Matriarchal Musings

Now Is the Winter of My Discontent

2010-04-06T07:22:00.001-07:00

I know. The calendar says it's spring. But the five inches of snow in my yard say otherwise.

As the Primary song goes, "Spring has brought me such a nice(?) surprise!" But oh, how I long for a real surprise. Spring when it's supposed to be spring.

I recognize that I live in Idaho and that it's a bit foolish to expect any different. But seriously. I also recognize that the groundhog saw his shadow and predicted six more weeks of winter. But that was over eight weeks ago!

Ah, yes. 'Tis truly the winter of my discontent. But on the upside, I now have a very legitimate reason to put off my "spring" cleaning...

Projects: Past, Present, and Future

2010-01-17T10:27:00.000-08:00

When my children were little, the months of January and February dragged endlessly. Time seemed to come to a standstill. In an effort to ward off the winter blues and occasional bouts of cabin fever, I began to plan projects for those cold winter months. With a concrete goal, my life felt more purposeful and I soon began looking forward to each new year.

Now that I'm older however, time can't slow down enough. The world keeps spinning faster and faster (or is that just my mind?). Yet I continue to plan, and project (pronounced as a noun, but used as a verb - grammatically incorrect, I know) and occasionally take a deep breath to prevent myself from hyperventilating. And the projects continue to pile up around me.

Why, pray tell, do I feel compelled to clean out every drawer and cupboard and dust every nook and cranny during the first week of January? Is there some unwritten law or an unspoken rule that would be grossly violated if February, or even March, arrives and my kitchen utensils are not evenly aligned in an east-west direction or if a few extra crumbs reside rent-free in my pantry for another week or two? This year, after having only completed one deep-cleaning chore by the end of the first week, I attained a heightened level of maturity when I decided to bump those chores to the bottom of my project list. They will get done - eventually.

But for now, I am anxiously engaged in a better cause (or two) - with projects that will enrich my life and the lives of others. More later...

Happy Anniversary!!!

2010-01-03T07:00:00.000-08:00

Happy 29th Anniversary to the most wonderful man in the world!

"To infinity and beyond!"
Love, Callie

Jigsaw Closure

2010-01-02T09:40:00.000-08:00

During the holidays a few years ago, we experienced puzzlemania. During the course of a week, we assembled three 1000 piece jigsaw puzzles. We set up a table within sight of the television and within close reach of snacks and spent hours maneuvering colorful cardboard pieces into their proper location. And we marveled at the finished product.

This year, I attempted to reenact a small portion of that puzzle parade. But instead of languishing at home the day after Christmas, we headed up to Island Park to enjoy a cozified break from our normal routine. And so I packed a puzzle.

We set up a folding table, and I poured out the puzzle pieces. Elliott found great fun in helping me sort out the edge pieces - for a while anyway. I constructed the frame. And waited for others to join in the fun. But they did not. Not to be deterred, I began filling in a small corner of the puzzle hoping to entice others to help me. But they did not. And so I continued my solitary pasttime finding little snippets of joy each time I placed a piece in the right spot. And I assured everyone that my goal was not to complete the puzzle but to enjoy the journey. And so I did -for three days - until it was time to return home. And my puzzle was uncompleted.

And I was okay with that - for about a day - until I realized that the New Year's holiday provided yet another opportunity to entice my loved ones into helping me experience jigsaw nirvana. And so I brought out the same puzzle and began to reconstruct the assembly. I quickly restored the puzzle to its former state of imcompleteness and, again, waited for others to join in. But they did not. And I was almost relieved, because by this time I was on a mission - a mission to complete a task once started - a mission of closure.

And I succeeded. The puzzle is complete. The New Year has arrived. And all is right with the world.

Grandchildren, Christmas Lights, and an English Tea Shop

2009-12-20T19:03:00.000-08:00

Saturday we made a quick day trip to Salt Lake for an evening Clark family Christmas party. But we participated in a lot more than that. For the Salt Lake valley is also home to our grandchildren. And so, with assorted Christmas gifts and packages in hand, we left home early enough to spend the afternoon with the six cutest little children in the entire world.

Our first stop was in South Jordan to watch a little UNC basketball with Justin, lunch on some delicious vegetable/cheese soup made by Ashley, wrestle with Taylor and Braxton, and cuddle with Avri and Macall. Two hours later, we ventured north to Kaysville to have a wild west shoot out with Elliott, listen to Quinn quote from "A Christmas Story," nosh on a late afternoon McDonald's snack with Chris, and munch on yummy gingerbread cookies with Kim.

Jalayne joined us just in time for part two of the day's festivities - a trip to Temple Square to see the lights. We all congregated a block away from the church office building, and - bundled in coats, hats, scarves, and gloves, and with the babies sleeping snugly in their stroller - our merry little band began a very brisk and chilly walk to see the dazzling display of color. The lights, the nativities, and the welcoming warmth of the visitor's center were enjoyed by all. Quinn seemed to be most concerned about keeping "papa" within sight. At one point, Elliott stopped short and exclaimed, "Is there anybody who will help me get warm?", Braxton loved all the animals from the nativities - especially the sheep, Taylor stayed cozy the entire time in the loving arms of Auntie Jay, and of course, the baby girls slept.

Having sated our desire for sparkling Christmas displays, we climbed back into our assortment of vehicles and drove to a quaint little English tea shop for the Christmas party. We gathered with my parents, my siblings, their children and grandchildren at Elizabeth's Bakery and Tea Shop. Under the watchful eye of Her Majesty the Queen in portraiture, we dined on sausage rolls, scones, and chocolate shortbread. And though we did not partake of any tea, we did enjoy a beautiful display of assorted teapots and cups.

After exchanging Christmas gifts and sharing wishes for a Merry Christmas, we said our goodbyes and began a late evening journey homeward. It was a good day - a day of grandkids, holiday displays, and family. A perfect way to celebrate Christmas!

A Reluctant Companion

2009-12-11T13:52:00.000-08:00

I really don't like dogs.

Maybe I should rephrase that. I am not a pet person. While I have respect for all creatures in the animal kingdom, I've never yearned to be a pet owner. Growing up, we had various and sundry goldfish, turtles, and hamsters. We even had a couple of dogs. They were good dogs, I suppose. I've just never really been enamored with "man's best friend." And so, for the first nineteen years of my married life we lived a dog-free existence.

And then we moved back to Idaho.

When the kids were very small, it was easy to say 'no' to a dog. And in California, we had a very small yard (picture a postage stamp) and a home that was filled to overflowing with people. But as we prepared to uproot the kids once again, Dan promised them that, once settled in our new home, we would get a dog.

A few months after we moved to Idaho and the holidays were upon us, Dan and I began discussing the promise he had made to the children. I actually began warming up to the idea of getting them a puppy for Christmas. We combed the classifieds and found an ad for purebred yellow lab puppies. We called for more information, discovered that the owner lived just a few blocks away, and set up an appointment to see the puppies. Is it okay to admit that my cold, hard heart melted when I saw those little puppies? Well, it did! Being the first to answer the ad, Dan and I had first pick of the litter. Not wanting to have all the fun, we shared our secret with then 17-year-old Justin, and took him with us to choose a puppy.

Christmas morning arrived. Gifts were opened, wrapping paper was tossed aside, and the children began reveling in their treasure. And then we told them we had a quick errand to run. Huh? On Christmas morning? A few minutes later, we returned with truly the cutest yellow lab puppy ever born. The kids were astounded, breathless, and ecstatic. And we watched that cute little puppy quiver with fright and cower under the sofa as we tossed around ideas for a name. We tried various combinations of the kids' names forward and backward and eventually settled on Mikki (mik is kim backwards). We took turns holding and petting her and even laughed when she piddled on the carpet (what were we thinking?). And then we returned her to her mother until early January when she was ready to be weaned.

