One Fine Morning...

It is likely you heard last week that we here in the Northeast were pummeled by a large snowstorm. Actually, the Northeast is always being pummeled by large snow storms this time of year. What you may not know, however, is that our little pocket of the Northeast is rarely hit by these storms. When there's 90 inches falling to the west, east, north, and south of us, we usually stay unfazed by it. Last Thursday, though, a storm came blowing through, and instead of hitting the good folk to the east, west, and south of us, it hit us straight on. Strangely enough, news of this forthcoming blizzard was greeting with hopeful anticipation: students in the area wore their pajamas inside out, put spoons under their pillows, and left salt on their window sills. This age-old tradition is performed to soften the hearts of school superintendents and to encourage them to issue the all important message: SNOW DAY . The snow gods heard the pleas of the children last Thursday night. Seminary was can...

My, oh, my have I been busy this week. It all started when a friend of ours at Church offered this armoire to me, free of charge, if I'd just come and pick it up. When we brought it in the house, we realized it was a little more beat up than we thought (okay, that's putting things mildly. Look at this thing. Did a cat get to it? Or maybe more like a tiger? Good heavens.). Not to worry, however. I called my sister, Julie, who happens to be quite an expert at all things house-restoring related (betcha didn't know that about her). She suggested I run down to the Home Depot and buy myself a sander. So I did. This picture is evidence for why my Valentine's card from Trent said that women with power tools are sexy. It's so true I just cannot deny it. In any case, I've spent the week sanding and scraping and trying to avoid lead poisoning. I kept hoping that underneath all of the layers of wear and tear, there was something beautiful just waiting to be discovered. Of c...

Editorial note: I wrote this back in December but never published it. I think I was chasing Lillian and forgot to hit the publish button. In any case, here it is, in honor of two more Sundays before we can put Lillian in nursery, the place where all happy 18 month olds go to play with their friends at church. "That little girl likes to move ," laughed my friend, Diane today as I chased quickly-trotting, merrily-moving Lillian today through the Relief Society room. "You think?" I said with a smile as I finally caught up with Lillian who was ducking (quite skillfully) to avoid my grasp. These days Lillian's favorite thing is to moving her little legs as fast as they can carry her. And, like her father, she does not like to feel like she is trapped. So when I placed (quite delicately) a brown leather high heeled boot against the end of the church pew this afternoon, Lillian was perturbed. She clearly did not like the fact that I had blocked off that side of the cha...

Tuesday morning did not bring out the best in me. Let me clarify: often, 5:00 a.m. in the morning does not bring out the best in me. Moreover, I teach a group of kids at that hour who have a way of letting me know when I am not awesome. And so, when the morning ended (or rather, began) at 7:00 a.m. and I made my way home through the snow filled streets, I felt more than a little upset. Teaching Seminary felt hard. Harder than I felt I was willing to give. Harder than I anticipated. Harder than felt fair. When I got home, Lillian was sleeping peacefully and Trent was downstairs working out. I barreled into the driveway, slammed my coat and church bag on to the counter top in the kitchen, and descended purposefully to the sound of the Power90X DVD emanating from my basement. Trent got an earful of my current list of reasons why it was madness for me to be teaching seminary. He stopped the work0ut DVD and sat down and listened. He listened carefully, acknowledged and validated my situati...