... with a View la deuxième fois

6:30 this morning

8:30 this morning

A Room with a View

Well you can't really tell, from the pictures, but trust me, the room now has a view.

There are a few things that Stone Restoration did that were low budget. One of them I well remember, and Norma's Randy made them do over - the bottom of the barrel line of siding. He said he couldn't in good conscience let it go because Neil always did things the right and best way. Like, he mentioned, the underwater-rated outdoor Christmas speakers that went the way of the fire trash. (And I must add it's a good thing Randy stepped in, because though an upgrade, it's still not what you could rate as top drawer.)

I know not why (though I'm sure it had to do with $$) but they put in nonmatching, even by brand, windows. No biggie other than the sunroom ones were so chintzy they developed that greasy-looking between-pane chemical reaction and so the last few years I left those blinds turned so at least I didn't have to look at them from the inside. I finally got over blaming Stone for that part of the problem, realizing it developed a number of years later and they'd have had no idea, and they were, other than that, a step up from what was there before. I do still regret that they failed to caulk on the inside and they didn't align them properly which over the years resulted in a warping effect. Had they done it properly though, it still wouldn't have stopped the between pane problem, according to this window company, so there's no point in blaming Stone for that either!

At any rate, I just got them replaced and am now basking in the room with the new and improved view. As well as knowing letting the light pour in won't harm the drapes and furniture, cooling/heating costs will improve a lot, and the church parking lot activity won't wake me up anymore during Sunday afternoon naps. ;^)

I must say, caulking is an art and these guys have got it down. Might well have been why Stone didn't do it - sans the art it would have been another Randy do over on that dark wood.

"Steady as she goes...."

Hopefully the savings will ascend to the level I can get the two front windows replaced next spring. No, don't worry, not the leaded glass part, just the big picture windows underneath which have far less than perfect storm window protection. Then it will be Room(s) with View(s)!

Spring Ain't Exactly Sprung ...

... but the break for it is history. (Leastwise it's iffy when it freezes/snows.) But what a good one it was. No, I didn't mark it with any partying/festivity or recreation/vacation, but I did mark it in the time-honor Fugal tradition of working it. Kinda like we "celebrated" Labor Day each September, as I'm sure Janeil and Lois well remember.

And no, I didn't take this picture either, but it depicts a real place in this county, not far, where they on purpose grow miles and miles of lavender fields (Young Family Farm). Though the picture does give you that springtime feel, in this climate it blooms ... in summertime.

All that being surmised, it has been a very productive spring break. Filled the trash can full of "might nevers": clothes I might never wear, school nutrition magazines I might never read, Reader's Digests I might never reread, boxes of shed stuff nobody might never want, old Neil/Ruby miscellany nobody but me might never care about.

Then it got picked up and I filled it full again with yard clippings: dead raspberry canes, old soaker hoses with too large holes created by persons who feel the need to turn my water on full blast, the third post-winter dead leaf collection, all the dandelions needing popping though I did put down a fall pre-emergent, five grocery bags of the church tree pods, rose bush trimmings cut into bits to fit the most in the can (with more to go!), and annoying vines from the church side of the fence. (You shouldn't plant vines if you're going to fill your chain-link with slats, though it's entirely possible Norma planted them and they crossed over.)

Then a goodly dose of Halts and ant bait all around, staked out new soaker hoses, gave my cherry tree is second dose of anti-aphidness, did some indoor cleaning when the weather wasn't cooperating, emptied the kindling from the back shed (a post of another day), breathed in a lot of dust, thought about how much dust my Dad breathed in over the years as well as the Webb boys when they mucked out the garage after the fire, bought some looking-forward-to-summer stuff, watched Netflix Goal! (1) again, 90% of that late night dumb western and Tuesdays with Morrie, gobs of indexing, a trip to the temple, finished my taxes, two more nights and I'm done with the Book of Mormon (started in January), and ate cake. Magleby's chocolate, of course. With a glass of milk.

And lest I sound too much a braggart, I must say both of my parents at the age I am now, could and did out-work me clear back/beyond the age I was then! Love it when the yard/house are picked up and presentable, there's no longer miles to go before I sleep, and there's still a day left before it's back to salt mines of another kind.