And so for ten years now, I have been a dog owner. I have watched Mikki grow from an innocent, tiny little puppy to a mischievous, rambunctious big puppy and finally to a mature, mellow dog. I have had to repair a hole in the carpet, a hole in the wall, and a torn windowsill. (I hadn't realized that wood could be torn until that particular incident.) I have potty trained her, taken her to the vet, and cleaned up after her when she was sick. I let her out to potty, chase her down when she escapes from the yard, and sweep and vacuum away her stray hair every day. Though Dan is her master, and the kids were her playtime companions, I have been her caregiver.

And now the house is mostly empty. And with quiet all around, she looks to me as her constant companion and friend. And it's kind of cute. Every morning when I roll out of bed (did I fail to mention that she sleeps in my bedroom? - though never on my bed!) she stands up and waits patiently for me to say my prayers and use the bathroom. As I cross the bedroom and head for the door, her tail begins to wag and she walks back and forth as if ushering me onward. When I am almost to the door, she leads me down the hall and into the kitchen. She kind of acts like a sheep dog. (Does that mean I'm a sheep?) She's rather protective and almost nurturing.

A week or so ago, she began joining me in the basement while I exercise. About twenty minutes into my morning walk she races down the stairs and into the family room. She paces around the treadmill for a while as if trying to figure out what I'm doing, then settles onto the carpet to wait until I finish. And then together we walk back up the stairs.

I'm not sure how to define our relationship. Is she simply a dog? Or a friend? If I'm going to be honest, I'll have to admit - albeit reluctantly - that she is, indeed, a loyal companion.

A Week of Thanksgiving

2009-11-30T14:36:00.000-08:00

After a week away from home, it was good to sit down for dinner with Dan and Julie once again. On Sunday, November 22nd I was grateful for the simple joy of a family meal. Dinnertime has always been a priority in our home and I'm thankful for the time we have to share our thoughts, news, and insights with each other. Oh yeah, and food, too!

On Monday the 23rd, I was especially grateful for my Julie Bear. I know I already mentioned gratitude for my children in a birthday post. But it was so nice to be home with her. As the "only child," she is a wonderful companion and friend. And she was a real trooper when I had to be gone for so long. Cheers to you, Jules!

I began putting up Christmas decorations on Monday and finished up on Tuesday, the 24th. Yes, I know. It wasn't even Thanksgiving yet. But I always seem to create an unnecessary amount of stress for myself trying to get the halls sufficiently decked the day after Thanksgiving. This year I decided to take a proactive approach and allow myself a little more time. No stress - a blessing to be sure.

The day before Thanksgiving is pie day. And I do love pie. The blessings on this particular day consisted of one blueberry, one apple, and three pumpkin pies.

Thursday I was thankful for Thanksgiving, of course! Food, family, and fun. An extra dollop of gratitude is extended to Kim for hosting this year's feast.

Can you be thankful for something you don't have? On "black" Friday, November 27th, I was grateful that I was not born with the shopping gene. I have never had the desire to join the manic throngs of people in search of holiday treasure at five o'clock in the morning. Instead, I ventured out later in the day with Ashley and Kim for an unhurried, stress free, break from the little kiddies.

The morning after we returned from the Salt Lake Valley, I went into the garage to put something in the car. As I walked back through the garage, I discovered a dead mouse just a few feet from the door to the house! Eek! Apparently it was his time to go, and I was mighty grateful that said mouse met his demise outside the confines of my kitchen.

My ward calling requires me to attend additional meetings each Sunday. Those meetings begin at 7:30 am. But yesterday, November 29th, being the 5th Sunday of the month, the stake requested my attendance at a 7am meeting. Ugh! Early mornings are not my favorite, but on this particular occasion I was rewarded by being able to sit next to Dan throughout the meeting. That's a rarity. And one of those little things for which I was grateful.

I have been putting off this post while waiting for a good news phone call from Ashley. It finally arrived! Like all newborns, Avri and Macall received a PKU test right after birth. With both girls, the results came back positive for an amino acid deficiency which, though not life threatening, would certainly be life altering. After receiving assurance from Kim, our in house dietician, and after doing much research online, we learned that the test is often a false positive especially in preemies. That gave us lots of hope. Last week they were tested again, and today the results were normal!!! Such a tremendous blessing!

But as I think back over the past two weeks, I am also grateful for children with great faith. Justin and Ashley were prepared to accept whatever challenges were given to them. They were just so grateful to have the girls. And Kim was quick to assure them both that she would take the necessary classes to become specialized as a metabolic dietician so that she could personally provide for Avri and Macall's dietary needs. To see such faith and unity in my children is a blessing beyond measure.

It's been a good month, for a thankful heart truly is a happy heart!

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

2009-11-21T12:50:00.000-08:00

I've been in Utah this past week helping Ashley with the kids. So, much of what I have to be thankful for this week will undoubtedly be influenced by my change of location and responsibility.

On Saturday, November 14th, I managed to sqeeze in a Christmas project before packing my bags for Justin and Ashley's. Elliott has expressed interest in a super-hero cape, and so I decided to make him one. And I quickly decided that if Iwas going to make one, I should probably make four. Can you just imagine how cute those four little grandsons of mine will be as they fly around the planet saving us mere mortals from danger? My gratitude on this particular day was for the ability to sew.

I conducted Relief Society on Sunday the 15th. The lesson was on the martydom of the prophet Joseph Smith. It was a beautifully presented lesson with many wonderful comments. As I closed the meeting, I was able to bear testimony of Joseph Smith and his role as prophet of the Restoration. I am grateful for that testimony and for my membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Sunday evening, I commenced my journey southward to the Justin and Ashley Hatch abode. I found all well there as I arrived and began a week's worth of bonding with my new granddaughters.

On Monday morning, as I was contemplating my chosen "blessing" for that particular day, I reflected on the number of times I have been able to stay with my married children to help out after the birth of a baby or during recovery from surgery. I have always been welcomed with open arms by both of my "in-law" children, Ashley and Chris. On one of the first such visits, as I rang the doorbell and Chris answered the door, I laughed at the stereotypical horror I must have presented. Mother-in-law. At the door. With a suitcase. But Ashley and Chris do much more than tolerate me. They have allowed me to be a part of their families, and in turn, have brought great joy to me and to the entire family. I express my love and appreciation to them for enhancing my life.

My gratitude on Tuesday, November 17th was for something simple. Sleep!!! While Ashley took care of Macall's needs during the night, I tended to Avri, and she slept for four hours! A week before, that would have meant very little to me. But after a few nights of sleep deprivation, a four hour stretch was heavenly indeed.

Braxton and Taylor were so much fun to play with during the week. I tried to take them on one outing a day to get them out of the house and give Ashley a bit of a break. On Wednesday, the 18th, we met up with Kim, Elliott, and Quinn and drove to the Treehouse Museum in Ogden. It is an amazing children's museum with an almost limitless number of activities and opportunities for little boys who have an almost limitless amount of energy.

And that's just a sampling of all the activities that were offered. I was grateful on that day for an organization that provides an environment which turns learning into fun, and transforms entertainment into knowledge.

All play and no work makes Jack a slovenly boy. And so, on Thursday, the 19th, armed with fortitude in both mind and body, I loaded the boys into the car for a grocery shopping trip to Walmart. (Yes, Walmart - again! How can a month filled with gratitude contain multiple trips to Walmart? It boggles the mind!) The boys were amazing, and I only had to break up two wrestling bouts. We managed to collect everything on the list and wend our way to the check stand, and then I began to get a little concerned. What would I do, while waiting for our enormous load of goods to be scanned, if Taylor and Braxton decided to make a run for it? Instead, they wanted to play with the carousel that holds all the shopping bags. I was waiting for the clerk to insist that the boys keep their hands to themselves. Instead, he laughed and joked with them and was as friendly as can be. The boys giggled with delight each time he turned the carousel to fill another bag. It was a simple thing. And yet, this random act of kindness was certainly worthy of my gratitude.

