UgMbI2iVJxmrCPQjGmWqEpw6gSP54IZvtd9mhyphenhyphen2aNmJhM8w/s320/scan0004.jpg" width="199" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dyeing Easter Eggs</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easter Fun</td></tr>
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Fun times.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDLEolK-4EGTWkt6dEdE4o9_mdZOViFE7GRz6-9W2zWOQ2P_Zu2KZVjZN5o8pZXormLyQr9P9d4SmK8e3lpPUQqdx_WKZZe2uzBbMB9yT5ZxM8wnnayMYvCmuRCH26zAMWh4HYcvspGx2/s1600/scan0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDLEolK-4EGTWkt6dEdE4o9_mdZOViFE7GRz6-9W2zWOQ2P_Zu2KZVjZN5o8pZXormLyQr9P9d4SmK8e3lpPUQqdx_WKZZe2uzBbMB9yT5ZxM8wnnayMYvCmuRCH26zAMWh4HYcvspGx2/s320/scan0006.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>
Tricycle and bicycle times.<br />
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There was fun at <a href="http://www.fairytaletown.org/">Fairytale Town</a>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdfoOt-rppB6u_hwcic5trvyicHxVVFaBgjdpJ6FAuianXNsMUhcbok90YGkhRht7e34WcRFvsr1jF5VlUY8p7jNt5pV7u5pRLJYmmTMovg_TLkJBgocPJ4NGMOfo-tMBO7lRewcnDZ_r5/s1600/Fairy+Tale+Town+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdfoOt-rppB6u_hwcic5trvyicHxVVFaBgjdpJ6FAuianXNsMUhcbok90YGkhRht7e34WcRFvsr1jF5VlUY8p7jNt5pV7u5pRLJYmmTMovg_TLkJBgocPJ4NGMOfo-tMBO7lRewcnDZ_r5/s1600/Fairy+Tale+Town+1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fairytale Town</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rnBFxbpzEOA_RxhjwDYlZxG2UEchGww2ghYmJfF0a44zWcgSlnzIbSnlZeYjSqQ5eYFsMBNmju5SYOlMJXPADjw3GSs06HAmyCfbheY2T9rWcB-mCDGaD9_sOGfhhuAPAF9GVaNl0Y1a/s1600/Fairy+Tale+Town+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rnBFxbpzEOA_RxhjwDYlZxG2UEchGww2ghYmJfF0a44zWcgSlnzIbSnlZeYjSqQ5eYFsMBNmju5SYOlMJXPADjw3GSs06HAmyCfbheY2T9rWcB-mCDGaD9_sOGfhhuAPAF9GVaNl0Y1a/s1600/Fairy+Tale+Town+2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fairytale Town</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fairytale town pictures from <a href="https://www.google.com/webhp?source=search_app#hl=en&sclient=psy-ab&q=pictures+of+Fairy+Tale+Town+Sacramento&oq=pictures+of+Fairy+Tale+Town+Sacramento&aq=f&aqi=&aql=&gs_nf=1&gs_l=serp.3...13736.19752.0.20009.32.25.0.0.0.7.201.3468.0j24j1.25.0.ou5Q-V19508&pbx=1&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.r_cp.r_qf.,cf.osb&fp=a366a72422fd9740">here</a>.<br />
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Excitement to be in school.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5VhyphenhyphennFExxU0mX_LUE9IHFDsdgDuqXP2WSSKhgOrZtj9TPGukLZLqumWoWChDRQ8O-xYtr-tAEcD0NoAG_a5sI_YiuwOsPkY6CO1u_GYaRxBTQYFPcWaZQPvTkxlqi4ZmV6SiGs6pfqlQ/s1600/scan0009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh5VhyphenhyphennFExxU0mX_LUE9IHFDsdgDuqXP2WSSKhgOrZtj9TPGukLZLqumWoWChDRQ8O-xYtr-tAEcD0NoAG_a5sI_YiuwOsPkY6CO1u_GYaRxBTQYFPcWaZQPvTkxlqi4ZmV6SiGs6pfqlQ/s320/scan0009.jpg" width="176" /></a></div>
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Kindergarten was at <a href="http://schools.scusd.edu/josephbonnheim/">Joseph Bonnheim Elementary School</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qiP8691wntzJ47vDX7Mu5JYE-7CPLd5xKnId-Ex7bcTxTduWPGL8DGIjv9JuXtRcYCpW030A5TBmU-uVjFrEXippDLTehbnm7MgR92HK4NacGdRHK-9-KO4OcyVMVlsdO6iAX08TKXfB/s1600/Bonnheim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qiP8691wntzJ47vDX7Mu5JYE-7CPLd5xKnId-Ex7bcTxTduWPGL8DGIjv9JuXtRcYCpW030A5TBmU-uVjFrEXippDLTehbnm7MgR92HK4NacGdRHK-9-KO4OcyVMVlsdO6iAX08TKXfB/s320/Bonnheim.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Picture of Joseph Bonnheim Elementary from their website (above).<br />
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There were many first day of school pictures.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kaylonnie, Hannah, Ezra (Molly was away at college for this one)</td></tr>
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First through sixth grades were spent at <a href="http://schools.scusd.edu/phoebehearst/">Phoebe Hearst Elementary School</a> in the Basic Education Program.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHioA7ot9tFy_0hn3j1VtncR1sgQG4j5vNAcxpJswjNhJE44OSdilx80bA1rD8FdwoucIpOCMphJk3dx3jG15OrPdAM48-GgotFf_7TFhUnOBz8l7AlOvPmvHrWkWG2EqU5J45czNAyxM/s1600/DSCI0238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHioA7ot9tFy_0hn3j1VtncR1sgQG4j5vNAcxpJswjNhJE44OSdilx80bA1rD8FdwoucIpOCMphJk3dx3jG15OrPdAM48-GgotFf_7TFhUnOBz8l7AlOvPmvHrWkWG2EqU5J45czNAyxM/s320/DSCI0238.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phoebe Hearst Elementary School</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There was growing . . .<br />
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And more growing.</div>
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There were braces.</div>
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There were birthdays, Easters, Christmases, other holidays, and family get togethers.</div>
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We can't forget Halloween!</div>
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Camp Fire Boys and Girls, and Camp Minaluta!</div>
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Top picture is a Camp Minaluta counselor with Kaylonnie and Ezra. Next, Mom and Kaylonnie. Next Ezra and Kaylonnie with the "Hi-Seller" T-shirts they earned for selling LOTS of Camp Fire candy. Next is Kaylonnie and Molly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTVRcnoYisJ_A0CcY13NJONsJz5XlKA-d0ty6yeKvCF7KS5nsbJkGlYhuTLgAl1jn0V8jc3AhGlfWgoPIPzHPifeXaMpowlT1LFSLWO1RjPes61lPmNgQZ4irFr7Jox2Nq7_3PqUr2ftX7/s1600/Ezra+Kaylonnnie+Camp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTVRcnoYisJ_A0CcY13NJONsJz5XlKA-d0ty6yeKvCF7KS5nsbJkGlYhuTLgAl1jn0V8jc3AhGlfWgoPIPzHPifeXaMpowlT1LFSLWO1RjPes61lPmNgQZ4irFr7Jox2Nq7_3PqUr2ftX7/s320/Ezra+Kaylonnnie+Camp.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ezra and Kaylonnie at Camp Minaluta</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kaylonnie (second from left) with Camp Fire Buddies</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ezra, Hannah, Kaylonnie, Molly<br />
The day Kaylonnie received her Camp Fire gown.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canoes on Lake Minaluta</td></tr>
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There were friends.</div>
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There were dog days.</div>
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<div>
Seventh and eighth grade years were at California Middle School.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">California Middle School</td></tr>
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Above picture of <a href="http://www.calmiddle.com/">California Middle School</a> from their website.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">California Middle School</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAB93ihJXKMkflCjSZtL_0TU8g9cRaF4gYleiTUOmve10ZfAg-c-ZpKDp9rS8QtXPDhDyfWmGTi-twZo6SRXIJSOoYTWsnrR_fUDMX-bRfga5yHnYmR5Qf86SRJjp5Tw52ciPZsBbKcECh/s1600/DSCI0235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAB93ihJXKMkflCjSZtL_0TU8g9cRaF4gYleiTUOmve10ZfAg-c-ZpKDp9rS8QtXPDhDyfWmGTi-twZo6SRXIJSOoYTWsnrR_fUDMX-bRfga5yHnYmR5Qf86SRJjp5Tw52ciPZsBbKcECh/s320/DSCI0235.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">California Middle School</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next four years of high school were at <a href="http://www.mcclatchyhs.net/">C. K. McClatchy High School</a>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99u1WYRw47uUY1AKjgimQV4MnMpCGPNvpe1k9t_-NdrMUgpriaprtdGai9MPZqLjW9Lxp5xaMUcfrA-7hoQ1JBUDNbCV6Zl1cR3pHrkTTDFsjmQguZsKygLm4pgXMqJHu1n3pn64TWRTu/s1600/McClatchy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99u1WYRw47uUY1AKjgimQV4MnMpCGPNvpe1k9t_-NdrMUgpriaprtdGai9MPZqLjW9Lxp5xaMUcfrA-7hoQ1JBUDNbCV6Zl1cR3pHrkTTDFsjmQguZsKygLm4pgXMqJHu1n3pn64TWRTu/s320/McClatchy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C. K. McClatchy High School</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Above picture from McClatchy website (above).</div>
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<div>
There were Nauvoo, Illinois moments.</div>
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And Quincy, Illinois moments.</div>
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Before our very eyes she became a young woman.</div>
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There were military balls and prom nights.</div>
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And lots and lots of laughter!</div>
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Many hours were spent preparing for the cultural celebration during the open house and dedication of the Sacramento Temple.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8QITJZvZstSFhsg7YCW7D87ENTu8RWdqRONcs4j7920Oe1EnVKNs3C8hGcJljHBwp0nFyxZyM7n-lbiiqf7mTpKtUbJ06DXqutXETqApJdk4RP80YwCB1y1BknSAK8OrynSgTdjYGFTO/s1600/templevisit,RC081206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp8QITJZvZstSFhsg7YCW7D87ENTu8RWdqRONcs4j7920Oe1EnVKNs3C8hGcJljHBwp0nFyxZyM7n-lbiiqf7mTpKtUbJ06DXqutXETqApJdk4RP80YwCB1y1BknSAK8OrynSgTdjYGFTO/s320/templevisit,RC081206.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYe9eG7YbB7EVlz_6DNiZa8MFHLLogAHFt4b6O6OKqRKrnIhofZL1GEQOc1IX-K735QecyVWzh65wd2JBwMrsYQ_f2fkDStvy9K3Okfgu7MVAw0IVz-xGB4DLg3_5ysUHw89D0kux1T0R/s1600/templevisit,RC,081206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYe9eG7YbB7EVlz_6DNiZa8MFHLLogAHFt4b6O6OKqRKrnIhofZL1GEQOc1IX-K735QecyVWzh65wd2JBwMrsYQ_f2fkDStvy9K3Okfgu7MVAw0IVz-xGB4DLg3_5ysUHw89D0kux1T0R/s320/templevisit,RC,081206.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div>
She began her college education at <a href="http://www.scc.losrios.edu/search/search_results.htm?q=pictures">Sacramento City College</a>.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrNGFNf_HLuCooFXgp7FnRrmZVHUUtt_tJDYAj8nPuFg-qxguSVWpSJsCJHOohYt3bZEhbAYf6qEM3LKsy3EJB6Tp7Br4ogOSRdjo5uqEDgaY1MCUAs59t6XDrKjad_SCs2awN8O6edifB/s1600/Sac+City.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="40" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrNGFNf_HLuCooFXgp7FnRrmZVHUUtt_tJDYAj8nPuFg-qxguSVWpSJsCJHOohYt3bZEhbAYf6qEM3LKsy3EJB6Tp7Br4ogOSRdjo5uqEDgaY1MCUAs59t6XDrKjad_SCs2awN8O6edifB/s320/Sac+City.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sacramento City College (from their website above)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO4z8gy-saukqzI_ANWgNTB-hepVabpJWDhsL5NkPBj9TQfgbx8DgZ8uTPPDzcdEING5y2IXke2Aag1HxbstwhaGXG0ZNIKn-R_DFjOPp8_kd9KI-UOWqOXaKhknCP_ebjx6Exdc4PA7U3/s1600/DSCI0232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO4z8gy-saukqzI_ANWgNTB-hepVabpJWDhsL5NkPBj9TQfgbx8DgZ8uTPPDzcdEING5y2IXke2Aag1HxbstwhaGXG0ZNIKn-R_DFjOPp8_kd9KI-UOWqOXaKhknCP_ebjx6Exdc4PA7U3/s320/DSCI0232.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sacramento City College</td></tr>
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<div>
Sorry, the above picture was the best I could do. I was not able to get a decent picture of Sacramento City College. Parking is a problem nearby, and I had to stand across Freeport Boulevard, which is extremely busy. It took me several minutes to snap a picture between vehicles. Unfortunately, an internet search didn't provide any pictures either.</div>
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A lot of college time was spent at the LDS Institute of Religion across from the Sacramento City College campus. She learned so much here and her testimony really blossomed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX7sYCETutUrGC_wUJJCbvifEdtIWtKWWimtG92ni6-wGRqnAfN3Cs0Z63ZC-Jtx8HKOjoikNcI1txcn9BANfustkvv1D08k14lJ8JsYKFtgkFsujx3UP1-nQKxMhZjr1S0wV32tebG7zf/s1600/DSCI0227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX7sYCETutUrGC_wUJJCbvifEdtIWtKWWimtG92ni6-wGRqnAfN3Cs0Z63ZC-Jtx8HKOjoikNcI1txcn9BANfustkvv1D08k14lJ8JsYKFtgkFsujx3UP1-nQKxMhZjr1S0wV32tebG7zf/s320/DSCI0227.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LDS Institute of Religion at Sacramento City College</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAy-Doqkby3Ev9aUGzg9ZhbS-3GI7-GCQM0NHv0l6jYJOyStOWf14RBEF7muwQxu6v3dhbV17PHKq0g4cpSvgaH5a4zNG-thmyQxRXoRPbbmv3a4mvESyfRsP3pMPJ7314XONENu4jWOM9/s1600/DSCI0228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAy-Doqkby3Ev9aUGzg9ZhbS-3GI7-GCQM0NHv0l6jYJOyStOWf14RBEF7muwQxu6v3dhbV17PHKq0g4cpSvgaH5a4zNG-thmyQxRXoRPbbmv3a4mvESyfRsP3pMPJ7314XONENu4jWOM9/s320/DSCI0228.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">LDS Institute of Religion at Sacramento City College</td></tr>