Nuts. Anyone remember how Good Day for a Hanging ends? It started whilst I was finishing up my indexing for the day, and per usual, what with the usual late-night advertisement prolificacy, I faded away only to wake up as the bad guy lies dead on the gallows, shot I'm betting since the noose lies neatly at his side, and the sheriff happily walks off into the sunset with his fiancée who, same as his daughter and the rest of the town, was last I knew against him, believing the sheriff's high morals were false. "Justice is in the eye of the beholder," so it says on the imaginary marquee. Not too likely anyone can tell me though, since it's too old for any google-addict to have cared to post any spoilers, and Grant and his pa are the only outlaws amongst us I know of and we're not all on speaking terms....

Question for Greg, Carl and all my other IT savvy nephews...

I woke up early this morning from an especially vivid dream. I'm sure it subconsciously begins with this:

Are You Ready? by Pink Elephant

I'd been following Kirk Wiesner (The Cookie Thief) on Facebook and he posted it when it had just begun it's debut on youtube. (You'll note that the diehard IT guys who commented actually don't "get" it! Heck, even Billy Idol gets it! And since going up 2/21, it's been viewed over 11,618 times.)

Soon after, various people in the know talked the boss into letting our department go Facebook and I suggested we begin with this video. Then we scrambled to come up with a catchy name and I said how about ITSMeals at Provo School District.

So then, as just over a month has gone by and we're "tending" ITSMeals daily, I have this dream:

I am in a business meeting with a company I've not long worked for. I don't know anyone there other than, oddly enough, our district superintendent. He doesn't know me from Adam (which is another story which will remain untold). There are a lot more men in attendance than women, say 30 men to 5 women. The women, other than moi, are... how shall I say this... "sweet young things." I feel comfortable just the same. (Yes, it's okay, go ahead and laugh.)

The meeting goes well and we take a break. This guy walks up to me and asks me if I know where one of our people are, his brother Mark (as in Zuckerberg, and no, I haven't seen the movie). I'm impressed with myself that I remembered one of them was named Mark, and said, pointing, "He just went out that door." He said, motioning to my phone, "Stop him!" So I flip open my cheapie nonsmart cell phone and, oddly, an app appears that shows all the comments that have been made in the meeting. I'm like, wow, but I say, "I don't know how to stop him!?" He says to click on his name (which is a feat since my phone doesn't have a touch screen nor a keyboard, not even in the dream) and IM him, so I do that somehow and "yell" one word, "STOP!" It works and Mark's brother finds him seconds later.

After the break is over, I pass Mark and he says he's written me a thank you note and I smile/nod in acknowledgment. I'm looking all over for it (people are not sitting where they were sitting before the break), and think "oh well" as the meeting starts up again. A few pages are sitting at each chair, and it's all the words that have been spoken in the meeting, thus far, and who said them. I'm thinking, wow, this is great, no more note-taking. The meeting drones on, and I have my same cheapie phone flipped so I can follow the written as well as verbal version (where I notice the thank you from Mark). One of the "sweet young things" is saying, as the dream ends, we are all to Not. Ever. purchase anything from Muir... "I HATE Muir, buy from Dunn's." (I googled Dunn's and there IS a food store by that name in Georgia, but I promise you, their produce can't hold a candle ...even in a dream... to Muir's!) *smile*

As we all gather our belongings, I'm wondering if we need to wait to get the rest of the written version of the meeting and finally comment to the person next to me who says, "You can get the rest on Olifont." No lie, "Olifont." (I googled it today at work and it so happens it's "the world's first interactive journal." Interesting.)

So my question is, all you IT experts, IS there an app for that!?? (Not Olifont, I'm talking go-live note-taking for meetings.)

(And no, Grant, I'm not wondering if it fits in any sense of the story as anything prophetic.) *wink*

Get a little INDEPENDENCE in your life!

Almost weekly we office folks visit the schools to document and help them celebrate two events - our theme for the year, Wild West Days (we're all cowboyed up) and Calendar Days (to get monthly themed pictures for the cooks' calendar).

Since we're all old as dirt (from a school-aged student's point of view, and especially me of course even from their parents!), we recruited the receptionist to go with us. She's not only young, she's beautiful and full of vim and vigor. Last year she taught the kids the Macarena. This year it's line dancing. It has been so fun watching the kids get excited as we walk in the door because they know the dancing is about to begin - a whole lot more fun than the usual recess. We take the same CD (a compilation) with us to every school and crank up the volume. Most schools have great sound systems in the lunchroom because they are either next to or pinch hit as the gymnasium.