Friday, November 20th, I said my goodbyes before returning to Idaho Falls. Leaving this little family was harder than I thought it would be.

And as I began my homeward trek, I reflected on all that had been accomplished. And I was most grateful for the energy I had been blessed with throughout the week - a strength and stamina that are truly beyond my normal abilities.

It was a wonderful week, filled once again with myriads of blessings. And now I am home again, home again, jiggity jig. Just one more thing to be grateful for.

Blessings

2009-11-13T08:26:00.000-08:00

As the month of November progresses, I shall continue to make an accounting of some of the many things for which I am thankful.

I received a phone call from Kim on Monday, November 9th to tell me that Nabisco has unveiled a limited edition of Mint Fudge Oreos. They are not endowed with the regal moniker of Mystic Mints, but they are indeed the same confectionary delight whose demise I mourned just two months ago. I am almost (not really) ashamed to admit how quickly I drove to Walmart - yes, Walmart of all places! - to purchase six boxes of minty, chocolatey goodness. I am mighty tempted to buy a couple of cases with which to adorn the shelves of my storage room. But for now, I am thankful I can once again savor the delectable combination of fudge, mint, and chocolate cookie.

Kim's house became my hotel on Monday and Tuesday nights while I helped Ashley with the boys and Avri during the day. (Macall was still in the hospital). As always, she was very hospitable, although the temperature of her home does not agree with my feet. And for this reason, my gratitude on Tuesday, November 10th is for wool socks. And not just any wool socks. These are lambswool and possum fur socks from New Zealand. So my gratitude extends to Jalayne for recognizing the thermostatic deficiences in my extremities and providing me with the ability to keep my little tootsies warm and cozy.

I was thankful for little boys on November 11th. On Wednesday afternoon, I trekked across the Salt Lake valley with Taylor and Braxton so they could play with cousins, Elliott and Quinn. And oh, what fun they had! They ran, and played, and squealed with delight. But the highlight came when all the toys were put away and we climbed up on the couch to watch a movie together. All four boys clamored for my lap, and there we sat, as snuggly as can be. One grandma + four little grandsons = great joy. A magical equation!

Knowledge is power. And I was blessed with that reminder on Thursday, November 12th. Knowledge allows us to be prepared, to plan for the future, and to act on what we know rather than react to unexpected changes. I am grateful to be surrounded with unlimited resources of information and wisdom.

And today, as I return from the hair salon, I am thankful for my natural hair color. This is not a denial of gray hair, for that would be misleading and downright dishonest. But thanks to a dedicated stylist and the cosmetology industry, neither you nor I will ever have to know how much gray hair adorns this aging head. And on Friday, the 13th, having gray hair at my "young" age would be bad luck indeed.

So Much To Be Thankful For

2009-11-08T18:28:00.000-08:00

And the blessings continue.

On Friday, November 6th, just before 9am, my first two granddaughters entered the world. Avri was born first. She weighed 6 lbs. 4 ozs. and was 19 1/2 inches long.

Avri Jean Hatch

Two minutes later, Macall was delivered. She is a tiny babe at 5 lbs. 6 ozs. and only 18 1/2 inches long.

Macall Jo Hatch

Dan and I drove to Salt Lake on Friday morning to introduce ourselves and get acquainted with these two darling baby girls. Ashley's doing well, and so are the babies. And I am thankful.

I began updating Julie's scrapbook on Saturday, the 7th, and realized how grateful I am for technology. With the ability to upload, download, copy, store, and print pictures, I have limitless options and can access anything I need with the click of a mouse. Pictures of Avri and Macall were taken with camera phones and immediately emailed to family members around the world. Long gone are the days of buying film, waiting for it to be developed, and wondering if any of the pictures I took actually turned out.

Today, November 8th, I took some time to reflect on the blessed outcome in Dan's health after a two-week-long roller-coaster ride. After a few months of pain and discomfort, an ailing sinus was diagnosed as having a massive infection which led him to the hospital for a CT scan. Instead of infection, the scan showed a solid mass - which was tentatively identified as an ameloblastoma, or tumor of the jaw. Although a benign tumor, it is very aggressive and was assumed to have compromised the soft tissue in and around Dan's jaw. We were told to expect surgery in Portland where specialists would remove the tumor and could begin reconstruction on the damaged area of his jaw. In the meantime, a biopsy was scheduled. In the week preceeding the biopsy, Dan and I both felt relatively calm and optimistic. (Fortunately, we didn't get ahead of ourselves and do any online research on ameloblastomas!) During the biopsy, the surgeon found absolutely no signs of a tumor! His sinus was indeed filled with infection - an infection that had been brewing in the 30 plus years since he had a cyst removed from his sinus while on a mission in Brazil. The solution was a relatively easy one - a root canal on a tooth that was damaged during the surgery over three decades ago. Today, that root canal procedure is on the mend, the infection is clearing out, and Dan feels better than he has in years. Is it too cliche to say "when you've got your health, you've got everything?" I don't think so!

Come Ye Thankful People, Come

2009-11-05T17:04:00.000-08:00

I love that hymn! And I enjoy "Prayer of Thanksgiving" and "For the Beauty of the Earth" as well. They are songs of humility and gratitude. And during this autumn season, they make me feel warm, cozy, safe, and blessed.

And so, in the spirit thanksgiving, I will focus my November posts on those things that I am grateful for. I have already paid tribute to my family - for which I am eternally grateful. And I am so blessed for my health, for the gospel, and for my testimony. The next few blogs, however, will address many of those everyday things that I consider to be blessings in my life. Some may seem whimsical. Some will be serious. But they are all things I for which I am very thankful.

On November 1st, I was very thankful for the change from daylight savings time to standard time. This has nothing to do with the fact that it's light earlier in the morning and dark earlier in the evening. It's all about the fact that I got an extra hour of sleep on Saturday night. (When I said whimsical, I meant it.) The older I become, the more I seem to crave sleep.

As November 2nd dawned, I was grateful for a hot shower. To be honest, there was nothing special about my shower on Monday morning. But the fact that I can step into a small tile-covered enclosure, turn a knob, and have hot, steamy water spray forth is - to me - a blessing. In a hot shower I can relax, clear my head, and come away feeling refreshed.

My gratitude on November 3rd was focused on a hair care appliance - the Conair 2-in-1 Hot Air Brush.

This dazzling little gadget allows me to dry and style my hair with ease and convenience - an ease that I had taken for granted until said appliance failed to operate without warning. I was then forced to style my hair the old-fashioned way. The problem with that? I seem to suffer from a severe lack of hand to hair coordination. With a curling brush in one hand and a hair dryer in the other - well, let's just say my inefficiency was not a pretty sight. I'm grateful that a short jaunt to Walgreen's was all it took to restore peace and sanity to my day.

On Wednesday, November 4th, we received a letter from Clark announcing his first baptism! That was truly an answer to prayer. He and his companion had been teaching Pietro for almost two months. Obstacles were overcome and miracles took place. A wonderful blessing indeed!

And today, the 5th of November, I express gratitude for my mother-in-law, Carol Hatch. Though she has been gone for over 22 years, I still feel her influence in my life. With great patience and encouragement, she taught me how to bake bread, make pies, and can peaches. She also shared with me her love of quilting and, while making treasured quilts for my children, taught me how to select fabrics, combine colors, and piece together beautiful patchwork designs. Her legacy has become a blessing to my own grandchildren as I have been able to make quilts for each of them.