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She was known as "Miss Kaylonnie" when she worked at <a href="http://www.childcaresmiles.com/profile/CenterProfile.aspx?P=radcliffe&SC=ca&S=Y">Radcliffe Academy</a> as a daycare assistant.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8R8BybLSGt7zZKm9DCohM5U85rttQQ9MwdOTcbJlmtZMnWuBCzsddtufXG9XoqGvB92VwGRoEC8hsM0gk2u4f16fWocxvg7xGic998WBlSTv0BBgwlUIVhepa_oBGgjQdyeYaz3nkDuCI/s1600/Radcliffe+Academy+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8R8BybLSGt7zZKm9DCohM5U85rttQQ9MwdOTcbJlmtZMnWuBCzsddtufXG9XoqGvB92VwGRoEC8hsM0gk2u4f16fWocxvg7xGic998WBlSTv0BBgwlUIVhepa_oBGgjQdyeYaz3nkDuCI/s1600/Radcliffe+Academy+1.jpg" /></a></div>
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Radcliffe Academy picture from <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=photos+of+Radcliffe+Academy+Elk+Grove&hl=en&prmd=imvns&source=lnms&tbm=isch&ei=ugGVT8OZIuSziQK8nLz5Dw&sa=X&oi=mode_link&ct=mode&cd=2&ved=0CCUQ_AUoAQ&biw=800&bih=485&sei=3AGVT7CQBqixiQLBhNUc">here</a>.<br />
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There were pizza nights at <a href="http://www.romaspizzeriasacramento.com/">Roma's</a>.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIh7Hf2YxCf0J0r6HSC88OgXBDNa6biP256DP_NjceOqlSALiV0DbppsdxV443wlosmCru6fr8SkdazN_OvRUIcfsb2i0fuCoFqXU0EQU0IZGn_IVk2cAqa3Si3K5t3ecXdFgrz1_nQ-7/s1600/Romas+pizza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIh7Hf2YxCf0J0r6HSC88OgXBDNa6biP256DP_NjceOqlSALiV0DbppsdxV443wlosmCru6fr8SkdazN_OvRUIcfsb2i0fuCoFqXU0EQU0IZGn_IVk2cAqa3Si3K5t3ecXdFgrz1_nQ-7/s1600/Romas+pizza.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roma's Pizza from their website (above)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiASYiX9KeNrPk_ZQFDmUMyg_uN4DW7WzGyx0uMyC8RUKibdxceaf9hI23a2O8vFaSGNof4odCzKQ6Js47vE54psJ15ajjIdeBIomZ5qKj4eLIFASpRLehM5ihhUufK51zyuS0rETXGdo-B/s1600/Roma's+Building.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiASYiX9KeNrPk_ZQFDmUMyg_uN4DW7WzGyx0uMyC8RUKibdxceaf9hI23a2O8vFaSGNof4odCzKQ6Js47vE54psJ15ajjIdeBIomZ5qKj4eLIFASpRLehM5ihhUufK51zyuS0rETXGdo-B/s320/Roma's+Building.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roma's Pizzeria</td></tr>
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Above picture from <a href="http://www.romaspizzeriasacramento.com/">here</a>. (Roma's doesn't look great from the outside, but they have the best pizza ever!)<br />
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There were ice cream nights at <a href="http://www.gunthersicecream.com/">Gunther's</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7UI4Aw4dKzUTXwUl0o-GPjUW4KePPZ9c_OZfACJxn1-PFfnanvghjL6rC1mhq9uV20FbUYZm8AlBme8IOcVtUWuGhHwyanffECd_6g10c8s47U-QYtca2COo5uG1BVylD0F293BcaEd-0/s1600/Gunter's+Good+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7UI4Aw4dKzUTXwUl0o-GPjUW4KePPZ9c_OZfACJxn1-PFfnanvghjL6rC1mhq9uV20FbUYZm8AlBme8IOcVtUWuGhHwyanffECd_6g10c8s47U-QYtca2COo5uG1BVylD0F293BcaEd-0/s1600/Gunter's+Good+2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG7ylfk5LIFsbgeDd_pOh7MTIvmTQXznlFSRc6w8Vi9e94hTEyIwIj6qzIE3KUqeQCG353gGLOQWR584GxFjE3hCq8AkIilJhJbheiQpatx1Cn98wB6ko-kH7DfKXhmPWFWzWWd99s-Pni/s1600/Gunther's.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG7ylfk5LIFsbgeDd_pOh7MTIvmTQXznlFSRc6w8Vi9e94hTEyIwIj6qzIE3KUqeQCG353gGLOQWR584GxFjE3hCq8AkIilJhJbheiQpatx1Cn98wB6ko-kH7DfKXhmPWFWzWWd99s-Pni/s320/Gunther's.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnmzSBUAgXEfYMbv2htpwgu-33Bd30bhvJjOfYhBL43rIbd4Whuc7sBQ0vWLCrY5Gw7QMGWIcMHthMHpylQmtRcIzgVJ8H1lfHqNOJIwPx0hDSUvkqmHXQq_A9t6FNpuo0lpsjBS9qw_L/s1600/Gunther's+Joe.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRnmzSBUAgXEfYMbv2htpwgu-33Bd30bhvJjOfYhBL43rIbd4Whuc7sBQ0vWLCrY5Gw7QMGWIcMHthMHpylQmtRcIzgVJ8H1lfHqNOJIwPx0hDSUvkqmHXQq_A9t6FNpuo0lpsjBS9qw_L/s320/Gunther's+Joe.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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Pictures of Gunther's from <a href="https://www.google.com/webhp?source=search_app#hl=en&sclient=psy-ab&q=pictures+of+Gunther's+Ice+Cream+Sacramento&oq=pictures+of+Gunther's+Ice+Cream+Sacramento&aq=f&aqi=q-A1&aql=&gs_nf=1&gs_l=hp.3..33i29.2199.17611.0.18291.44.42.1.0.0.0.331.9189.0j13j25j4.44.0.QteOsXHgz3M&pbx=1&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.r_cp.r_qf.,cf.osb&fp=a366a72422fd9740">here</a>. (Molly, Hannah, and Ezra all worked at Gunther's in high school too.)</div>
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There was a mission call.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhU8hJKnlVaFmlSZvyKa0qTLtWxc5ilNKkUVlufPFnm2SS4ybcUWG5k0r4V1QqAzePH-XBPmwhk8gnpZgrwxtuL31RjW9kngUCSzCTt8tSHmzDe-EktyqiKHDRgJ5WPU-hfAAkkMggcGQ/s1600/DSCI0055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKhU8hJKnlVaFmlSZvyKa0qTLtWxc5ilNKkUVlufPFnm2SS4ybcUWG5k0r4V1QqAzePH-XBPmwhk8gnpZgrwxtuL31RjW9kngUCSzCTt8tSHmzDe-EktyqiKHDRgJ5WPU-hfAAkkMggcGQ/s320/DSCI0055.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And a missionary farewell.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicMiGDFVuhJ1bp3xren7DOYMOvQB_oJLUhoQAS1tf9E7O6E_Owf0CUjrk8OFKvEYLnpBCoitV6WbHg7WNUZiQWh5Xh5kExjBq4PkpvSt4zP_XIwJpK-YXSWh_mp3R0c-g5NHTB57zGVDbM/s1600/KSW's+Farewell+8-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicMiGDFVuhJ1bp3xren7DOYMOvQB_oJLUhoQAS1tf9E7O6E_Owf0CUjrk8OFKvEYLnpBCoitV6WbHg7WNUZiQWh5Xh5kExjBq4PkpvSt4zP_XIwJpK-YXSWh_mp3R0c-g5NHTB57zGVDbM/s320/KSW's+Farewell+8-11.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Taken by Rachel White, Vintage Bloom Photography</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWM8zaYerKKUGJvfw9V6lHr6-0n-gcEiQAK88Dzl65UPCyTHcG9J-suSstAU3lxv4l1Chkj6CJawYDI1MCLPo3whETjg1jjHEzE8Up54WZJQsHrw6ayqvfTPsedRITKng7Pfp39lrJ-EWH/s1600/Kaylonnie+Mom+&+Dad+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWM8zaYerKKUGJvfw9V6lHr6-0n-gcEiQAK88Dzl65UPCyTHcG9J-suSstAU3lxv4l1Chkj6CJawYDI1MCLPo3whETjg1jjHEzE8Up54WZJQsHrw6ayqvfTPsedRITKng7Pfp39lrJ-EWH/s320/Kaylonnie+Mom+&+Dad+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Taken by Rachel White, Vintage Bloom Photography
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Over the years there were sibling pictures and family pictures.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwJaYB4-qKj8-4p3VjhXeAD2kCvI7PW_iFl800VjAoxK7Qusj5QV4rwKVw1CxmaFbfpN-97-huIMCpQs_5JthEbxelvp59QlStHU8YukVOAgeq7YkbAh1hPPm7L6GtWA4FZFXSkDGGmW8/s1600/scan0032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwJaYB4-qKj8-4p3VjhXeAD2kCvI7PW_iFl800VjAoxK7Qusj5QV4rwKVw1CxmaFbfpN-97-huIMCpQs_5JthEbxelvp59QlStHU8YukVOAgeq7YkbAh1hPPm7L6GtWA4FZFXSkDGGmW8/s320/scan0032.jpg" width="237" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0sxLfCdqi8hegrY3kkqI1wyQzVoGAGiUw8tVViiN2JNBeGkx1bZC7ZErXM7FD0-wcBWZtsZ2-iUSfgUCc_1yLofd2qit57fSt31o8NME6yZqdu9AUpt9PCvvdAhENhyjRJ5SduGWMtei/s1600/scan0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0sxLfCdqi8hegrY3kkqI1wyQzVoGAGiUw8tVViiN2JNBeGkx1bZC7ZErXM7FD0-wcBWZtsZ2-iUSfgUCc_1yLofd2qit57fSt31o8NME6yZqdu9AUpt9PCvvdAhENhyjRJ5SduGWMtei/s320/scan0033.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Above family photos taken by Courtney Farnworth</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div>
And even eternal pictures.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97lXUUbbneRC8cSacs5US6HGlgSSADfzFTJNHvxVReG3ffdnoWXzvbA9Gwacd2mBCo7PMyPkAtMODAvyuCI9M8xGSrb4O1MefbD6NaeAbOPZ08jvFmKltLv-Hzd5s9C_rEdlsJeWJUxrO/s1600/Temple+Sealing+12-18-93.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97lXUUbbneRC8cSacs5US6HGlgSSADfzFTJNHvxVReG3ffdnoWXzvbA9Gwacd2mBCo7PMyPkAtMODAvyuCI9M8xGSrb4O1MefbD6NaeAbOPZ08jvFmKltLv-Hzd5s9C_rEdlsJeWJUxrO/s320/Temple+Sealing+12-18-93.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oakland Temple Sealing Day Pictures Taken by Cecelia Takahashi</td></tr>
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Sister White, the missionary.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnx_YgFsWllnSsJSYBqt4Ye6clS_NTH4UYqGLoqxyIMWZJg4UDuL2TUirDzQdyUdH6u8GTkAkiqxqAEPRuepFT8ikeRJoiZSL4DYQWa1tqXVtuZW0LtJE4NPeX6VDgpa7gWYBAZ_pRODy/s1600/MTC+9-28-11.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixnx_YgFsWllnSsJSYBqt4Ye6clS_NTH4UYqGLoqxyIMWZJg4UDuL2TUirDzQdyUdH6u8GTkAkiqxqAEPRuepFT8ikeRJoiZSL4DYQWa1tqXVtuZW0LtJE4NPeX6VDgpa7gWYBAZ_pRODy/s320/MTC+9-28-11.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Missionary Training Center</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-53288338782623810112012-04-21T05:27:00.000-07:002012-04-21T05:27:57.500-07:00Mission BlessingsI gave this talk in Sacrament Meeting, LDS Sacramento First Ward, January 22, 2012.<br />
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I’m not sure why I’m speaking twice in just a few weeks, but I figure this should get me off the hook for a while now—at least I’m crossing my fingers.</div>
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The scripture that Kaylonnie chose for her missionary plaque that hangs by the Bishop’s office is 1 Nephi 11:17. Nephi has just been shown in vision the Virgin Mary, and asked if he understands what it means, or “Knowest thou the condescension of God?” This is Nephi’s answer:</div>
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“And I said unto him: I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things.”</div>
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I e-mailed Kaylonnie and asked her why she chose that scripture, and this is what she said:</div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">“I love that verse because as much as I like to think I know a lot, the spirit reminds me all the time that I really don´t know anything and I need to be humble. Also something I see all the time here is people in the world are really confused and lost when it comes to their beliefs and how to live their lives. Having a knowledge of the restored Gospel and knowing that Heavenly Father loves me makes EVERY minute of this work easier. No matter how much we are rejected or have false doctrine thrown at us, I can remember this scripture and thank Heavenly Father that I don´t have to feel as confused and worried about life as most people in the world. Also if you run out of things to say, I was torn for weeks between 1 Nephi 11:17 and 2 Nephi 4:20-21.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">I looked up that second scripture, and it says:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial;">“My God hath been my support; he hath led me through mine afflictions in the wilderness; and he hath preserved me upon the waters of the great deep. He hath filled me with his love, even unto the consuming of my flesh.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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The scripture on her plaque means something a little different to me, though similar in a way. I feel the love of my Heavenly Father and the love of Christ every day of my life. That feeling of being loved is what sustains me. I don’t know the meaning of all things, either. There is a lot about the gospel that I don’t understand. I don’t think we’re <i>supposed</i> to understand everything. Besides that, I’m not a scholar; I have a very simple mind. I was also inactive for 20 years so I feel like I’m always playing catch up. I wasn’t raised in the church, really. My parents joined the church when I was 10, but did not stay active very long. I’ve learned, though, that <i>understanding</i> the gospel or <i>understanding</i> scriptures isn’t as important as being <i>obedient</i> to the principles of the gospel and having <i>faith</i> that what I don’t understand will be explained to me sooner or later, whether in this life or the next.</div>