Now the 10th-12th graders are mostly too cool for any of this so we bring some added incentive - $15 Burger King gift cards. Yes, I know... Child Nutrition and all that. =]:^D Well, on the way to Independence High School, Ally, the receptionist, has this bright idea - Karaoke. Simultaneously, the kitchen manger decides she's going to get permission to invite a few of the more socially outgoing to come to lunch a few minutes early. View the short movie to see what happened. (The other movie maker besides me is the school principal.) (And Ally is the redhead.) (Click off the music, top left.)

In the News

Nourishing Your Future

Check out “ITSMeals at Provo School District.”

Make our day in a good way by “Liking” us on Facebook.

The top (as in latest) entry on 4/1/11 is my boss winning a national award. All the pictures are our own. We bought a very nice camera with food rebates in the form of Best Buy gift certificates - the boss uses that one (she does most of the “posed” pictures you see) and the rest of us use our own. Tempts me to buy a better camera. Every time I see Jewel I have her clean up my bad random settings - which I’d have to do with a new one too! But besides that, I need to retire one of these days….

Background on the award.

We buy our produce from Muir Copper Canyon Farms.

Well, let me go back a little further. We belong to D.O.D. - yes, the Department of Defense, the federal department responsible for safeguarding national security. Same angle I suppose as the reason the government got involved in food at school in the first place - needing those who join the armed services to get there, and even merely qualify, in a more healthy condition.

When D.O.D. first got involved in providing funds for school fruits and vegetables, it was, as is anything else bureaucratic, fraught with rules, rules, rules. THEY decided who our vendor would be each year, which was never the same and was, as in almost anything else bureaucratic, nonsensical - one year our produce came all the way from North Ogden. (I protested this logic in a state meeting with them once and basically got slapped down.) ((Was still gratifying to publicly point out both their lame and sledge-hammer style.)) (((Hummm. That next year might have been the year we were assigned to North Ogden….))) J

Imagine. You have placed orders but you can’t get them any where near the same day you want to use them, so quality is compromised for that one fact alone. Add to that, jostled in a truck 85 or more miles! And to that needing something in a pinch or correcting a problem!

Granted we did once or twice get a Utah County supplier and it was also somewhat problematic because they weren’t really big enough to service us properly. One year we were blessed to be assigned to Muir Cooper Canyon Farms out of Salt Lake City. They are not only nice people who know how and are willing to communicate, they buy the best, and have the skill to pick appropriately as to quality and quantity. We were very sad when that year ended.

Eventually D.O.D. got a brain (about gasp saving transport expenses) and let us pick our own. Yeah! After being with Muir for a number of these last years, they requested our approval and support in nominating our program director, for a national award. She was reluctant in that though she does want and strives for recognition, it is for our program, not herself. We finally convinced her, yes it’s you but we’ll write the nomination so that you represent Provo School District Child Nutrition Program’s team effort.

We’d successfully won a big award the year before (Best of State 2010), and were excited to write and “decorate” a new nomination application. We are a team in that regard as well, and though stressful, we thoroughly enjoy it. Colleen has a flair for decorating, I have a flair for writing, Jenilee has the flair for keeping us in line with what’s the best representation for the district and the students, and we all including Bill give our input as to each other’s pieces in the total package. Muir has belonged to this association, United Fresh, for many years, in fact, Muir is a family company, founded in 1850, and grandpa had been chairman of United Fresh. Every year Muir nominates someone. The application packet we provided, garnered them their first win. We were told Jenilee won hands down.

United Fresh is a trade association, founded in 1904, representing the interests of produce companies and their partners throughout the world. United Fresh holds great power in the federal aspects of what regulations filter down to district child nutrition programs. Jenilee will be part of a panel discussing “Lessons in Produce Excellence from the Front Line” during its annual convention and the award ceremony will take place in New Orleans early in May 2011.

To See or Not to See (that was the question)!