Yesterday, I completed these baby quilts for Avri and Macall Hatch who will be born tomorrow morning.

Ah yes, there's so much to be thankful for!

Two, Dew, and Boo!

2009-11-04T17:24:00.000-08:00

Yes my friends, it's been over TWO weeks since I last posted. I've been remiss, and I am ashamed. It's not for lack of things to write about, but more a creative disconnect between brain and keyboard. I shall attempt to make amends for my transgression.

I begin with the story of the DEW. I'm not speaking of the delicate drops of moisture that form on tender blades of grass in the wee hours of morning. Rather, I refer to a flourescent, carbonated beverage which happens to be the favored brew of a certain son-in-law. A week or so before his 28th birthday, Chris shared a recipe on Facebook for Mountain Dew Cupcakes. Yes, you read that right. Cupcakes! Not wanting to disappoint the rapidly-aging father of my grandchildren, I decided to surprise him with said cupcakes. And what a marvel they were!

Although the main liquid ingredient was, indeed, Mountain Dew, these charmingly neon confections were flavored with fresh lemon and lime which produced a light and refreshing zing of citrus. The picture below was pathetically posed and fails to capture Chris' pure delight.

In the days leading up to his birthday, Chris unashamedly made a plea on Facebook for a candy bar poster. (I should really quit reading his status updates.) Although I recognized it as a blatant attempt for attention :-) I couldn't resist the opportunity to strengthen my position as his favorite mother-in-law.

Following the birthday festivities, we began our preparations for All Hallow's Eve - the BOO! And, of course, we began with the ritual pumpkin carving.

Elliott insisted on a "skeleton jack-o-lantern that will be so cool."

Cheesy Quinn with his jolly jack-o-lantern

Elliott with his Jolly Roger

Trick...

...or treat!

For the past few years, Dan has looked forward to Halloween with great anticipation. The reason? He now gives away full-size candybars and loves to see the surprise on the faces of the little kiddies when they are given their unexpectedly large treat.

The hilarious highlight of the holiday came about midway through the evening. Two young children came to the door, received their treat, and offered a polite "thank you" before returning to their parents who were waiting at the bottom of the porch. Immediately, the doorbell rang again. And who was waiting on the other side of the door? The mother of those two young children. She held out some sort of a purse and said, "Trick or Treat" with a flirtatious little grin. Dan told her, "No, they're just for the kids." To which she replied, "You're so mean." Seriously lady? You can't drive on over to the Maverik and buy yourself a candybar?

All in all it was a dewy, booey, beautiful Halloween!

A Dramatic Reaction

2009-10-17T12:31:00.000-07:00

I love the transformation that takes place as summer gives way to fall. I am captivated by the explosion of color as trees make their preparations for wintry weather. And I take great delight in hearing the crunch of fallen leaves as I wander along the sidewalk. This year, however, the extreme changes in temperature caused much confusion among the deciduous trees in my little corner of the world.

On a Monday, nearly three weeks ago, the temperature was 82 degrees. The next day, the high temperature was in the 30s. The trees, though still green and vibrant looking, responded as if in sudden panic by dropping all of their leaves at once. Suddenly, great piles of green leaves covered the walks and gutters. For a small moment, I mourned the loss of autumn. But on further investigation, I discovered that not all of the trees reacted the same way.

Many trees took a more conservative approach to the changing weather and behaved in a manner more appropriate for the season. They allowed the cooler temperatures to create a gradual change from within until bright red, orange, and gold burst forth in a breathtaking display.

I found myself reflecting on this contrast after reading both a news article, which preceeded a speech made by Elder Dallin H. Oaks at BYU-Idaho on Tuesday, October 13th www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&sid=8297467, and the speech itself http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/news-releases-stories/religious-freedom.

The news article included excerpts from the text that, taken alone, could be interpreted as divisive and inflammatory. I must admit that after reading the story, I was in a panic. I felt as if the First Amendment was in imminent danger, and that by the end of the decade I would be helping to organize clandestine worship services in my home because the atheistic majority would prevent public gatherings for religious purposes.

And there were those in the media http://www.ldsmag.com/ideas/091016olbermann.html who took issue with Elder Oaks' comments about civil rights. The backlash to the press release was much like the green leaves that reacted to a perceived threat and responded with a dramatic and disappointing display.

My response to the speech itself was completely different. It was a beautifully written address which informed, encouraged, and motivated. As a citizen of the United States, Elder Oaks' remarks motivated me to always "speak with love," to have the courage to speak out and "not be deterred or coerced into silence by intimidation," to "insist on our freedom to preach the doctrines of our faith, to "be wise in [my] political participation," and to continue to ascribe to the provision "that no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification" for public office.

It was a beautiful speech. And when studied and analyized in its entirety, and in a manner more appropriate than through the biased eyes of media sound bites, it can promote gradual changes in each of us that will be both vibrant and breathtaking.

Willpower

2009-10-16T11:49:00.000-07:00

Today was pizza day.

Once or twice a month, Julie and a dozen or so friends descend upon my kitchen to partake of Little Caesar's Hot-n-Ready pizzas. I picked up a stack of pizzas just before noon, and while driving home, I found the aroma to be uncommonly enticing. I was sorely tempted to succumb to the savory goodness of just once slice of pepperoni pie, but I couldn't quite justify the heavy price of those fat laden calories. What to do?

I deposited the pizzas in a warm oven and left the room. Yes, I fled!

However, I must confess that, in the far reaches of my mind, I was hoping to indulge in any left over pizza. It just wouldn't do to let good pizza go to waste.

And so I busied myself with chores while a hoard of hungry teenagers began devouring the very food that I was craving. Within minutes all four pizza boxes lay empty, the garbage can was filled with dirty paper plates, and grateful boys and girls were quickly exiting the house for their return to school. I was alone with nary a crumb. And I felt victorious! For in reality, I have yet to purchase pizza for this voracious crowd and find even a mere morsel remaining.

I'm quite certain that I simply tricked myself into believing there would be an extra slice for me. But for today at least, I think I'll chalk it up to willpower.

A "Big Apple" a Day Keeps the Doctor Away

2009-10-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

I suppose it would be inaccurate to claim that a trip to New York City can prevent physical ailments. However, I dare say that a short jaunt to the Big Apple provides a great deal of mental, emotional, and yes, even spiritual rejuvenation. Ah, the lights, the sounds, the people...

Lest you become overly bored with a long drawn out travelogue, I shall attempt to regale you with a few brief highlights.

Upon settling into our midtown hotel, we strolled around Times Square...

...and ventured into the M&M store. If you can't quite decipher the words on the tin, it reads: "Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Chocolate." Patriotic don't you think? My love of chocolate is surpassed only by my love of country (and family, and church, etc. etc.)

Dan was thrilled to get a peek at the set for "Fast Money." And was even more excited to...

...witness a taping of the show the following day. If you look really closely, you can see his favorite financial gurus behind the glass.

And though the world worships costly apparel as true religion...

...we found spiritual refuge in the Manhattan LDS Temple. Julie was able to participate in temple baptisms (after we made it past the bouncer - uh, er, security guard in the background). Under Julie's direction, we than began our exploration of Manhattan.

Bryant Park is a beautiful setting for a game of chess.

For those who prefer less of a mental challenge, they now have ping pong tables in the park.

Simply strolling through the park is also an option.

To the east of Bryant Park sits the New York City library, a rather impressive edifice indeed.

Oh, the magical hustle and bustle of Grand Central Station. It always makes me want to hop a train for destinations unknown.

From Grand Central Station, we wended our way northward for a late lunch reservation at Serendipity3 - and then, on to Central Park...