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Sacramento First Ward has a very unique situation with three missionaries in the field at the same time. I don’t think that’s ever happened in the many years that I’ve been in this ward. I know it happens in other wards, but this is not something that happens in our ward. It is a great blessing.</div>
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Each time my children have served a mission, our family has been blessed. We never told any of our kids that they were going to serve a mission. This was something that they chose for themselves. As each one has left, I’ve wondered why they have such great testimonies and why they are so strong. I was inactive all the time Molly and Hannah were young, and until Ezra was about nine years old. Even though I was active when Kaylonnie was little, I still struggled for a long time. I don’t know why these strong individuals came to me. Maybe they needed to teach me.</div>
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I asked Danny how he felt our family has been blessed by our children’s missions. He mentioned that he felt our kids have been strengthened in their marriages because of their missions. I think he’s right.</div>
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One of the great blessings we have received as our children have served missions is being able to watch them really <i>grow up</i>. The growing experiences they have in the mission field are invaluable. There is no way you can put a price on that. There is nothing that can replace it. They go away as children and come back as adults. They see people in the real world with real problems.</div>
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Ezra thought he lived in the Ghetto until he went to Uruguay and saw what it <i>really</i> means to be poor. He saw apartment buildings that had no sewer hook ups, so when it rained the sewer ran down the street. He walked up the hills in the rain against that sewer, and his shoes smelled like it when he came home. I wouldn’t let him in the house with them. He learned to appreciate the mail service in this country after living through three separate mail strikes in Uruguay in two years. He also learned to appreciate the honesty of our postal workers because in Uruguay they open and steal anything that they can use or that might be of value.</div>
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Hannah went to Russia and learned about spousal and elder abuse, mental illness, and alcoholism. She learned when she called the police in an abuse case, they won’t come until they know an ambulance is there, and the ambulance won’t come until the police are there. When both agencies finally arrive, they look to the Mormon elders (who came quickly at her call) to go rescue the woman from the crazy guy who had beaten her within an inch of her life. Hannah also learned that if you have to go to the hospital, you need to remember to take money and toilet paper with you. She learned the meaning of freedom when she didn’t have it in Belarus. Phone calls were tapped and e-mails were read. She learned what it means to be followed by the police.</div>
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Molly learned about racial prejudice on her mission when she spent the night in a Boston hospital with a Hispanic woman who was in labor because no one else would go with her. I find it interesting that Molly was later blessed with two adopted children. One is full Hispanic; the second Hispanic and Polish. Molly learned what poverty is when she painted over graffiti in a tenement building and helped put a roof on someone’s house to keep out the rain.</div>
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Kaylonnie is learning too. She has also learned to appreciate the U.S. Mail. Dad and I sent her three bubble envelopes of stuff for Christmas. The first two envelopes were mailed right after Thanksgiving, and the third about a week before Christmas. I knew she wouldn’t get the third one on time, but I was really hoping she would get the first two. She didn’t have <i>any</i> of them for Christmas. She e-mailed on January 9th and said that she had <i>finally</i> received <i>one</i> of the first two envelopes. Last Monday she e-mailed and said she had finally received the other two bubble envelopes. Just before Christmas she was thrilled that she had gotten several cards from her Dad and a second letter from Sister Conrad. I think at that point she knew that was going to be it until after Christmas. Fortunately, we were able to Skype with her for Christmas so we could actually see her face on the computer as well as hear her voice. We’ve never been able to Skype with a missionary before, so that was pretty cool. I don’t know what experiences she will have on her mission, as she hasn’t been out that long, but I do know that she will have them. Just like the other kids, she will come home with a whole different view of the world and her place in it. That is a huge blessing!</div>
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I’ll read just a small part of her e-mail last Monday:</div>
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“The weather is awful here!! It is cold and it has rained every day this week! I would give anything for a raincoat and another sweater or two. Apparently the 6 months of DRY heat and absolutely zero rain starts in April. I thought I was on the southern hemisphere?!? Apparently not! I´m pretty sure my least favorite thing is wearing wet shoes every day and my second least favorite thing is running in the rain during exercises at 6:30 in the morning. I thank Heavenly Father for Sundays, Mondays, and Tuesdays because I don´t have to exercise in the rain. :D And I loathe Wednesdays when I know there are four days of running ahead of me. HaHa. As much as I walk and walk my hate of real exercise hasn´t changed. You´d think after walking miles and miles every day I wouldn´t be bothered by it. I guess some things never change.”</div>
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Yes, she is having experiences in Brazil and learning a lot. One of the things she is learning is that when the mission list says raincoat, even though there are no raincoats available in Sacramento stores in August, you listen to Mom and buy one on line.</div>
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There are other blessings that come through missions. It was during Matt’s mission that I became active in church again. I did not become active <i>because</i> Matt served a mission, but during that time the Lord was working on me through many different sources. Everywhere I turned, it seemed, there was something to evidence to me that I needed to get myself back here.</div>
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For many years my family has prayed that my younger sister would find happiness. She is five years younger than me, and has never been married. She has been greatly blessed in her life in other areas. She has traveled the world and seen and done things that the rest of us can only dream about. She has had exceptional jobs that have brought her wonderful experiences. The one blessing she really wanted, however, a family, never seemed to happen. A while back she met a wonderful man. He has two daughters; one who is almost grown, and one who still has some growing left to do. We had been praying that they would get married, but things were moving pretty slowly—at least not as quickly as the rest of us would have liked. We want <b><u>happiness</u></b> for my sister. We love him and want him in our family. We want my sister to have the opportunity to help raise his younger daughter. As hard as we prayed, it didn’t seem to us like it was ever going to happen. Then Kaylonnie left on her mission. My sister’s wedding is now planned for April 7th. They are not getting married <i>because</i> Kaylonnie is on a mission. There is no doubt in my mind that they would have gotten married <i>eventually</i>. My sister is too smart to let this guy go. The timing of this marriage, however, is quite interesting to me. <i>Reasonable</i> people might say that it would be better for them to wait for the economy to take an upturn. My sister is the most <i>reasonable</i> person I know. She is <i>reasonable</i> to a fault. So it is nothing less than a <i>miracle</i> that this marriage is going forward in April. That I will say is a missionary miracle. If our family receives no other blessing while Kaylonnie is gone, that will be fine, because this is a truly wonderful blessing for our family.</div>
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I say this in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.<br />
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<b><u>Addendum</u>:</b> While I gave this talk on January 22, 2012, I have waited until April to publish it here. My sister is now married. I didn't publish this because I didn't want to jinx the wedding!</div>LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-87572185736610317342012-04-12T22:03:00.000-07:002012-04-12T22:03:27.510-07:00Significant/Insignificant Moments<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQmEaFVIXP4T132gMOrDt7roxp7rUx-7BhjeYpMYfjsukDQRoszqYQs_2ie5C2RgRtXr4_FG7DYHYT5Yjt-G1zgRMotH1HdC4uqfiiULyVL52dUbIHFiJpaO9LkgTdEyzSLn8BReQTGnX/s1600/Kaylonnie+Crop+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidQmEaFVIXP4T132gMOrDt7roxp7rUx-7BhjeYpMYfjsukDQRoszqYQs_2ie5C2RgRtXr4_FG7DYHYT5Yjt-G1zgRMotH1HdC4uqfiiULyVL52dUbIHFiJpaO9LkgTdEyzSLn8BReQTGnX/s1600/Kaylonnie+Crop+1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kaylonnie White</td></tr>
</tbody></table>You never know how one person is going to touch another person's life. About 11 years ago the lady who lived across the street from us, Ruth, had a stroke and was very ill. My daughter, Kaylonnie, who was then about 11 years old, and her neighborhood friends drew a picture as a get well card and they all signed their names and gave it to Ruth.<br />
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While the kids wanted to do something nice for Ruth, I'm sure they never understood the significance of that little homemade get well card. Kaylonnie is almost 22 years old now, and her friends are about the same age. I'd be willing to bet that none of them even remember giving Ruth that little card. It was an insignificant moment in their lives.<br />
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Ruth passed away a couple of months ago. Her daughter, Lolly, is in the process of clearing out Ruth's house to rent. Today she walked across the street with Ruth's card and handed it to my husband. She told Danny that Ruth had kept it on the bulletin board in her room all these years. What was a tiny insignificant moment in the lives of these children, was a very significant moment in the life of one very ill little old lady.<br />
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Kaylonnie's birthday is coming up, and she is currently in Brazil serving a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Tonight I packaged up some goodies in two bubble envelopes to send to her for her birthday -- the traditional care package of peanut butter, Fiber One bars, Crystal Light, Ranch flavored Doritos, etc. In one of the envelopes, I carefully placed Ruth's card, with a note explaining to Kaylonnie the significance of the card to Ruth. I told her to compare it to missionary work. She may say something today that she doesn't even realize will be of great significance to someone -- and she may <i>never</i> know it. I told her that when she gets discouraged, that she needs to look at Ruth's card and remember what it meant to Ruth.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-22774534149142357412012-04-12T00:07:00.000-07:002012-04-12T00:07:04.429-07:00He Rarely Repeats a Mistake<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMYWMh83NpDN95wVFt1FwNTnou6BM9KbkMfBjQjD0tY41hioCyFj9xzDPTguFzbb7NF5nxwFnCapiAXEgcatUGIPcyOj36jQMcFyIa1AldjbKtB-WGVkzwCH_XaokZ-VbwkSGnjzuBZN80/s1600/Danny+4-7-12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMYWMh83NpDN95wVFt1FwNTnou6BM9KbkMfBjQjD0tY41hioCyFj9xzDPTguFzbb7NF5nxwFnCapiAXEgcatUGIPcyOj36jQMcFyIa1AldjbKtB-WGVkzwCH_XaokZ-VbwkSGnjzuBZN80/s320/Danny+4-7-12.JPG" width="109" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny 4-7-12</td></tr>