I have been living without my eyeglasses since before Christmas. Especially not happy about it because I needed them for my Christmas trip to Vegas! (It's one thing to be blind at home and at work but "in public" is another matter!) Now I wasn't totally blind because I have older versions I can use which are not for public consumption due to style and/or extremely scratched, scarred and marred lenses. And I said a little prayer that the lenses didn't fall out as well while visiting Jewel! (Even though Johnny is a master fixer person, I doubted he had that small of a screwdriver.)

I was totally sure they were at home other than the fact that it was entirely possible that I put them in a place that provided a ride to the trash can, and as time wore on, that possibility seemed more and more likely.

I finally found them ... AFTER buying a new pair. I was at least smart enough to decide I'd buy sunglasses because then they'd at least be cheaper, finding nice but on sale frames and picking a solid color instead of the self-darkening transition lenses. And since part of the deal was I could replace them if scratched, I got Veralux but not the extra scratch protection. And the plan then was to replace the lost when I could replenish my flex spending account.

And so how did I find them, you say, these long four months later? The Scouts had a food drive and when I went downstairs to peruse the dates on the cans in the fruit room, there they sat on the top shelf ... where I took them off searching for the LAST Scout food drive just before Christmas! Not very comforting, to lose one's glasses having to take them off to be able to see!

And am I, penny-pincher that I am, regretful of the purchase? No. Why we consumers have to change style willy nilly is pretty dumb when you consider how much better you can see, I can verify, with larger lenses. So I'm fine - I'll save those too-small orbs for indoor public consumption only, and fully enjoy the larger ones everywhere else.

THREE POSTS TODAY! START AT THE BOTTOM!

[Stupid Blogger!! Yes - "it" AND "me"]

(3 of 3) Part Two:

(Ruby's courtship comments,

back in 1972, during the years we corresponded by cassette.)

Insight: The Great Depression (1929-1939) surrounded the years my parents became acquainted, graduated from high school, Neil's mission, their marriage, college, and the arrival of their first child. Neil wrote twelve letters to Ruby while on his mission (a post of another day). The lung problem she speaks of was emphysema acquired from breathing dust all those work years.

Courtship Comments from Gail Adamson on Vimeo.

(2 of 3) Part One:

Abdul Abulbul Amir from Gail Adamson on Vimeo.

The sons of the Prophet were brave men and bold and quite unaccustomed to fear,
But the bravest by far in the ranks of the shah, was Abdul Abulbul Amir.

If you wanted a man to encourage the van, or harass the foe from the rear,
Storm fort or redoubt, you had only to shout for Abdul Abulbul Amir.

Now the heroes were plenty and well known to fame in the troops that were led by the Czar,
And the bravest of these was a man by the name of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

He could imitate Irving, play poker and pool, and strum on the Spanish guitar,

In fact quite the cream of the Muscovite team was Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

One day this bold Russian had shouldered his gun and donned his most truculent sneer,
Downtown he did go where he trod on the toe of Abdul Abulbul Amir.

"Young man," quote Abdul,"hath life grown so dull that you wish to end your career?
Vile infidel know, you have trod on the toe of Abdul Abulbul Amir.

(Then take your last look at sunshine and brook and send your regrets to the Czar
For by this I imply, you are going to die, Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.")

Said Ivan, "My friend, your remarks in the end will avail but little I fear,

For you ne'er will survive to repeat them alive, Mr. Abdul Abulbul Amir!"

Then this swath man aloof drew his trusty chibouque, with a cry, "Allahu Akbar!"

And with murderous intent he ferociously went for Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

They parried and thrust, they side-stepped and cussed, of blood they spilled a great part;
The philologist blokes, who seldom crack jokes, say that hash was first made at that spot.

They fought all that night neath the pale yellow moon; the din, it was heard from afar,

And huge multitudes came, so great was the fame, of Abdul and Ivan Skavar.

As Abdul's long knife was extracting the life, in fact he was shouting, "Huzzah!"
He felt himself struck by that wily Kalmuck, Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

The sultan drove by in his red-braided fly, expecting the victor to cheer,
But he only drew nigh to hear the last sigh, of Abdul Abulbul Amir.

Czar Petrovich, too, in his spectacles blue, rode out in his new crested car.

He arrived just in time to exchange a last line with Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

There's a tomb rises up where the Blue Danube rolls, and engraved there in characters clear,
Are, "Stranger, when passing, oh pray for the soul of Abdul Abulbul Amir."