...for a view of the Wollman Ice Rink and the ever impressive Manhattan skyline.
That night we attended a performance of Mary Poppins. It was a wonderful show. In fact, I would go so far as to declare it, "practically perfect in every way."

The next morning we took the subway to the Financial District with a quick stop at Battery Park where I took a picture of Julie taking a picture of the Statue of Liberty. (And suddenly I had a craving for M&Ms.)

From Battery Park, we ventured to Ground Zero - still under construction - still nothing built - and then to Trinity Church...

...which sits at the intersection of Wall St. and Broadway.

And so, of course, our next stop was the New York Stock Exchange.

I was intrigued with this view of a religious monument being squeezed out by a hotbed of money and greed. From Wall Street...

...a subway ride north led us to the Modern Museum of Art. Julie was beyond excited to see Van Gogh's "Starry Night" in real life. While posing for this picture, she got so close to the painting that security yelled at her to "step away, step away!"

Our second and last evening in New York included dinner at Angus McIndoe - a very busy, very noisy, and very deliciously wonderful New York experience, and then a breathtaking Broadway presentation of "The Lion King."

'Twas a wonderful trip indeed - enough to make Julie kick up her heels with joy!

Ah yes, there's nothing quite like the Big Apple!

A Gratuitous Response

2009-10-07T13:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I received the following response from American Airlines. (Yes, I sent them a copy of my post. What's the point in complaining if you're not going to do something proactive?)

Dear Mrs. Hatch:
Thanks for taking the time to send us your ideas. It's always very helpful for us to see our product through our customers' eyes. We try to be responsive and look for trends based on your reactions to different areas of service. As we look to make changes, you can be sure we'll keep your (thoughts/concerns) in mind. Thanks for giving us the benefit of your invaluable observations.
Sincerely,
Barbara McKayCustomer RelationsAmerican Airlines

The response I received was most definitely a form letter and incredibly gratuitous. While American Airlines tries "to be responsive," (whatever that means), they do claim to "look for trends based on [my] reactions," etc. etc. and blah blah blah. They will most assuredly not keep MY (thoughts/concerns) in mind. But they might listen if all of you, and your friends, and your friends of friends (well, you get the idea) write a similar letter to the airline. Because that would create that trend that they claim to be looking for.

So for those of you who are so inclined, take five minutes to send off a quick note to American Airlines by logging onto aa.com. Click on "Email AA Customer Relations;" Nature of email: Suggestion/Comment; Email Subject: Airline Policy and Procedures; enter your contact information, and be sure to click "yes" for an emailed response to your message.

I think it would be great fun to bombard the airline with similar comments. Isn't what what they really want? Did they not thank me for giving them "the benefit of my invaluable observations"? And won't they be overwhelmed with joy when they hear from all of you!

Will You Be Checking a Bag Today?

2009-10-06T11:34:00.000-07:00

Dear Airline,
I just returned from a cross-country trip and paid $15 each way to check my bag. Please keep in mind, I have no particular issue with the bag fee. I understand that the downturn in the economy has forced you to find creative ways to bolster your profits. But my petition is this - for a fee of $15 and the hassle of waiting in the baggage claim area to pick up my luggage (not to mention the worry that my bag somehow ended up at a destination different than my own) I assert that I should receive a modest travel benefit.

My request is simple and will cost you nothing. I propose that all passengers who pay the extra fee to check a bag be allowed to deplane first. And here's why.

I am able to board the plane, find my assigned seat, and quickly stash my carry on item under the seat in front of me without:
*causing the people behind me to wait - and wait - and wait - while I search for an unoccupied bin and stuff my oversized bag into it.
*creating headaches for the flight attendants who must eventually tell me my item won't fit into the bin but can be stored in the closet.
* forcing a departure delay while my bag (which won't fit into a bin or closet) is transferred to the luggage hold of the plane.

When the plane arrives at the gate, in spite of my efficiency, I am forced to wait for passenger after passenger in front of me to, sluggishly and inconsiderately of others, lug his suitcase down from the storage bin before he begins his unhurried departure from the plane. Meanwhile, I could have deplaned, visited the restroom, and eaten a small meal.

It's not much to ask. And for $15, I maintain that I should be rewarded for my efficiency.

And dear airline, if you would be so considerate as to grant my humble request, I will be loyal to you forever.

Sincerely,
Callie Hatch

Start Spreading the News...

2009-09-30T11:53:00.000-07:00

"Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today (well, actually, tomorrow),
I want to be a part of it - New York, New York.
These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray
Right through the very heart of it - New York, New York.

I wanna wake up in a city that doesn't sleep..."

Since the rest of the lyrics don't apply, I'll stop there. (Annoying, huh? You'll just have to hum the rest.) But, yes, I'm leaving for New York tomorrow morning with Dan and Julie. I can't wait! I've been to New York in the spring and summer but never in the fall, so hopefully, Central Park will look fabulous. We're going to see a couple of Broadway shows and roam around the city. I hope to give you a grand report upon my return.

We are Family

2009-09-27T19:21:00.000-07:00

I spent this past weekend at our cabin in Island Park with some of the most wonderful people in the world for our first ever (girls only!) Cousin Reunion.

Back Row: Dianne McCurdy, Cindy Myers, Rita Coombs, Carla Hunter, Karen Hill

Middle: Jean Wood, Kerry Gallup

Front: Me, Mary Jo Marshall, Nancy Taylor, Chris Newby

My sister, Karen, planned and organized the event. We enjoyed great food, lots of conversation, and a little bit of sleep. It was great to reminisce and to catch up on each other's lives. On Saturday afternoon, we went to Uncle Stephen's cabin for lunch. Kaye and Sherri joined us for a few hours.

On the deck at Stephen's cabin

Back Row: Kerry, Chris, Nancy, Dianne, Cindy, Carla

Front: Rita, Kaye Clark, me, Sherri Olsen, Mary Jo

It was such a success, we plan to get together again next year, and hopefully, can entice a few more cousins to come. And if Ted continues to beg, we may soften our hearts and let the guys join us. ;-)

To Read or Not to Read, That is the Question

2009-09-25T12:00:00.000-07:00

This week I returned to school to resume my duties as a literacy tutor. And it's good to be back! I love to read, and I enjoy helping others discover the pleasure of a good book - from Mercer Mayer and Maurice Sendak to Eric Carle and Leo Leonni. But for some, due to lack of desire or ability, to read or not to read is a serious question.

When we moved to Idaho Falls in 1999, I was in search of a meaningful way to volunteer in the school district. Although happy to help out in Clark's and Julie's classrooms, I was looking for an opportunity to really make a difference. At Back-to-School night, among all the volunteer forms that were distributed, I received a letter from the Community Literacy Council outlining their program for training and providing tutors for the elementary schools. I was intrigued and set the paper aside thinking that, one day, I would call for more information.

The paper sat on the kitchen counter for a couple of weeks. Everytime I saw it, I was reminded that I needed to make the call. But I didn't - until the following week when the local paper had a half-page article about the CLC with a plea for volunteers. I don't know how many people in town noticed the story, but I felt like it was written just for me. I immediately called and signed up for the seven-hour training session. By late fall I was ready to begin tutoring the requisite two hours a week.

I called the literacy coordinator for my childrens' elementary school and was quickly given the assignment to tutor two first grade students. And so began my journey into the world of letters and sounds, and to help others make the magical transformation of words into thoughts, ideas, and stories of adventure.

Over the past ten years, my opporunities have expanded from tutoring for two hours a week to: coordinating the program, increasing my volunteer time to five hours a week, tutoring at all elementary grade levels, and assisting at other schools as well. My students come from all different backgrounds: from the upper-middle class where parents and children are so over-scheduled that they can't or won't take the time to read, to homes where drinking, drugs, and divorce are all too common and create a wide variety of developmental and behavioral issues.