</tbody></table>One thing I've always admired about my husband is that he truly tries not to repeat mistakes--even the minor ones.<br />
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Years ago when the block buster movie "Titanic" came out, everyone was raving about how wonderful it was. Everyone except me, of course, because I hadn't seen it. I usually let my husband pick the movies we see because he gets such a kick out of it. Apparently, he wasn't interested in seeing "Titanic." One day I teased him about the fact that I was the only girl on the planet who had not seen the movie. He scheduled a date night and took me to see "Titanic."<br />
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In honor of the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, the 3D version of "Titanic" just came out, and he didn't wait this time. We saw it this afternoon. Seeing the movie was great, but being reminded of how much my husband values our marriage was priceless. It's a small thing, and if I had never seen <i>either</i> version of the movie it wouldn't have been the end of the world, or even our marriage. The effort that he made to please me, however, does not go unnoticed. As a matter of fact, it will be cherished forever.<br />
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One of the reasons I think we have a good marriage is because this is Danny's second marriage. He tries really hard at this marriage because he doesn't want a second mistake. To say that he gives 110% would be putting it mildly; he gives his all--and THAT is why I love him.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-74155493053687929352012-04-08T22:52:00.001-07:002012-04-09T10:32:03.084-07:00Billiards, Weddings, and Bridesmaid Wranglers<div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">My baby sister, Colleen (Coke), got married yesterday. We've prayed for many years that she would find the love of her life, and prayers were finally answered. She not only found the love of her life, but this family couldn't have hand-picked someone to fit in better with our family.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ4QHsvarRilidRaGYMG9ie85uEcGILfNlya7FzI4uzwna2SmdG85a7PVt0taNosRJRwh6CEaEjEAxQnQR9CvEn5bLP9CEzdOyiFR77m6pM1WDeZ5LyimAWgjAQXpINh5BXP81JXVTDCza/s1600/Bride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ4QHsvarRilidRaGYMG9ie85uEcGILfNlya7FzI4uzwna2SmdG85a7PVt0taNosRJRwh6CEaEjEAxQnQR9CvEn5bLP9CEzdOyiFR77m6pM1WDeZ5LyimAWgjAQXpINh5BXP81JXVTDCza/s320/Bride.jpg" width="122" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bride -- Colleen</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">It was a very fun wedding -- and I don't normally like weddings. Colleen was as relaxed and happy as I have EVER seen her. She just made this one big party. Our niece, Jodi and our nephew's son, Isaak played a flute/keyboard duet. I didn't see it because I was "wrangling" in the hallway (see below), but I could hear it. It was lovely.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Coke assigned me "bridesmaid wrangler." Since my second daughter is too pregnant to travel to the wedding, her children, Joey and Ella, weren't there to be included in the "wrangling," which gave me 9 bridesmaids and 4 ushers. Our cousin, Jim Cain, had the easy part as "Usher Wrangler" mostly because his ushers were older. He only had one usher that was little. We had the ushers walking with two bridesmaids on each side. Each of the bridesmaids carried a flower. There were lilacs from my bushes, daffodils from my sister, Cheri's yard, and a few other varieties from who knows where. After the ushers and bridesmaids walked in, George's daughter, Katie, walked alone as the Maid of Honor. Then I scooted in to my seat quickly so that I could see our brother, Rick, walk Colleen down the aisle.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhfm_gZURAVXdPvHY10eoM2Lykp0rINGBBgUg4nOg8JRMWWlQ0tJDRH33sCwMlp0bwZqHc7Ma1JJQKnEnZ8mmTQqG1M6SSUV7zhFGBa18-4ccoYZ0W-4Gf6JKhGU6lvM5F8LYiwyF7F7Nc/s1600/DSCI0216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhfm_gZURAVXdPvHY10eoM2Lykp0rINGBBgUg4nOg8JRMWWlQ0tJDRH33sCwMlp0bwZqHc7Ma1JJQKnEnZ8mmTQqG1M6SSUV7zhFGBa18-4ccoYZ0W-4Gf6JKhGU6lvM5F8LYiwyF7F7Nc/s320/DSCI0216.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wrangle Mania</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgWRvUb4GyqYLRrkes8Eua995rznpU4M54K-JIG4BVvYiJjMskZ4uYZhkXa97ludYYXk0uinDnWl7faBwbTSVP3pjqCHpftoKmnVWFCUKVImyL0_JK7e8FsiKT78gc-QQdT5tSlau27wM/s1600/DSCI0217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbgWRvUb4GyqYLRrkes8Eua995rznpU4M54K-JIG4BVvYiJjMskZ4uYZhkXa97ludYYXk0uinDnWl7faBwbTSVP3pjqCHpftoKmnVWFCUKVImyL0_JK7e8FsiKT78gc-QQdT5tSlau27wM/s320/DSCI0217.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR1gKPextW0FQjvUyq2SWeEXLbUiDG9EcWF6bpqGPhToOcw2ucIfj17J3uXemjoGa4f8RuVxEgfyjVo3tvit_4wcqwFOVqINUAiTsbSyFuUlIlgefuYu4ie6l4jpyPoNih4O_cmJBucxg_/s1600/DSCI0218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR1gKPextW0FQjvUyq2SWeEXLbUiDG9EcWF6bpqGPhToOcw2ucIfj17J3uXemjoGa4f8RuVxEgfyjVo3tvit_4wcqwFOVqINUAiTsbSyFuUlIlgefuYu4ie6l4jpyPoNih4O_cmJBucxg_/s320/DSCI0218.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Unfortunately, before I sent the kids walking into the ceremony, I made the mistake of giving Coke a hug. She looked beautiful, and I don't know why I hadn't prepared myself that I might cry, but I hadn't. It never occurred to me that I would turn into waterworks! I burst into tears, and then she did. We got it together and then when Rick walked her down the aisle I lost it again, which made pretty much everyone else lose it too. I feel really bad about that! Then during the party I was so tired, and she played two of my Dad's favorite songs, and I bawled again. When the first one started to play, she was dancing with George facing the other direction. She said, "George, Laurie's crying, isn't she." Gee, thanks! I'm so predictable!</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">I teased Jim Cain after the rehearsal that he had a much easier job "wrangling" the ushers than I had with the bridesmaids. So just before the wedding, he came to me to show me how I could keep my bridesmaids in line. He had a taser gun. We were laughing. At any rate, he decided to taze thin air to show me (and the kids behind me) the snap, crackle, and pop. Apparently, my rowdy bridesmaids got the message, because they were extremely reverent throughout the ceremony! Ya gotta love cousin Jim!</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">The bridesmaids sat on the floor to the right of Colleen and George, with the ushers sitting on the floor on the left. After the ceremony, Coke and George walked out first, and the ushers were to escort the bridesmaids back out (which meant me rounding them up off the floor and putting them in order again). Jocelyn had taken her lilac apart, so I grabbed the flower, grabbed the leaves, threw them in her hand and closed her hand around them. Katelyn had started to get a little restless on the floor during the ceremony, so we motioned for her to go to her Dad, Ezra, (who we sat close for that reason). So she had to come back up front to find her usher. It was all very cute, but I was exhausted!</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Steve Woodbury, Colleen's bishop (and we grew up with the Woodbury kids), performed the ceremony. He talked about three important items in a marriage: appreciate, communicate, and contemplate. Coke was so nervous, she didn't hear any of it, but Steve had a printout, and he gave it to her.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">The wedding took place at <a href="http://www.stmarysartcenter.org/html/main.html">St. Mary's Art Center</a> in Virginia City, Nevada. In the Virginia City mining boom days, St. Mary's was the hospital. It is considered the most haunted place in Nevada (and for good reason). The ceremony itself took place in the artist's studio up on the 3rd floor, so it was a climb. There are 4 floor and no elevators -- and some of us are OLD! The wedding was at 2:00 p.m., then we did pictures. At 4:00 p.m. was the party. They had asked instead of gifts, guests bring an appetizer for the party, which were spread out on the first three floors, so people went up and down and mingled, which was nice. At 5:00 p.m. we had dinner. Food was set up in the "breezeway" which is a little hallway. It is the area where they used to perform autopsies in the old hospital days. Then you could take your plates wherever you wanted. There were tables set up in the "carriage house" on the other side of the "breezeway." The carriage house is the old morgue. The horse-drawn buggies used to come to the entrance of the morgue to pick up the bodies for burial. There is also a nice long table in one of the two kitchens where people congregated to eat. (One kitchen we used just for food prep.) They also set up tables on the 3rd floor artist's studio where the wedding was held.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">This is a picture of <a href="http://www.stmarysartcenter.org/html/main.html">St. Mary's</a> from their website:</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Oy0uL741ozh4FfknGLXY55C1HSV-3dFPekF1ZkhhKTuDJx03QXm4A35AYQ-PMOusndL4jYJ3I1f_soB4Yu10UL8GCXwiDvjLx0xkYx4hbhQal-DJ2kPC9_3IE8I9VnQW-ATg0GJ6G3_J/s1600/St.+Mary's+from+web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Oy0uL741ozh4FfknGLXY55C1HSV-3dFPekF1ZkhhKTuDJx03QXm4A35AYQ-PMOusndL4jYJ3I1f_soB4Yu10UL8GCXwiDvjLx0xkYx4hbhQal-DJ2kPC9_3IE8I9VnQW-ATg0GJ6G3_J/s1600/St.+Mary's+from+web.jpg" /></a></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">This is last year's family reunion picture at St. Mary's:</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwMvRv2sXYTXdBwIG_voVz710h7pQkmF66FqccNG_SMJDVITI6yaNLCbSBBZRIW8rbsMVZNeYT83tyYTNfYCuuE2kbzPwHgLtIP_AnOHYf_6D_Ci1TejKItxqeV3x8Q2iMfqm_fiomOM8/s1600/Family1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwMvRv2sXYTXdBwIG_voVz710h7pQkmF66FqccNG_SMJDVITI6yaNLCbSBBZRIW8rbsMVZNeYT83tyYTNfYCuuE2kbzPwHgLtIP_AnOHYf_6D_Ci1TejKItxqeV3x8Q2iMfqm_fiomOM8/s320/Family1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">After dinner, our nephew, Todd, was the DJ for the dancing. He borrowed an expensive sound system from someone. The only reason the man loaned it to him is because Todd is his IT guy and showed the man how to use the system. Colleen hand picked the music -- and she has great taste in music -- so it was wonderful. George's family all love to dance, and the rest of us were all just in party mode, so there was a LOT of dancing. Cheri's old roommate, Marsha, commented to me that brides usually hire expensive bands and nobody dances, but last night pretty much everyone danced. My little granddaughters, Haley and Kaitlyn, were out on the dance floor pretty much the whole time doing ballet, or whatever, right in the middle of it all.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMelbZespa0RcgCPans5NkA8TyZrkNOKtLirm046wpU2R6wyHV__l651j0N3sZhpeK6-tyF-BK_Wy6EgnFuYvU9hFj7CCieE4X77pp-Uhia9jSvJN9zkpFrZPNuMik9bBSYVOqeJAoQ9I6/s1600/Todd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMelbZespa0RcgCPans5NkA8TyZrkNOKtLirm046wpU2R6wyHV__l651j0N3sZhpeK6-tyF-BK_Wy6EgnFuYvU9hFj7CCieE4X77pp-Uhia9jSvJN9zkpFrZPNuMik9bBSYVOqeJAoQ9I6/s320/Todd.