A Muscovite maiden her lone vigil keeps, neath the light of the pale Polar star,
And the name that she murmurs so oft as she weeps, is Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

Abdul Abulbul Amir

(1 of 3)

Well, speaking of the Middle East...

(the Holy Land and Dardanelles part of the Crimean War...)

and the fact that Neil Y. Fugal was born on Valentine's Day...

(and on that day always gave both his wife and his mother a dozen red roses...)

I've posted a two-parter. [Turn off Playlist above.]

It was recorded in 1972 and gives you a snippet into the lives of Ruby and Neil and their courtship. Part One is Neil singing Abdul Abulbul Amir, a poem written in 1877. It was the one I most requested of the many long poems he could recite. You'll hear a slight stumble as he searches for the right words in one spot. Part Two is Ruby's memories of their courtship.

(This is sooo my Dad. Sang that song to us perhaps fifty times but kept the meanings, by jingo, to himself, so that one day I might snicker, for example, at:

"The philologist blokes, who seldom crack jokes, Say that hash was first made on that spot."

I doubt he ever explained it to Ruby either. You had to ASK if you wanted to know. Rest assured he knew. I can still hear in my head his chuckle, HAD I asked. He never lorded it over you that you knew less than he did, because he knew that would kill the spark. He was really big on leaving the path strewn with the sparks that would keep your fire of inquisitivity lit.)

Huzzah!

Pleasant Grove High School put on Phantom of the Opera and I got invited to opening night. This was part of the opening night goodies. Dinner was donated - I picked a salad from Olive Garden, the fresh fruit tart from Kneaders, and chocolate cake from Magelby's. Obviously, it takes back stage to seeing it in Vegas with Jewel, but it was amazing, from the chandelier on a pulley to the gondola floating across the stage to the full pit orchestra to the 10-foot elephant.

They had to curtain off part of the hallway to accommodate the stage scenery. Part of the package was the full bore recording to sometimes back up the student orchestra. They spent two months building the set. This was the first year it has been available for amateur high school productions and they more than did it full justice. I found out last year they did Les Misérables. Rest assured I'll be paying attention this time next year!

His Boots Now Stand Empty

In early December I went with Lois and Don to our Uncle Boyd's funeral, the last of the three brothers to pass away. The highlights for me were Afterglow singing, the stake president's speech (he among the younger children in my growing up neighborhood), and the fly-by at the cemetery. The stake president ended the funeral with a poem written by his wife. I tried my best to get a copy and finally -happy day- it arrived. You'll readily see why I wanted it.

His boots now stand empty – there by the back door.

His feet will not fill them to go do the chores.

Just one pair of many – worn out and long gone,

Yet his footsteps still echo in our hearts like a song.

His boots weren’t always gleaming – with a spit-polished shine.

The truth is, most often, they were covered with grime.

They climbed on the tractor, they hopped in the truck,

They shared space with shovels digging trenches in muck.

By the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat thy bread,

Seemed eternally woven into every boot tread.

His boots traced his pattern – hoeing row after row,

He rose before sunrise, to feel morning’s fresh glow.

Yes, his boots oft sat idle but his feet did not rest.

Boots simply wouldn’t do, when he dressed in his best.

They were frequently traded for dress shoes with laces,

As he went forth to serve, standing firm in holy places.

A good man, a great man, a giant of a guy,

In boots he loved working – a twinkle in his eye.

Many pairs of boots served him throughout his great life,

As his dedicated labors served the Lord, his children, his wife.

Besides boots, his feet were shod with the gospel of peace,

That knowledge sustains us, in the days of our grief.

He thrust in his sickle with all of his might,

Now he’s secured his salvation with all of its light.

Yes, his boots now stand empty, there by the back door,

But his footsteps will linger in our hearts evermore.

In memory of Boyd L. Fugal by Jill Taylor Ringger,

Stake President Mark Ringger’s wife.

Slightly modified by Gail F. Adamson

to “fit” all the Fugal and Sons boot-wearers. 2011

It never ceases to amaze me how interconnected spiritual awareness and utter despair can be. No, I'm not saying I'm manic-depressive, I'm saying take a look at James Chapter 1. The NIV version:

2Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

13When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; 14but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed. 15Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death. 16Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers. 17Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.18

Now I only quote the NIV to get your attention. And these are my illustrative experiences of late.