It would be unfair to say that I enjoy every moment of tutoring. Some days I struggle with a child who is beligerent, or one who yawns repeatedly from lack of sleep the night before. And occasionally I have a student who, as hard as he tries, cannot make the transition between blending sounds and putting words together. And so we forge onward. And then something clicks. And it is a beautiful moment.

And it is moments like that which motivate me to continue in my efforts. I've had numerous occasions when a child's eyes light up in recognition of a new word and who completes a book for the first time with pride and joy. I've heard students, not in the tutoring program, beg their teachers to be able to "go out in the hall and read with Mrs. Hatch." And one particular student, who stuggles with ADHD and anger management problems, said to me, "Mrs. Hatch, you taught me how to be a better reader. Thank you!" On those occasions, there is nothing more I want to be than a literacy tutor. And so each day, I relish the opportunity to return to school. Because, for just a few hours each week, I can make a difference in the life of a child.

The ability to read is a wonderful gift. What better way to show gratitude for that gift than to sit down with a child and share the magic that lies within the covers a good book? To read or not to read - is there really a question?

(Side note: I finished "The Lost Symbol" and have resumed my foray into "Anna Karenina.")

The Sequel

2009-09-21T15:00:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I was quivering with excitement.

This is the sequel.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Enough said!

So Many Choices, So Little Time

2009-09-20T16:00:00.000-07:00

Saturday dawned bright and clear. It was a highly anticipated day, as it was my first Saturday at home in quite a while. And I had so many things I wanted to do, I wasn't sure how I was going to fit it all in.

For starters, there were multiple football games on TV. And oh, how I love college football! I was sorely tempted to plant myself on the couch (ya know, like a potato) and cheer for team after team until well past sundown. But no, there were other activities vying for my time and attention. I completed the top for one baby quilt a few weeks ago, but I still needed to make the second quilt. The fabric had been cut out, and construction had begun, but I still had most of the quilt blocks to assemble. The thought occured to me that I could work on the quilt all day while listening to and half-watching the football games. That would have been fine, except there is a certain book that is begging to be read, and quickly, so that I can resume more productive literary pursuits. Football, quilting, reading. So many choices, so little time.

And so I came up with what I thought was a full-proof plan. I would work on the quilt and watch football for a few hours, take a break to read, and then resume my domestic/sports-minded pursuits. I was determined to watch USC, Utah, and Texas Tech win their games, assemble twenty quilt blocks, and read 200 pages. It sounded good!

And then reality set in. Shortly after waking, Dan requested a haircut. No problemo. That doesn't take too long. And then I remembered that my much-neglected physical self was in need of some exercise. Again, not to worry. I would just shift my planned activities back a couple of hours. But before I was even showered and ready for the day, the phone rang. A sister in the ward had undergone surgery a few days before and needed a ride home from the hospital - and a ride to Walmart to pick up her prescription. I was happy to help and would simply have to make a minor adjustment to my outline. But the hospital had failed to call in her prescription which would require an additional trip to Walmart later in the day. "That's okay," I told myself. "By then I will need a break from the quilt, anyway." I helped the sister get settled in her home and hurried back to my home to embark upon my projects.

With the TV on and the sewing machine humming away, I was beginning to settle into my desired arrangement when Dan suggested that we go out and test drive new cars. This request did not come out of the blue, as we have been anticipating the purchase of a new vehicle for some time. But really - right this minute? I pinned a few more quilt pieces together, reluctantly turned off the TV, and made a phone call to see if the prescription was ready. Assuring the sister that I would deliver her medication within a couple of hours, Dan and I hurried out the door.

Two hours later, we had test driven a car, signed documents, picked up and delivered a prescription, handed over a check, and then we drove home with this:

And I know I should have been much more excited to have a Honda Pilot parked in my garage, but by this time it was almost 3:00 and I hadn't yet accomplished anything I had previously set out to do. Though I did make a valiant attempt.

At the end of the day I watched USC, Utah, and Texas Tech LOSE their games, (I was 0-3 and not amused!), assembled ten quilt blocks, and read 50 pages. Oh well.

So many choices, so little...well...we just do what we can do!

A Literary Dilemma

2009-09-18T19:29:00.000-07:00

Reading has always been one of my favorite past times. I enjoy most genres - with the exception of science fiction and fantasy - and continually attempt to partake of a well-rounded literary diet. This past summer however, my diet, lean in quantity, was also lacking in quality.

With a schedule much more chaotic than anticipated, I occasionally found the time to consume a novel that was easy to read and provided nothing more than light entertainment. But as the school year approached, I determined that a cultural adjustment was in order. And so I returned to the classics.

I began reading Anna Karenina last spring, but abandoned the undertaking after only fifty pages. And so I decided this would be a good time to give the old girl another try. I launched into my first true encounter with Tolstoy with reckless abandon, determined to read and enjoy all 817 pages. And I have been reading. And I was enjoying, until...

...Dan Brown's latest novel, The Lost Symbol, hit the bookshelves. I then found myself in a literary dilemma. Would I be intellectually corrupt to take a short sabbatical from Russian fiction and delve into the mysterious world of signs and symbols? Or should I continue my more cerebral pursuits and save Robert Langdon for another day? The debate, though a challenging one, was short. I have temporarily succumbed to more simple-minded pleasures. For a few days, I shall join in "a deadly race through a real-world labyrinth of codes, secrets, and unseen truths." And then I will resume my adventure with Great Uncle Leo to discover the fate of Anna, Alexei, and Vronsky and to learn whether or not Kitty can ever return Levin's love.

Stay tuned...

A True Love of the Game

2009-09-14T19:05:00.000-07:00

Fall is finally here! The weekday morning air is filled with the chatter of children as they scurry off to school, and the bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils floats on the afternoon breeze. But it's not the beginning of the school year that I celebrate each autumn. Rather, it is the commencement of the college football season.

"Did that middle-aged woman just say football season?" you may ask. "Yes, indeed!" would be my reply.

I have always watched a little football now and then. But in the past few years, I have unashamedly developed a true love of the game. I'm not sure where my passion for the pigskin originated. I only know that I could happily watch two or three college games every Saturday. I love the spirited rivalries, the familiar refrains from the pep band, and the passionate roar of the crowd. I love the pass. I love the running game. I love the intense feeling of competition as a player struggles with all his might to gain an extra inch of ground.

Now, lest I mislead you, I must confess that I do not know how to read plays. And I can identify very few positions. I can't give you any stats, name any key players, or predict who is in line to win the Heismann. Maybe I lack the proper amount of testosterone. But no matter, I love to watch college football.

I will watch almost any match up, but I do prefer the following teams:
BYU - my alma mater
Utah - because they are a close rival of BYU and have the next best chance for a BCS game
Michigan - Justin's enthusiasm has sucked me in
USC - I like Pete Carroll
Ohio State - only to watch them lose
Notre Dame - see explanation above
Pretty much anyone in the top 25.

Other than BYU, I am rather ambivilent about any particular team winning. I generally watch for a few minutes, emotionally attach myself to one team, and root for them until the game is over. If "my" team loses - the emotional attachment is new enough that I quickly recover. During the game, however, I can get rather passionate. I've been known to yell at a player, express disgust with a coach, and question the call of a referee. And I can rarely sit upright through an entire game. I tend to lean in one direction or another, confident that my physical position will somehow give my team the extra edge it needs to either gain offensive yardage or suppress a threatening opponent. I will also scream, shout, and cheer when the team executes a particularly impressive play. It's a most wonderfully symbiotic relationship.

Ah, college football! There's nothing quite like it. Let the temperature drop, the leaves fall, and the cool breezes blow. It's all good. There's a football game on TV!