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Todd with his assigned task</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">My daughter-in-law, Rachel, was the professional photographer, and she took a ton of pictures so I'm sure she has her hands full editing. I only took a few. As usual, I enjoyed visiting and forgot to take pictures. Most of the weekend my camera hung around my neck unattended. Some of the pictures here were taken by the bride herself.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYaiDV5xQISpevKdPPaMGlg5Z5UFhj793o1OohYXHkbtmx7R5FYBMWaVeovvVRjAB6M0_waxaY1lcVQ5YIXVkTuXVG9BGs8HQeC6mELYIgvGcDSe38BYGtB1UIiS9bog5lzJo8Qf8uIudm/s1600/George+&+Rachel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYaiDV5xQISpevKdPPaMGlg5Z5UFhj793o1OohYXHkbtmx7R5FYBMWaVeovvVRjAB6M0_waxaY1lcVQ5YIXVkTuXVG9BGs8HQeC6mELYIgvGcDSe38BYGtB1UIiS9bog5lzJo8Qf8uIudm/s320/George+&+Rachel.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George & Rachel, our busy photographer</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Coke and George are avid pool players so that was the theme for the wedding. The bulletin board behind where they were married was covered in pink paper with two pool cues. They didn't have a cake, only cupcakes. The cupcakes were pool balls with numbers on them in different colors. The cupcake table was decorated to look like a pool table. The "cake toppers" were a bride and groom 8 and 9 balls.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAyqp0S9J-F4_NvFKRv-oLDnSAvdO-fcsYyu3mxexey9EWejd0v9CccSdXlgn5ZDQqvKovrvUNOldbdPo7aw_yYJ_oW5qvvuyJT-uxTccVHnw-5LtvpyeEBTmj52OCpCpovTSZoiprfajO/s1600/Decorations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAyqp0S9J-F4_NvFKRv-oLDnSAvdO-fcsYyu3mxexey9EWejd0v9CccSdXlgn5ZDQqvKovrvUNOldbdPo7aw_yYJ_oW5qvvuyJT-uxTccVHnw-5LtvpyeEBTmj52OCpCpovTSZoiprfajO/s320/Decorations.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYH2YqUGa4YfLM7EX9a1w4xmBmcGfr4albgV7rFcXm2k2Xp4_YdVM_CBQWa3hIuXTijI_Sr40hvA1nViiHyHXpEDFDJ-ByYbxnNO4TgnCoFs1ksbMW4_Pq6LLeyd-INzLObNKPM3m3RWH/s1600/Bride+&+Groom+8+&+9+ball+cupcakes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYH2YqUGa4YfLM7EX9a1w4xmBmcGfr4albgV7rFcXm2k2Xp4_YdVM_CBQWa3hIuXTijI_Sr40hvA1nViiHyHXpEDFDJ-ByYbxnNO4TgnCoFs1ksbMW4_Pq6LLeyd-INzLObNKPM3m3RWH/s320/Bride+&+Groom+8+&+9+ball+cupcakes.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 9 ball has a really long veil in back!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Colleen is OCD and is into spreadsheets. I go on record as hating spreadsheets. However, I have to admit that this time the spreadsheets actually worked. Everyone had an assignment, knew what the assignment was, and the whole shindig went off without a hitch.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">The little girls in the family were assigned as "bathroom fairies" and were responsible for making sure there was plenty of toilet paper and paper towels in the bathrooms. For the party, Coke had special paper wedding towels and rose petal soaps for the bathrooms, and the bathroom fairies were in charge of making sure they were disbursed to all the bathrooms. Darci was "head fairy" and my brother's wife, Kathy Janes, was the supervisor (but her job was easy because Darci is pretty OCD too). Darci had a time schedule for her fairies to check their assigned bathrooms. Since only one of the fairies knows how to tell time, she had to round them up and tell them when it was time to go on duty. Darci had a sign for each bathroom, such as "B1" for Bella 1, and "H2" for Haley 2. I don't know how many bathrooms they each had, but there are a ton of bathrooms in that place.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Rooms are rented out at St. Mary's, so some of us actually stayed there. Some stayed Friday and Saturday nights, and some just Saturday night. Some commuted from other locations. This is quite an experience -- remember it is the most haunted place in Nevada. :)</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">This morning we all got packed to go home, and then at 10:00 a.m. we had an Easter egg hunt on the lawn in front of the building. The kids had a great time. George's daughter, Katie, was in charge of getting the baskets together and hiding the eggs. She asked George's niece, Tricia, to help her. We hadn't met Tricia before, but she is a real sweetheart. We all absolutely ADORE Katie! If I wasn't old, I'd steal her for my own.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJj2PbIChb8YmYJt6KF2jC-02VKaNlfXXqleZU-75_b0O6XoanpJMwvs2DmrrnRoCsjBdrHz3u-kPD_z9-ISigm1C2gLzSRO5ByXL73cbsU2MIbuyB9t50-_e5Kl6U4lPpzKx5xxWZnxz/s1600/George+&+Katie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJj2PbIChb8YmYJt6KF2jC-02VKaNlfXXqleZU-75_b0O6XoanpJMwvs2DmrrnRoCsjBdrHz3u-kPD_z9-ISigm1C2gLzSRO5ByXL73cbsU2MIbuyB9t50-_e5Kl6U4lPpzKx5xxWZnxz/s320/George+&+Katie.jpg" width="304" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George & Katie Father/Daughter Dance</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Apparently, the families introduced Tricia and my nephew, Mikel, to each other via the internet a couple of months ago, and they have been talking. They met for the first time this weekend, and let me tell you, Mikel is smitten with this girl! Colleen and George didn't really get the "first" dance because Todd was playing music long before Colleen and George got in there, and Mikel asked Todd to play some slow dances. They danced for a LONG time before Coke and George got there -- and they danced all night! Mikel actually stayed at St. Mary's Saturday night! He wouldn't do that during the family reunion last year. (Haunted places are not for everyone.) They were soooo cute together!</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAELCv8wEjC7Ah8DWx2yLx-zt51h8hRTkRGWPr4FYn7sXnWVwUWhjIYMSG4fCLCHodwGPhjOUf4SMUtPxZ7SPABGuEeNNHOckTJb7xR2Yc07FGsiZE6UPSsMvezz0mDsfJDJES-EXI3Hl/s1600/Mikel+&+Tricia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAELCv8wEjC7Ah8DWx2yLx-zt51h8hRTkRGWPr4FYn7sXnWVwUWhjIYMSG4fCLCHodwGPhjOUf4SMUtPxZ7SPABGuEeNNHOckTJb7xR2Yc07FGsiZE6UPSsMvezz0mDsfJDJES-EXI3Hl/s320/Mikel+&+Tricia.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mikel and Tricia</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">George had two of his sisters and one niece there. Let me tell you, they are characters. They fit right in to the family! They live in Michigan (3-hours ahead of us), and George picked them up at the airport in Reno Friday night. They got to St. Mary's after 9:00 p.m., which was after midnight their time. When they got there, a bunch of us were gathered in chairs by the stairwell on the 2nd floor in our jammies chatting. Apparently, they were quite impressed by this because this is something that they would do. They got in their jammies and joined us, tired as they were. One of George's sisters, Denise, was quite smitten with my granddaughter, Jocelyn, and they became great buddies.</div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdvsRALKVtIJgJcP38zQmEdXJlmZ2I8_Y-Pdd4r3mmK8HxvZrtzls058UFQivdlhDkzCgAndUBq8EXIlSH-8s7jx5PQiHN5Ak0_fCqQOrBqzt0uO0YfcQ70AGxnkL43wsj0aJ5j0aSlSl/s1600/Cheri+&+George's+Sister.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdvsRALKVtIJgJcP38zQmEdXJlmZ2I8_Y-Pdd4r3mmK8HxvZrtzls058UFQivdlhDkzCgAndUBq8EXIlSH-8s7jx5PQiHN5Ak0_fCqQOrBqzt0uO0YfcQ70AGxnkL43wsj0aJ5j0aSlSl/s320/Cheri+&+George's+Sister.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sister, Cheri (left), with George's sister Denise</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">George and Colleen, may you have happiness together! You deserve it more than anyone I know. We love you!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhayvfWnfBakU-yG78hXQUJ4n8jGQZE-VxjdV5qXLzMll02IEsSjcslCz-yDvVzvwHMD0_yFolFr85AISrssUlUdrc9CMrbtqsIDrXzFEKZbeh77Fat5teAQnm2XMgAlUAvYj-KDOGUyruq/s1600/Newlyweds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhayvfWnfBakU-yG78hXQUJ4n8jGQZE-VxjdV5qXLzMll02IEsSjcslCz-yDvVzvwHMD0_yFolFr85AISrssUlUdrc9CMrbtqsIDrXzFEKZbeh77Fat5teAQnm2XMgAlUAvYj-KDOGUyruq/s320/Newlyweds.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Rachel at Vintage Bloom Photography</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Find Vintage Photography here: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/VintageBloomPhotography">https://www.facebook.com/VintageBloomPhotography</a><br />
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</div>LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-20699589782174646012012-04-01T17:28:00.000-07:002012-04-01T17:28:38.438-07:00Reveling in the WarmthAs a member of <a href="http://www.lds.org/?lang=eng">The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints</a>, I've just participated in a two-day event called General Conference where we hear speakers from the leaders of the church. There are four general two-hour sessions and an extra session for the men (which the women can view on-line) over the weekend. This happens twice a year; the first weekend in April, and the first weekend in October.<br />
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At the end of each conference, I marvel at the warmth I feel in my soul. Conference is a time to take stalk of our lives, set new goals, and renew commitments with the Lord.<br />
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I've had the privilege the last couple of years to participate in on-line chatter via social media during conference. We share conference quotes, impressions, thoughts, and ideas. We make new friends in the process, and strengthen friendships with others. We have conversations with others not of our faith, and more friendships are formed. I learn a lot from these people.<br />
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I don't own a laptop computer, or any fancy cell phone technology. My computer is not in the same room with the television where I watch the sessions of conference. So I participate on-line between sessions of conference. This has forced me to take good notes during conference so that I can go back to the computer and talk about what I've heard. Do you know how many years I've been told to take notes during conference? Do you know how many years I ignored that counsel? Well, I can now say that the counsel is wise. I learn a lot from taking those notes. :)<br />
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As conference came to a close today, I felt such a renewed commitment to the gospel. I'm exhausted from two days of "filling my cup" and then talking about it on three different social media networks, but it's a good kind of tired. It's the kind of tired that says, "you've got your work cut out for you, but it's okay because the Lord is there to help."<br />
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General Conference is not just for members of our faith, but for all people. If you have never participated in a session of General Conference, I highly recommend that you watch a session or two on-line <a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/sessions/2012/04?lang=eng">here</a>. You can watch the videos, listen to the audio, or download the texts. (Texts may not be available for a few days.) Do yourself a favor and "fill your cup" and enlighten your mind. Fill your heart with good things.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-39871453601977623442012-03-29T00:22:00.000-07:002012-03-29T00:22:34.676-07:00On Cloud NineMy husband and I went to the <a href="http://www.ldschurchtemples.com/sacramento/">temple</a> this morning to spiritually prepare for this weekend's General Conference for <a href="http://www.lds.org/?lang=eng">The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints</a>. We also happened to have tickets tonight to a <a href="http://www.jackieevancho.com/us/home">Jackie Evancho</a> concert of "America's Got Talent" fame. My husband had given me the tickets last December for our anniversary, and it just happened that the concert was a few days prior to this weekend's General Conference. I'm on a spiritual high. There is nothing like quiet time to ponder in the temple followed by listening to Jackie Evancho sing "<a href="http://www.jackieevancho.com/us/music/dream-me">The Lord's Prayer</a>" (among other things). What a way to prepare for General Conference!<br />