We moved from one church building to another half a block away. I suppose they though it would be nice for us to pass more of our neighbors as we sally forth, since those on one church's side of the road now cross over, and vise versa. Especially on a day like today when I fell trying to skirt the extra half-block's black ice. The old organ was an Allen digital. The new organ is an Allen Protege. Not that it isn't digital as well, but I was warned it needed to be figured out. First I had to find a manual as the envelope in the bench was empty and none of the clerk's offices were forthcoming. According to the manual you have acquired the most advanced electronic organ ever built, one that harnesses a sophisticated custom computer system to create and control beautiful organ sound. Then I discovered none of our more accomplished organists would be available to play it the first morning we'd meet there. So then I found a willing novice, which turned out was no small feat, and after I read the manual (and invited her to read it which she never got around to), we paid the chapel a visit. And another visit. And another visit. One nice thing about the new building is there are no locks on the chapel doors, so if a car is there, you're in like Flynn. Well I suppose that was not quite the idiom to pick... (just waking you up from your slumber). Suffice it to say the regular organist in 10 minutes figured out more than we did in hours. Today, his second Sunday, he blew us all away with his snazzy style. So all that frustration culminated in a world made better than the old. And I am prepared to be of actual assistance in that regard when we have the inevitable sub, having scaled that mountain as best as can a former violinist.

(An Allen Protege)

Same deal with choir of late. Came down to the point we'd have only one practice for HC Sunday and the director hadn't picked a hymn, though repeatedly requested. So I studied it out and picked one for her. She wanted to transition a verse to another hymn in that meter and wanted me to align the key (the morning of!). I don't have a printer so I walked her through it on the phone. Somehow she showed up with it in the original key, so can that idea. I'd worked hard doing all the other cut/paste things she wanted done to it, to make it as friendly for the single practice as possible. So the choir is disgruntled and she's passing the buck ("Gail picked it"), and also complaining about the lack of transitional notes re another meter choice she'd made. She'd told me to get the pianist to figure that one out and I had taken the enlarged version I'd made (he has vision problems) to him five days before (his eyes are old like mine), duly noting her request and he hadn't done one thing about it and announced to one and all he didn't know how to do that. Sigh. So I'm feeling pretty discouraged and unhappy about all the kill-the-messenger daggers I'm collecting (several of which I've not mentioned). The day arrives, we sing, it goes much better than anyone could have expected, the HCman gets up and announces that we made him cry and how did we know that he picked that very hymn to base his speech upon. Yes!

I think part of the successful end to these stories has to do with more than persevering and trials of faith and not being deceived. I truly think Heavenly Father blesses us when we give him the chance to see that we personally have upped the ante (I know, I know!) as far as obedience goes. I had the distinct pleasure of being invited to lead the music at Grace's baptism. So preparing for that and witnessing it, I am sure, influenced the outcome of how things went in my life the next day. I always bask in the joy of hearing my sisters and their husbands' testimonies. (Janeil and Eldon gave the baptism and holy ghost lessons.)
Another ante of influence relates to the fact that I do really well at reading the scriptures daily, then my excessive work schedule rolls around for several months each fall and not only does scripture reading fall by the wayside, so does wanting to pick it back up! I also need desperately to get more exercise but my knees are shot and I procrastinate what needs be done otherwise to accomplish it.

I actually don't mind getting old, or being old, but I do mind feeling it. Having my birthday acknowledged (office decorations) reminds me of all of that.

Finally an idea came to me - to do some floor exercising with little knee impact and listen to the Book of Mormon on tape while I'm doing it. I'm actually loving it! The idea came as a tender mercy. As well as finding out today that my next three special numbers and my music outline for all but one selection for the rest of January and February have been approved! Yes! (If you knew the struggle surrounding that process in our particular ward, you'd add a lot more exclamation points!)

And so I count that as joy as well, and feel His awareness of me as a result of all these events. There is nothing better in life that being able to feel God's awareness. And knowing that He's there for us, both in the thick (heartbreaking) and thin (mundane) of things. And so if having to deal with the heartbreaking/mundane trial part gets me there, I'm more than willing.