The Demise of a Confectionery Delight

2009-09-07T16:05:00.000-07:00

Ambrosia is often defined as the food of the gods, something especially delicious, or a nectar. While that may be good enough for mythological immortals, I prefer something with a richer, more satisfying flavor. I am partial to the unequalled combination of dark, fudgy chocolate and cool, creamy mint. For many years, the National Biscuit Company produced the perfect cookie to fulfill my craving. It was delightfully called the "Mystic Mint."

This magical cookie reigned supreme over the humble Oreo. Two chocolate wafers sandwiched a most satisfying layer of minty goodness which was then coated in a thick blanket of dark, rich fudge. These cookies - far too noble to be packed in an ordinary wrapper - were placed in a special plastic tray, which kept each cookie safely cushioned and protected, and then packaged in a beautifully adorned and wrapped box. These confections were always considered an indulgence and rarely made it to my shopping list. Instead, I would occasionally succumb to impulse and surreptitiously place a box in my cart. The cookies would then quickly be transferred to a drawer in my nightstand where I could indulge late at night while immersed in a good book. They were so rich and satisfying!

While confessing this luscious luxury to my good friend, Michele, I learned that she too had discovered the magic of the "Mystic Mint." A new birthday tradition quickly developed. Each September she would present me with a box of Mystic Mints, and each March, I would deliver the same gift to her door. This ritual continued unimpeded until an ordinary spring day about five years ago. I headed to the grocery story to purchase this greatly anticipated birthday gift, and upon entering the cookie aisle, felt a momentary panic when I could not locate the much loved wafers. I searched for a few minutes before discovering that Nabisco had, for reasons unexplained, changed the name and design of my confectionery favorite to the dull and unimaginative "Fudge Mint Oreo."

This new presentation was undoubtedly designed to appeal to commoners. I was not amused. Nevertheless, I was somewhat relieved and presented the aesthetically altered, yet still just as tasty, gift to Michele.

Had I been more in touch with my literary self, I would have recognized this as foreshadowing. For the Fudge Mint Oreo would soon forever be replaced in store shelves with the much less appealing, though still acceptable, "Milk Chocolate Mint Oreo."

For the last two or three years, we have been sharing the gift of Milk Chocolate Mint Oreos. But this fall, after searching the shelves of three different grocers, Michele discovered that a confectionery injustice had indeed been committed. For she was unable to find even one box of chocolate-covered mintyness. Oh the humanity! And now, we are left to wallow through the mire of our advancing years with counterfeit substitutes, such as Keebler Grasshoppers, or plain, uncoated Mint Oreo cookies.

This may very well be the beginning of the end of civilization as we know it. And it all started with the demise of a confectionery delight.

The Grasshopper Incident

2009-09-04T06:27:00.000-07:00

When I was about nine years old I loved grasshoppers. I would go in search of a grasshopper, pick it up, place it in my hand, and watch it spit "tobacco juice" all over my palm. I thought it was great fun at the time.

But somewhere between the ages of nine and twelve, I developed a serious phobia of all insect life. This phobia did not fully manifest itself until my seventh-grade science teacher, Mr. Orth, assigned the mother of all projects - to make an insect collection. I was horrified! How was I going to collect, mount, and label an assortment of creepy crawly creatures when I couldn't bring myself to come close to one - let alone touch one?

Enter my dear, sweet, supportive family. My dad and brothers were in constant search of a specimen to add to my collection. Each find was carefully placed in a jar and put into the freezer - a demise which would definitely not have been approved by PETA (or should I say PETI?), but it did a marvelous job of preserving the exoskeleton. (How else do you kill a bug without squishing it?)

When the freezer was filled with an impressive assortment of insects and it was time to mount each little bug, my family again came to the rescue. My parents mounted each specimen with a straight pin into a cigar box which I had obtained for this purpose. I carefully researched and labeled each one. And then, to compensate for my lack of hands on participation in this project, I set out to write the paper of all papers. I identified each subject by kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, and species. It was an impressive paper. So much so, that Mr. Orth gave me the highest grade I have ever received: an A+++ Outstanding!!! (The word 'outstanding' was underline three times!) I gladly shared those extra plusses with my most helpful family. It has been a source of laughter for us over the years.

Since then, I have learned to cope when insects are flitting about in their natural habitat. However, I still have a bit of a problem when a creeping little creature invades my home, like it did last night.

Yesterday I purchased some tiki torches for my grandsons to enjoy this weekend. Just before 9pm, while home alone, I decided to check them out and make sure they were ready to go. I unwrapped each one, adjusted the wick, and pulled out the snuffer. Dan was out of town to attend a funeral and called as I was unwrapping the last one. As I pulled out the snuffer, I could see some sort of debris inside. As I was trying to figure out what it was, it hopped out and on to the kitchen floor. I screamed! While talking to Dan - whose hearing was now impaired - I called for Mikki to search out and destroy the rather large, uninvited grasshopper. She was useless. Not only did she fail to get rid of Mr. Hopper, but she scared it so that is disappeared under the furniture somewhere in the family room. I was horrified!

I assured Dan I would be okay and let him enjoy the rest of his evening in peace. But as I hung up the phone I realized, to my horror, that I was alone in the house with - not just a regular bug, I can handle those - but a hoppity bug! Julie was at a football game. I quickly texted her to see when she would be home. Fortunately the game was ending and she returned shortly. When she walked in the house, she found me sitting in a chair in the kitchen, my eyes open wide. I said to her, "We have a problem." As soon as I mentioned 'grasshopper,' she jumped up on the arm of the couch. I explained that I would take a mop and sweep under each couch and chair while she waited with a broom to smash the bug to smithereens. I thought it sounded like a good - although somewhat terrifying - plan. But she proved herself to be even more phobic than I.

While laughing at ourselves and each other, we tried to figure out what we should do. And yes, we determined that we would have to stoop low enough to request outside help. Julie texted a friend who, sadly, was unavailable. She called the brother of another friend. He couldn't come. I called two neighbors with brave young men, but no one was home. (Come on people - it's 9:30pm and a school night. Where are you when I need you?) Julie finally called a good friend who was home celebrating his birthday with his family. He drove over and quickly disposed of the offending grasshopper. I was so relieved! I glanced over to the kitchen table, saw a Giant-sized Hershey Bar with Almonds which I had received as a birthday gift the day before, and thrust it into his hands. I thanked him profusely and said, "Feel free to laugh at us. I feel no shame."

And that - my friends - is the grasshopper incident. I woke up this morning feeling relaxed and confident that no unwanted hopping creatures were hiding somewhere. And it caused me to wonder - are there grasshoppers in heaven? And if there are - is it really heaven?

Happy Birthday to Me!

2009-09-02T06:00:00.000-07:00

I realize that the title sounds rather self-absorbed, but allow me to explain. While birthdays are typically days for receiving recognition, honor, and words of congratulations, most of the time they are just regular ordinary days - clothes need laundering, errands must be run, and meals prepared. So this year, instead of hoping that somehow this birthday will be something extraordinarily magical, I decided to create a little magic for myself by reflecting on my many blessings - and to specifically focus on my top twelve.

1. Dan - is one of the most caring, kind, and patient people I have every known. He rarely puts his needs and desires first. He motivates me to be a better person today than I was yesterday. He is my best friend!

2. Justin - is a hard-working and loving husband and father who, in spite of being the firstborn/guinea pig in the family, shows much gratitude and appreciation to me as his mother. Only rarely does he tease me with memories of his T-ball experience. :-)

3. Ashley - is the closest thing to a daughter that I could have ever hoped for in a daughter-in-law. She is a tremendous support to Justin, an amazing mother, and a great friend. She has also inspired this left-brained Hatch clan to develop their more creative side.