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I was so impressed by Miss Evancho's charm. She is a totally unassuming, sweet, amazing young woman. When she is singing, she is "in the zone," and has this huge adult voice. Upon completion of a song, she drops her shoulders, flips her hair, and tugs at her shoulder straps like every other kid her age. She has this tiny speaking voice on the microphone that was difficult to hear when she introduced the young man who is touring with her. At one point, she finished a song and said, "Well, I hope you enjoy intermission," and then left the stage. She is just a little girl with a huge talent -- a God given talent. I hope we hear good things from this young woman down the line. I hope her parents keep her from getting a big head, and that as she grows into a teenager she isn't consumed by the evils that lurk around every corner of the industry because she has a gift.<br />
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If anyone in the <a href="http://mormontabernaclechoir.org/">Mormon Tabernacle Choir</a> is listening, Jackie Evancho would be an outstanding guest at a Mormon Tabernacle Concert or "<a href="http://mormontabernaclechoir.org/info/matsw">Music and the Spoken Word</a>."<br />
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I'm looking forward to General Conference this weekend, and I feel like I'm well prepared to feast on the words of the prophets. I can hardly wait!LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-71183527383026045692012-03-28T15:27:00.000-07:002012-03-28T15:27:48.385-07:00This Is Why I Could Not Be An AttorneyAs I type this, I'm listening to the oral argument in the United States Supreme Court regarding Obamacare. I've spent a lifetime watching attorneys prepare for oral argument in many courts, including the United States Supreme Court. They carefully draft their arguments, and tediously prepare their delivery of those arguments. It is a really good thing that I'm not an attorney because if I spent that much time and effort to prepare, I would appreciate the Court at least giving me a chance to speak.<br />
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Mr. Clement is the attorney who is representing 26 states in this mess that is Obamacare litigation. He has done a remarkable job! I must say that there is a reason I'm not an attorney. If I were Mr. Clement, I would have thumbed my nose at the Justices and stormed out of the Court in frustration. He was only a few seconds into his argument before the Justices began interrupting him, and not necessarily with <i>questions</i>, but with <i>attacks</i>. I want to scream out sometimes, "If you shut up a second, he'll answer your question!" At least the Justices seemed to be equally rude to opposing counsel, if that's any consolation.<br />
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It seems to me that the Justices have their own agenda, and that agenda is to convince their colleagues of their own positions; not to listen to oral arguments. May I suggest that there is a time and a place for that, and that's not at oral argument? Oral argument should be reserved (in my humble opinion) for the attorneys to give their final pitch to the Court, and for the Court to ask any questions or clarify any points in the attorneys' briefs.<br />
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I have incredible respect for these people, these wonderful attorneys who spend their lives feverishly defending the law and protecting the Constitution--for me. They have incredible patience--patience with clients, patience with the public who really give them a bad rap, and patience with the Court (who sometimes get a little full of themselves). Okay, as a layperson, I've said my peace.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-46793065539214770712012-03-24T08:00:00.017-07:002012-03-24T08:00:01.532-07:00Come Listen To A Prophet's Voice<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMz_Lpck1nYkKvsC4s0OBIyjX367dEl2XHEQwc5_AeN_MwVybrhV4nmIEKbevycIm98rXemo9xm8bsYqyYsC_l8c3FPAhakDEnpoD4LFkrATBOv-YHpCdjh7-BioHOBEkgfOOHE1QIhZ1/s1600/Monson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMz_Lpck1nYkKvsC4s0OBIyjX367dEl2XHEQwc5_AeN_MwVybrhV4nmIEKbevycIm98rXemo9xm8bsYqyYsC_l8c3FPAhakDEnpoD4LFkrATBOv-YHpCdjh7-BioHOBEkgfOOHE1QIhZ1/s320/Monson.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture from here: </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.lds.org/?lang=eng">http://www.lds.org/?lang=eng</a><a href="http://www.lds.org/?lang=eng"><br />
</a></div><br />
Humility has never been one of my strong points. I take a lot of things for granted. I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormon). We believe that Jesus Christ is the head of the Church, and through His guidance we are led by living prophets and apostles, just as the Church was led when Christ was on the earth. As a kid, I used to watch LDS Conference on television (we only received one session on television in those days), and it never occurred to me how blessed I was to be listening to living prophets giving counsel. The older I get, the more appreciation I have for that counsel. What a marvelous opportunity it is to live on the earth at a time when we have living prophets! Technology has advanced to the degree that we can live stream all sessions of conference, and have the videos to replay within hours. The printed version is available later so that we can painstakingly study, highlight, and ponder the written word.<br />
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There is always so much to take into our hearts each conference that it is difficult to pick just one thing from the conference six months ago to share. However, there is something that I've thought about often over the last six months. The President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, President Thomas S. Monson, who we believe to be a prophet of God, said the following:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #2f393a; line-height: 18px;">"We must be vigilant in a world which has moved so far from that which is spiritual. It is essential that we reject anything that does not conform to our standards, refusing in the process to surrender that which we desire most: eternal life in the kingdom of God. The storms will still beat at our doors from time to time, for they are an inescapable part of our existence in mortality. We, however, will be far better equipped to deal with them, to learn from them, and to overcome them if we have the gospel at our core and the love of the Savior in our hearts."</span> </span> </blockquote><br />
President Monson goes on to counsel that if we want to be <i>in</i> the world but not <i>of</i> the world, it is important that we communicate with our Heavenly Father through prayer. This is something that I've given much thought to over the past six months. I struggle every day with things all around me that are inappropriate at best and outright vulgar at worst. I recently wrote a blog post about part of this struggle <a href="http://lauriebeesfamilyhive.blogspot.com/2012/03/moving-line-of-appropriateness.html">here</a>. The one thing that I've been able to take comfort in is President Monson's counsel to communicate with my Heavenly Father. Prayer has indeed been a great comfort to me and has helped me to muddle my way through the mud.<br />
<br />
General Conference is coming our way again Saturday, March 31, 2012, and Sunday, April 1, 2012. Conference can be viewed on cable and satellite systems, as well as live streamed <a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference?lang=eng">here:</a> As usual, I'm starved to hear the word of the Lord through our living prophets and apostles, as well as others who sought for inspiration in preparing for this conference. I pray that I'll be in tune with the Spirit and hear the message that my Heavenly Father wishes me to hear.<br />
<br />
I hope you will join with me in hearing the counsel of the Lord.<br />
<br />
<object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,47,0" height="270" id="flashObj" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://c.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f9?isVid=1&isUI=1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="flashVars" value="videoId=1470686243001&linkBaseURL=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.lds.org%2Fgeneral-conference%2Finvite-others%3Flang%3Deng&playerID=680215106001&playerKey=AQ~~,AAAAnipXZ6E~,M1TCnNhLxEKd5ft3d6_opUyOzxpih9Jg&domain=embed&dynamicStreaming=true" /><param name="base" value="http://admin.brightcove.com" /><param name="seamlesstabbing" value="false" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="swLiveConnect" value="true" /><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /><embed src="http://c.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f9?isVid=1&isUI=1" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashVars="videoId=1470686243001&linkBaseURL=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.lds.org%2Fgeneral-conference%2Finvite-others%3Flang%3Deng&playerID=680215106001&playerKey=AQ~~,AAAAnipXZ6E~,M1TCnNhLxEKd5ft3d6_opUyOzxpih9Jg&domain=embed&dynamicStreaming=true" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" name="flashObj" width="480" height="270" seamlesstabbing="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" swLiveConnect="true" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"></embed></object>LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-3151949655366908562012-03-23T07:00:00.001-07:002012-03-23T07:00:04.161-07:00What's In A Number?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2yAOcZv4zvg35tUr7Mf0zGHf9ESm328yxXlLOUtrbAYqfmeUUsOGuZ4N34FVZ49LtcbBkfGKACnsuZ0usniaX0L2pZ6AxnUi80C3ysRjCef1L9GCNrPWrd14EZYDiN1_0u6VavUGJHlVV/s1600/Uncle+Sam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2yAOcZv4zvg35tUr7Mf0zGHf9ESm328yxXlLOUtrbAYqfmeUUsOGuZ4N34FVZ49LtcbBkfGKACnsuZ0usniaX0L2pZ6AxnUi80C3ysRjCef1L9GCNrPWrd14EZYDiN1_0u6VavUGJHlVV/s320/Uncle+Sam.jpg" width="258" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Picture from here: <a href="http://www.unclesamphotos.com/">http://www.unclesamphotos.com/</a></div><br />
Ever since I received my first paycheck as a kid, I've always loved to caress it in my hands for a few minutes before writing the deposit slip and putting it in the bank. All the years that I worked, there was something rewarding about that little piece of paper. It was more than the money it represented; it was a tangible reward for hard work. In recent years, I bucked the system as employers encouraged direct deposit. There are so few rewards in the work place that I just refused to relinquish holding that check, even if it was only for a few minutes.<br />
<br />
Danny paid into Social Security his entire life. We were recently informed that in a few months direct deposit will be <i>required</i> in order to receive his Social Security check. Aside from the fact that I believe Danny should have the right to decide how he receives his Social Security, does anyone besides me see the stupidity in relinquishing your bank information to the government?<br />
<br />
We've all watched Big Brother become increasingly entangled in every aspect of our lives. There are cameras at stop lights, TSA agents who pat down little children, and our social media exchanges are monitored. Our backyards are monitored by satellite equipment. There is absolutely no such thing as personal privacy anymore. On some level, I understand that the world is becoming an increasingly dangerous place to live and that <i>some</i> of these things might be necessary. At what point do we draw the line? Some of us are no longer convinced that the government is still the good guy with the white hat. (For my younger readers, the old westerns on television and in the movies always had a hero who wore a white hat, and a villain who wore a black hat.)<br />