Lastly, I need to add one more facet in all of this already too long blog, which in many ways Defines The Joy. I'm just as good as anyone else, if not better, at failure. When you make a choice to change something and Heaven Father's included in the process and confirms it by the awareness I speak of above, you can count on it a whole lot more than when He's absent from the goal. I well remember several for-the-better choices I finally made in my life and the struggle evaporated courtesy of including Him in the process.

So to make a very long story short: Count the Joy!

Post Christmas Tinkering (turn off playlist)

Recorded 12/27/10 (11 days shy of 18 months).

I edited this (took off the end where she moved off screen) and couldn't get it to post. No failure message just the clock running forever. So then I saved it as a QuickTime, no luck posting it as such either. So then I zipped it, no luck. So then I downloaded it on Vemeo. Worked but then I noticed the clarity is lacking, and it pitches up for some reason in all of them except the original. So I'm back to the original, warts and all. Well extra warts and all which are less bothersome than the conversion alternatives.

And just for the record, watching this reminds me that I am not as smart as I sometimes think I am (in many more ways than one!). I see now how interested she was in seeing herself (in the beginning - I did "get" that at the end) and should have pursued it more. And how she tried to follow the pot boiling concept and I'm stuck on the doorbell. Makes me want to "record" my whole life, watch it again and get to have a do-over. As it is, I think judgment day (for me) is going to be a long one....

In the meantime, Raygen, you are a precious toddler of God, and it was my pleasure to play with you, even if I'm a little slow on the uptake.

Went downtown tonight, courtesy of the Scarboroughs

(first time I've been downtown in years),

dinner at Taqueria Canonita in The Venetian.

I actually thought the sky was real until it dawned on me

that it was past dusk when we drove in!

We had warm chips with guacamole and salsa,

shared Cazuela de Camarones Y Almejas

(grilled skewered shrimp and clams in the shell, with blackened tomatoes,

Marisco broth and tomatillos with corn, white rice, and grilled bread),

and Tres Leches for dessert (sponge cake soaked with three different milks,

strawberry jelly, raspberry coulis,

topped with vanilla ice cream on a bed of diced cantaloupe,

decorated with a single raspberry, single blackberry and mint).

We watched the gondolas throughout the meal,

and listened to the boat(wo)men serenading their customers

and us in Italian as they floated by.

Then on to Phantom of the Opera at The Palazzo next door.

Jewel and I saw it in Salt Lake City years ago, her birthday request.

This one even grander as you can imagine Vegas being what it is.

We sat right behind the chandelier which came crashing down.

The Salt Lake crashing version was also spectacular

but we were a lot closer to this one.

Tons of special effects including several trap doors.

The place was packed - a sea of people

on the grand staircase when we exited.

Magic when we left as well.

Jewel had wanted to valet park to save my knee but they were full up.

We got in a row of about five cars waiting for people to pull out -

Jewel passed them all, pulled around the corner and snapped up

a spot right in front of the elevators.

Wonderful memories. Thanks Jewel and Johnny!!

Christmas Las Vegas Style

We'll, Hayd needn't have worried -

he must have been pretty high on the nice list

for Santa did 'deliver.' But I'm ahead of myself.

This was his school Christmas artwork.

The top ornament was made by his teacher, so picture another 23!

The other two ornaments were this year's annuals for Hayden and Raygen.

Jewel's visiting teachers came Friday morning

so their gift was the first on her list,

chocolate-coated carrot cake balls.

Then various other projects including

the dough for Christmas breakfast cinnamon rolls,

homemade pizzas for Christmas Eve dinner,

gingerbread men for Santa and chow for the raindeer,

Hayd's plate he writes his list on each year,

Despicable Me and the new and improved Horton Hears a Who,

Norma's crying Santa story just before bed,

honey-baked spiral ham for Christmas dinner

with green beans and cheesy creamy hash browns.

Various people in/out and round about!

I asked Hayden if he'd made a Santa list at his Dad's -

"of course not - the plate's at Mom's house."

Proof-positive that Santa showed up:

Jewel's blog recounts the family presents and mine awaits -

Dinner Monday night at the Venetian overlooking the gondolas,

then on to Phantom at The Palazzo.

Might I say ... wow now! ... and double wow later!!

Wishing all of you the very best holiday wishes!