4. Taylor - likes to play and tease. When he gives me one of those sneaky looks out of the corner of his eye, my heart melts.

5. Braxton - loves to be in motion. He grabs my hand and pulls me downstairs to the toys saying, "Here, Gam-ma," and insists that I participate with him in a game or two of golf.

6. Kim - has perfected the art of motherhood. She selflessly devotes all of her waking moments to her children and does it with much more skill and patience than I ever had. (I guess each generation is supposed to be better than the last.) She is full of energy and enthusiasm and is a dear friend.

7. Chris - I must admit I had my doubts when first meeting Chris, as he was sporting a "Bob the Builder" wristwatch. ;-) However, he has proven to be a great husband, father, and provider, and has added much joy and laughter to our family. He also has great patience with my technological deficiencies.

8. Elliott - loves to take me on on walks through the neighborhood in search of sprinklers, mowers, and trimmers. He is enchanted with life, and enjoys sharing stories of his adventures.

9. Quinn - is best described as Quinner McGrinner. When he is excited about something, his eyes light up and he grins from ear to ear.

10. Jalayne - is daring, adventurous, and always willing to try new things. At the same time, she enjoys the comforts of home and family and is dedicated to all things traditional. She brings lots of energy to everything she does and lights up whatever room she enters. She is a doting aunt, a devoted sister, and a wonderful friend.

11. Clark - has always been able to keep things in perspective. He makes the most of each moment - sometimes serious, sometimes silly - and is able to focus on the important things in life. His steadfast service as a full-time missionary is an example to us all. (And the pictures he sends home are very entertaining!)

12. Julie - is the last bird in the nest. She is always fun to have around (and seems to like being around her mom and dad, too). She is a loyal friend and an excellent student. Even more importantly, she is firmly committed to living a life of integrity. She brings me great joy.

And there you have it. Happy Birthday to me! With twelve gifts like these, I couldn't possibly need any other presents. So let's blow out the candles and cut the cake.

My First Lesson in Life

2009-09-01T07:00:00.000-07:00

Some lessons, taught when we are young, are not fully comprehended until the passage of time and experience gives us greater wisdom, clarity, and perspective. Such is the case with my first lesson in life. It was undoubtedly one of the most profound and significant lessons I have been taught, though it was many years before I was able to grasp its meaning. For you see, this lesson was given to me on the day of my birth, September 2, 1960.

On that day, a young unwed mother taught me about unselfishness and sacrifice. Though details were never disclosed, I know that this young woman made a difficult decision that changed both of our lives for the better. She was allowed the opportunity to mature and become better equipped for the future challenges of marriage and motherhood. And I was given the supernal gift of an eternal family with a mother and father who were prepared with open arms to provide me with a loving home. To this young mother, I owe an overwhelming debt of gratitude.

But that is only part of the lesson, because that day I was also taught about unconditional love. I never remember being told I was adopted. It was something I grew up knowing. And because of my rather unique circumstances, I always felt extra special. Part of the reason may have come from my dear mother who used to tell me, "When we got the phone call telling us that there was a baby available for adoption, we hurried to the hospital. When we arrived at the nursery, the doctor told us we could choose any baby we wanted, and we chose you!" No child could feel more hoped for, wanted, or loved. I continue to express gratitude and appreciation to my parents for their unconditional love for me.

As my birthday hovers on the horizon, I am in awe of the many things I have learned in the past forty-nine years. But I will forever be grateful for my first lesson in life.

The Perfect Summer Day

2009-08-29T07:00:00.000-07:00

As the school year came to a close last spring, I began looking forward to a carefree summer with lots of time to read and relax. I had a mental picture of the perfect summer day which consisted of laying in the hammock for a few hours with a good book and a Diet Pepsi. (I know. A glass of lemonade creates a more perfect picture, but hey!) I was determined to create for myself that perfect day.

You get the idea

The days progressed, and I still hadn't found the time or opportunity to enjoy my summertime nirvana. I did have one uninterrupted day which provided the chance for a swing in the hammock, but my compulsion to finish a certain quilt would not allow me any time for lounging.

And here it is - the last official weekend of summer, for school starts on Monday. Have I lazed in the hammock yet? No. And now it's too late, for said hammock has literally come undone and will soon be surrendered to the landfill. 'Tis true. The hammock is gone, and the summer is gone. I failed in my quest for the perfect summer day.

Or did I?

Upon contemplation of my failed mission, I began to reflect on everything I did accomplish this summer. Here is a sampling:

*Partied with Taylor, Braxton, Dan, Kim, Elliott, Justin, and Jalayne on their birthdays
*Took part in Stake Youth Conference
*Vacationed in Newport Beach and San Diego
*Participated in three family reunions - LT Clark, GW Hatch, and Dan Hatch
*Visited two National Parks - Bryce Canyon and Yellowstone
*Celebrated the Fourth of July with picnics, a parade, and lots of fireworks
*Tended to a post-surgical Kim
*Made multiple trips to the pool and the park with all my grandsons - in addition to the zoo, the library, and the aquarium
*Attended performances of "Carmen," "Camelot," and "The Mikado" with Jalayne
*Escorted Elliott to swimming lessons
*Shopped for school clothes with Julie
*Lunched with friends
*Camped at Birch Creek
*Read the entire Book of Mormon
*Wrote lots of letters to my missionary son
*Pieced the top for a baby quilt
and...I even perused a book or two.

So while my quest for that one perfect summer day may have failed, I do believe I succeeded in creating a perfectly wonderful summer!

Quivering with Excitement

2009-08-28T12:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday afternoon, I received a phone call from Elliott. "Grandma," he asked. "Will you please make a quiver for my arrows?"

"Of course," I responded, and then quickly added, "May I talk to your mother?"

Kim confirmed that, sure enough, Elliott was in search of a quiver. And since I was remiss in teaching my daughter to sew, the request was laid at my - albeit inadequate - feet.

While I am most capable of sewing a straight line, my skills as a seamstress are quite limited, and the creative side of my brain is all but dormant. But the pleas of my three-year-old grandson caused me to give this project more than half-hearted consideration.

I was toying around with some design ideas this morning, thinking that I would eventually get around to attempting such a project, when I saw this...

How could I possibly let my grandson wander the neighborhood with a golf bag as a quiver?

I quickly finished my chores and headed to the fabric store with a vague idea of what I needed to begin the project. Making a beeline for an employee, I explained what I was attempting to create with my minimal sewing skills. She was most helpful as we discussed the material I would need and the design I had in mind. Two other customers were waiting for assistance while we gathered the supplies. As I completed my purchase, everyone in the store wished me good luck. I'm sure I provided a few chuckles and an eye roll or two. But, oh, if they could only see the finished project!

There is one minor design flaw that I'm hoping a three-year-old won't notice and that his parents will ignore. Otherwise, I'm pretty darn proud of myself. I guess you could say I'm quivering with excitement.

My Debut

2009-08-26T11:10:00.001-07:00

Here it is - my long awaited blogging debut!

I have toyed with the idea of creating a blog since May. And yet I hesitated for a number of reasons.

1. Would my children be interested in what I have to say? They assured me they would.

2. Should I make the blog private to immediate family members only? If I kept it that private, I might as well let our family reunions and holiday gatherings take the place of this forum.

3. On the other hand, did I really want to put my life out there where others could read and take note? I'm fairly confident that interest in my thoughts, opinions, and history will not extend too far outside the family realm before being employed as an over-the-internet sedative.

And so the decision was made. A blog will allow me to express the myriad thoughts that swirl around in this crazy brain of mine and have not - until now - found a place to rest. I am confident that my children will hold me accountable to keep my blog current and relevant. To the rest of you - enter at your own risk!