<br />
I suppose we have no choice but to surrender our bank information to the government because we need my husband's Social Security check, but I don't have to like it, and I don't have to be quiet about it. I find this to be an incredulous breach of individual freedom. What ever happened to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? My "life" is my own business--and that's called "liberty." My bank account pretty much <i>is</i> my life since it pays for my "pursuit of happiness." Our government is supposed to be by the people, of the people, and for the people. A government that <i>requires</i> my bank information is not a government <i>for</i> the people. Our government has crossed the line--again.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-20242432456718057412012-03-22T09:45:00.001-07:002012-03-22T09:47:18.883-07:00What Happened to Customer Service?Times are tough these days, and I understand the need for merchants to cut costs. The trend seems to be to cut customer service and replace human help with self-checkout and automation. May I suggest that a little customer service goes a long way to keep customers?<br />
<br />
Prices for goods and services are rising at an alarming rate, yet the consumer is often left bagging his own groceries, punching computer buttons, and doing her own banking. Why are we not objecting to this? I think it began many years ago at the gas pump. Admittedly, I'm old enough to remember driving into a gas station, rolling down the window, and saying "fill 'er up." In addition to the full tank, windows were washed all the way around, and oil was checked. Americans accepted the idea of pumping our own gasoline as a novel idea a long time ago when gasoline was under $1.00 a gallon. May I suggest that if I'm now going to pay $4.27 (or more) for gasoline, that possibly a little customer service might be in order?<br />
<br />
When ATM machines first came on board, we were promised that we would never pay a fee for using that machine? I said hogwash. How many of you are paying a half dollar now and then to use an ATM?<br />
<br />
When I first moved to Sacramento in 1973, I set up a checking account and a savings account at Bank of America. I married my husband in 1976, and he also had his accounts at Bank of America, so we just closed out our separate accounts and began joint accounts there. At some point Bank of America actually began charging us for the "privilege" of having a savings account -- at which time we closed that savings account. Last year they informed us that our Christmas Club account would be permanently closed. There's customer service for you! After all these years, I would think that I could walk into the bank and do my banking without being personally attacked by every single teller about the fact that I don't use the ATM machine, and that I don't have a Versateller card. I shouldn't have to get nasty to get customer service. If you want me to continue to do my banking in your bank, then provide me with customer service!<br />
<br />
Over the years, my family has spent thousands of dollars on groceries at Raley's. We shopped at less expensive stores when my children were small and the budget was tight. Stores moved in and out of our area, and at some point after I went back to work full-time, we decided that good fresh vegetables and decent meat at a conveniently located Raley's was worth paying the extra price (although we certainly watch for bargains elsewhere). Recently, Raley's has begun moving to "self-checkout." I'm sorry, but if you want me to continue to pay big bucks for good quality fruits, veggies, and meat, then you darned well better provide the customer service to go with it!<br />
<br />
Consumers: We are in a recession. I suggest that this might be the perfect time to demand better customer service for your dollar. If they want your money, let them work for it. Begin doing business with those companies that really <i>want</i> your business. If they want your business, they <i>will</i> provide that customer service -- but not until we speak up.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-53242100388967650402012-03-20T16:01:00.000-07:002012-07-19T09:31:47.155-07:00Have Things Really Changed for Women?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizHGxs6vTsfLBUOMiTC3uvyNiMEQltPGvdKkeoVgvDUP0iWDFLHOEbxHkxyTo4EiNe2d7zH5M3h_VrNqbNs5IlrWZzjzI8_lHihMROE6Q3wWXBTs5965Bt2dmTmDvFRu7Cm8FC3XORwCuI/s1600/Typewriter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizHGxs6vTsfLBUOMiTC3uvyNiMEQltPGvdKkeoVgvDUP0iWDFLHOEbxHkxyTo4EiNe2d7zH5M3h_VrNqbNs5IlrWZzjzI8_lHihMROE6Q3wWXBTs5965Bt2dmTmDvFRu7Cm8FC3XORwCuI/s1600/Typewriter.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Picture from here: <a href="http://www.123rf.com/stock-photo/manual_typewriter.html">http://www.123rf.com/stock-photo/manual_typewriter.html</a> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I had a discussion on social media this morning that was generated by this quote:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I, myself, have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is. I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a door mat or a prostitute."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
-- Rebecca West</blockquote>
<br />
The discussion was whether women have really moved forward, or whether we move forward and backward simultaneously. It was pointed out to me that children growing up today see women on television accomplishing everything under the sun, and they assume they can too, and that it has always been that way. One of the women told me that she feels that we aren't telling the story of the struggle for women's rights.<br />
<br />
I have to admit that this discussion was an eyeopener for me. I know that I've talked about the struggle with my own kids (at least my daughters), but I wonder if they really understand. Will life for my granddaughters move forward or backward? Who will be their role models? Will they stand up and be counted? Will the term "feminist" be something they are proud of, or something they are ashamed to admit is part of who they are?<br />
<br />
My oldest daughter is an aeronautical engineer who has helped design and launch satellites. My second daughter has two degrees and a good government job. My third daughter is currently on an LDS mission in Brazil, but a year from now will be coming home to finish her education and pursue a career in her chosen field. Will my granddaughters be afforded experiences equal to their expectations in life?<br />
<br />
For the benefit of my granddaughters (who will someday be old enough to read this), I'm going to tell my own story below -- but I don't want my grandsons to tune out -- because you are part of the story -- you need to be aware, as well. You need to treat your female counterparts as your equals.<br />
<br />
I grew up in a time when women were encouraged to be secretaries and nurses. Period. Yes, there were some women who held other jobs, but it was certainly not encouraged. They struggled to get those positions, and they fought hard to keep them. After they received those positions, they fought for their reputations because it was <i>assumed</i> that the only way they could possibly have gotten those jobs is by sleeping with the boss. They were not paid the same amount their male counterparts were paid (and often still are not). Girls were often not encouraged to go to college, nor were they encouraged to take college prep classes in high school. There were certain "male only" classes in high school. My father fought with the school when my older sister wanted to take mechanical engineering, as it was considered a "male only" class.<br />
<br />
While there is still sexual harassment in the work place, at least it is talked about and discouraged these days. Most large companies have some sort of sexual harassment training, and sexual harassment policy. I was 17 years old working in the bakery of our local grocery store when the baker backed me in a corner against the wall and I couldn't move. The only recourse I had was to hit the street looking for another job. If I had told my employer, they wouldn't have believed me, and if I had told my father, he would likely have killed the baker. I had no other choice but to leave and find other work.<br />
<br />
My mother was a strong willed feminist, although she would not have used that label. During World War II, she was Deputy County Clerk in Carson City, Nevada. She issued everything from dog licenses to marriage licenses. She took court testimony in shorthand. She was present for marriages and divorces. At the end of the war, women were expected to leave those positions, go home, have babies and do diapers to leave those jobs open for returning servicemen. She did just that. She was my father's unpaid secretary for many years. When he got sick and could no longer work, she found herself on the street looking for a job with no "experience" except to say that she was my father's unpaid secretary. Mom was a fighter, and she found employment as the office manager at an Episcopal church. The priest hired her because his only requirement was that she <i>not</i> be a member of the church so she wouldn't be involved in church politics. Mom had never used anything but a manual typewriter, but saw the advent of the computer and took the opportunity and ran with it. I'm ashamed to say that Mom learned computer technology before I did.<br />
<br />
My father was a conundrum. He wanted his children (male and female) to have all the opportunities we wanted, yet he was often baffled by our choices. As I said above, he went to bat for my sister when she wanted to take a "male" class. However, he discouraged me from becoming a writer because it wasn't "a dignified enough profession for a lady." If I had pushed on that one, I'm sure he would have supported me, but I never pushed back where Dad was concerned. I became a legal secretary.<br />
<br />
When I was in business college, times were really tough. We were in the midst of a recession and an energy crises. Lines were long at the gas pump, and girls I knew at business college were pumping gas for good money. I made the mistake of suggesting that I do this, and Dad hit the roof! No daughter of <i>his</i> was <i>ever</i> going to pump gas! So I took a job for a lot less pay filing billings at an insurance company -- and almost starved to death for the next several months. I needed to lose weight anyway, but that was a hard way to do it!<br />
<br />
When I first became a legal secretary, there were almost no female attorneys. Those few women attorneys had to be tough! They were fighting a constant uphill battle to be taken seriously by clients, other attorneys, and the court. Women are now thriving as attorneys, running Bar Associations, and becoming respected judges and justices.<br />
<br />
<b>What I Want My Grandchildren to Remember:</b><br />
Heavenly Father put us all on the earth together. He put us here to love one another and help one another. We are equal partners in all things. We need each other -- the male and the female.<br />
<br />
My granddaughters: Take pride in yourselves and in your bodies. Realize you are daughters of God. You are of royal birth. You don't have to be door mats. Stand up and be counted, but treat men with the respect they deserve.<br />
<br />
My grandsons: Take pride in yourselves and in your bodies. Realize you are sons of God. You are of royal birth. You are not here to stomp on women. You can do <i>nothing</i> Godly without your counterpart. Treat women with the respect they deserve.<br />
<br />
It's all about respect, people. What legacy will we leave?<br />
<br />
<b>Note:</b> Thank you Carole Riley, Tessa Keough, and Celia Lewis for opening my eyes this morning, and for Denise Morgan Kalicki for originally sharing the quote by Rebecca West.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-36356921457470207862012-03-08T19:02:00.000-08:002012-03-08T19:02:04.678-08:00A Day to RejoiceToday is International Women's Day. I usually just check off days like this just like any other day. Yes, women have come a long way -- especially in the last 100 years -- but we have a long way to go.<br />
<br />
This afternoon I saw this day in a different light. I saw it as a day to rejoice. My phone rang this morning, and my daughter asked me to babysit this afternoon. She is pregnant with her third child and had a doctor's appointment this afternoon. Her husband wanted to go with her to drive because she is having Braxton Hicks contractions, or what we used to call in my day, false labor. With or without the fancy name, it stinks, and it's miserable.<br />
<br />
Grandpa and I played with the grand kids and fed them dinner. My daughter looked absolutely miserable when they picked up the kids a few minutes ago. I was hoping she was on her way home to go to bed, but she is actually on her way to a church meeting. She is Primary President (head of the organization for the children -- think Sunday School) for our LDS congregation, and there is a presidency meeting tonight. She doesn't want to cancel it because there are things that need to be handled before her baby is born, and she has given birth early the last two times, so she wants to be prepared. As much as I wanted to hog tie her to a bed to get some rest, I knew that she is doing what she thinks is best for the children at church. She has a responsibility to them which she takes seriously.<br />
<br />
Women all over the world put themselves last. We are the nurturers. We take care of everyone else first -- to the detriment of our own health sometimes. As worried as I am for my lovely daughter who will soon have three children under age three, I admire her and my other daughters for being nurturers. My daughters are wonderful examples of what women should strive to be -- caring, loving servants to humanity.<br />
<br />
So instead of just marking off one more day on the calendar today, I will celebrate in my heart International Women's Day. I will celebrate it in honor of all those strong women who have gone before me, and those who will come after me. Thank you all for being my example.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-46951088997859892662012-03-03T14:39:00.000-08:002012-03-03T14:39:09.248-08:00The Moving Line of AppropriatenessRecently I listened to a speaker in a church meeting (LDS Stake Conference) talk about the moving line of appropriate versus inappropriate viewing of media. This is something I've been concerned about for some time. It used to be that you could avoid inappropriateness by not viewing "R" rated movies. Now even PG-13 movies often have inappropriate dialog. Television is a plethora of violence, vulgarity, and inappropriate use of the Lord's name. Social media is rampant with vulgarity.<br />
<br />
There is a terrible dilemma for those of us who want to be part of social media. We are encouraged by leaders of the church to be involved in social media. There is a ton of missionary work that is being done via social media, and I've been proud to play a tiny role in that effort the last few years. In the process, we open ourselves up to viewing things we don't want to see, and reading words we don't want to read. It is difficult to know where to draw the line.<br />
<br />
My standard procedure with inappropriateness via social media has been to ignore it the first time (anyone can have a bad day), gently warn the person the second time, and uncircle, unfollow, and/or hide friendship the third time. I'm sad about that. If I were to have followed my own guidelines recently, I would have cut off contact with someone, but for some strange reason, I didn't follow those guidelines. Last week I had a missionary experience with the offender. So it brings the question to my mind again, "Where do I draw the line?"<br />
<br />
I can testify to the fact that reading inappropriate words via social media does have an affect on you. I was sound asleep the other night, and I woke up with a start because in my dream I was yelling at someone and used the most vulgar of words--in my sleep.<br />
<br />
If you thought this blog post was going to give you answers as to where to draw the line, you were mistaken. I don't know the answer. It is something that I'm going to have to pray about earnestly. On-line missionary work is very important, and it is very effective--but at what cost? We have all talked about the moral decay of society and the importance of getting it back on track. How do we do that if we are not willing to roll up our sleeves and get dirty working in the trenches? If we <i>are</i> willing to walk through the sewer, how do we keep ourselves spotless before the Lord?<br />
<br />
I would welcome any suggestions you might have, or any comments, as I study this out in my mind and pray about it.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-73494424271469762552012-03-02T14:59:00.001-08:002012-03-03T07:10:09.716-08:00Time for Healing<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyULH-dDCLjrCaJ42zfEimFthEUTtUVw35htasgRvARAhgFZ7k3zwKlk_Hnw2e98AjW7vIn4Gk7jAUPqXHGFLhF3rociD4U_sjjFeqzSq_cVfmaVH_sk4XA2H7TWYlj2X6_WiYAVLJOJAk/s1600/Colin+Lamb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyULH-dDCLjrCaJ42zfEimFthEUTtUVw35htasgRvARAhgFZ7k3zwKlk_Hnw2e98AjW7vIn4Gk7jAUPqXHGFLhF3rociD4U_sjjFeqzSq_cVfmaVH_sk4XA2H7TWYlj2X6_WiYAVLJOJAk/s1600/Colin+Lamb.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colin E. Lamb </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Picture from here: <a href="http://www.virtualwall.org/dl/LambCE01a.htm">http://www.virtualwall.org/dl/LambCE01a.htm</a><br />
<div><br />
</div><div>This has been a week of healing. The gentleman above was my husband's best friend. He was killed in Vietnam in 1968. When I met my husband, I knew there was a portion of his heart that I couldn't have, and that was reserved for Colin. I have tread lightly on the subject for the entire 35 years of our marriage. Each time we are in Idaho, we visit Colin's grave. Colin's mother died before I met my husband, but several times we went to visit his Dad, and later his Dad and his second wife. We would always have a nice visit, and when we would leave, there would be tears. Colin is now reunited with his parents, and the sweet stepmother he didn't know here on earth.</div><div><br />
</div><div>My son's middle name is Colin, and that had a healing quality for my husband. This week, however, came much bigger healing. Yesterday and today, we did some temple work for Colin and his family. Early next week, we will seal Colin to his parents and brother for time and all eternity.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Two wonderful things happened today with respect to this temple work. First, I had my own little epiphany. I have always felt sad for women who don't have the opportunity to marry in this life, and I frankly become irritated when I hear people say they'll have the opportunity in the next life. As I sat in the temple today doing work for Colin's mother, I thought about the thousands and thousands of young soldiers like Colin who never had the opportunity to marry before their earthly lives were cut short. I had such peace when I realized that there will be someone free for him.</div><div><br />
</div><div>On the drive home from the temple, my husband told me a story. I don't think he's ever told me this before, but it is possible that I have just forgotten. Danny doesn't talk much about Colin because his heart is too tender. He spent a good deal of time blaming himself because he's alive and Colin is dead. Danny was sent to Japan and later home because of a rare eye disease called kerataconis. Colin was sent to Vietnam. Today, though, he spoke about Colin with no tears whatsoever. I was fascinated by what I heard.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Colin was in ROTC at Texas A&M University. Upon graduation he planned to enlist in the military, but before he had a chance, another young man reported Colin to the draft board. The young man was sweet on the girl that Colin was planning to marry, and he wanted to get Colin out of the way. The young woman wanted to marry Colin before he left, but Colin said he wouldn't marry her until he came back. Colin never came back.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Obviously, I never met Colin. Indeed, I was 14 years old when Colin died in 1968, and I didn't marry my husband until the end of 1976, but I feel like I know him. I've never heard one bad thing about him from anyone who knew him. As I sit here today, thinking about a few special women I know who have never been married, I can't help wondering who will someday be blessed with Colin.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I'm excited to do the sealings next week. I'm happy for Colin's family, but also for Danny. After all this time, maybe he can now have a little peace.</div><div><br />
</div>LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-452921426943353710.post-56495113355426175202012-03-01T18:38:00.000-08:002012-03-01T18:38:39.888-08:00Chuck Steaks and Chicken PiecesGrocery shopping was on the agenda today. I had to laugh at myself. I am certainly my father's daughter!<br />
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When I die and see Dad again, the first thing I'm going to do is thank him for showing me how to shop, how to cut up a chicken, and how to buy chuck roast and cut it into chuck steaks. Those three things <i>alone</i> have saved me thousands of dollars over the years. For the life of me, I can't figure out why anyone would pay the butcher to cut up a chicken! It is almost always less expensive--by far--to cut that chicken up yourself. Need to eat healthy? Take the skin off yourself. It's just soooo not hard!<br />
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I unpacked the groceries today, setting the meat on the counter while I put the canned goods in the pantry. When the pantry items were put away, I turned to the meat. In 10 minutes--yes, only 10 minutes--I split a 3-pound package of ground beef into three 1-pound zip lock packages (it was less expensive to buy the larger package), cut up a chicken putting several pieces in zip lock bags (it's just the two of us now, and we can't eat a whole chicken in one sitting), and split a chuck roast into two chuck steaks. Each zip lock bag was then labeled, dated, and frozen. TEN MINUTES! Why on earth would I pay the butcher to do that for me?? It's such a simple thing.<br />
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Then there is the trust exercise. Cutting the chuck roast into chuck steaks is easier with two people--and it builds trust. From the time my children could reach the cutting board, they learned to press their little hands flat and tight against the chuck roast that was standing vertical instead of horizontal between their hands. As I gently cut the roast down the middle between their hands, they learned that Mom indeed could be trusted. I did it for my Dad when I was a kid, and I learned to trust him too. Even my husband trusts me--well, sort of. No he does. Really!<br />
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The second thing I'm going to ask Dad in heaven: What in the heck did you put in the meat spread to make it taste so good? Dad would take all the little pieces of leftover meat hanging out in the refrigerator, put it through the meat grinder, add "stuff" to it, spread it between two pieces of bread, and it was <i>to die for</i>! Hey, siblings, if Dad ever showed you what he put in that meat, cough up the recipe NOW! I've tried and tried, and I can't make it taste like Dad's meat spread.LaurieBeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05775330125241169338noreply@blogger.com4