Under the Tree

As if getting ready for the holidays wasn't hard enough--trying to appear like I care whether Christmas comes or not--going to the store and not buying gifts for my son.

This week has been such a struggle.  I know it's different, but I know what it's like to have your child one day and not the next.  All I've been able to think about all week is the presents already under a tree for children who don't get to open them.  There's probably legos and barbies and hot wheels.  Moms and dads have to pick up those wrapped gifts and decide what to do with them.  The homemade macaroni ornaments just became the most treasured thing they own.
I have kept my news exposure to a minimum.  The first day I heard reporters and police officers say the most asinine things.  "Healing" and "closure" and "back to normal".  I even heard one cop say it was as hard on them as it was on the families.  Wow.

Tonight I finally blew.  I started stressing about being with family for Christmas.  Everyone will be together--not.  We'll go out to dinner; there'll be photos and hugs and everyone saying how much the kids have grown.  Ian won't be there. 

I got 16 Christmases with him.  Some of 'em were touch and go.  Now they're just gone.

Honor

I heard a quote recently and don't really know who the original source is.  On the internet it is attributed to both Plato and Louis Pasteur.  I guess it doesn't really matter.  It's a good thought either way.

"What is honored in  a country is cultivated there."

I remember when I was in Hong Kong, there were trading cards in all the little shops with movie and pop stars faces on them.  I thought it was so ridiculous.  I was so glad it wasn't that way in the states.  Fast forward 20 years.  In our society today, what is revered more than celebrity?  Whether it is music or movies or sports or just the latest idiot who is willing to bare all on reality TV.  That's what we, as a  society, are honoring these days and that is what we are cultivating.

Sick huh?

Wouldn't it be great if we honored hard work or paying your own way or fulfilling your commitments?  Wouldn't it be great if everyone wasn't looking for the easiest, fastest, most self-promoting way to get ahead?

I'm certainly not above the fray.  I let Lucy fill out the Publisher's Clearinghouse every time it comes and even though I don't do it, I always want to by a powerball when the jackpot gets big. 

Wish I could think of a way to turn the tide; help everyone honor something worthwhile and cultivate something new.

Yeah that was kind of a lazy post. Oh well.  It's a good thought even if I didn't expound on it well.

Dylan's Suit

I have note cards and scraps of paper sitting here at the desk for all the posts I shoulda woulda coulda done in November.  There are even some things that I feel really strongly about.  I miss typing away here.   There are many reasons I haven't been doing it.  First, I'm tired at night.  I have stopped staying up til 2 or 3 in them morning, at least most of the time.  Second, I spend my 4 hours a day at work on the computer.  Third, the kids do their homework and all their recreational surfing right here on this computer.  Fourth, Keith is a busy bee answering all his bishop emails.  Fifth, and most likely, I have found less churning ways to cope.  Ways that don't bare my soul or leave me in tears or even remind me how lonely I am.

One of them that's not on my note cards is Dylan's suit.  There's a boy in my ward.  He's about 13, close to 14 I think.  He's getting taller every week.  He's even getting a shadow under his nose.  He's a great kid and I think a lot of him.  He's always respectful and doesn't treat Mikey like the younger kid in the group.  He wears a navy blue suit to pass the sacrament.  He's been growing out of it for a while.  You can see about 2 inches of wrist now. 

Long before Thanksgiving his mom told me it would be a very practical Christmas this year.  Dylan needs a new suit.  I told her she should keep an eye out at thrift stores.  She could find a real bargain.  This is where the story goes somewhere nobody could expect.  From the first conversation many weeks ago until now, every week when I see him passing the sacrament, I notice the suit.  And then my mind drifts to the suit I bought Ian at a thrift store.

He and his best friend wanted to be the Blues Brothers for Halloween one year.  I took the two of them shopping for suits for their costumes.  Chad was easy to find the size because he was much bigger than Ian, but since I was buying both of them, it needed to be dirt cheap.  Ian's on the other hand, was tricky because he was so small.  I think at the time the boys  were 12, maybe 13 and he was about as narrow across the shoulders as any 12 year old ever was.  We finally found something that might work.  It was a size 16.  It was a really high quality wool, black on black pinstripe suit.  It hung on him and we pinned the pant legs up.  It was one of the best costumes ever.  He and Chad won the costume contest and had a great time.

That's the suit we buried Ian in.

At 15 it fit him perfectly and he looked so handsome in it.  He should have blessed the sacrament in it his first time;  Could have gone on some dates in it.

I guess if you love Halloween and you want to go shopping at thrift stores with your mom. . .

I hope Dylan doesn't get a thrift store suit.

Day of the Dead

November 1st and 2nd

I saw the images of Day of the Dead, All Saints Day and All Souls Day on the internet and was intrigued.  They were celebratory.  They were bright.  They weren't about people hiding their grief.  People weren't changing the subject.  They were saying, "I love people who aren't here anymore, but still exist."

There can be beauty in remembering.  There can even be joy.  It can be a communal thing, not a lonely thing.  I read this article and thought I would share it.

Day of the Dead - A Celebration

By David Mclaughlin

Rituals and traditions can provide a sense of place and timelessness. They offer us the opportunity of feeling connected to what has gone before and what will continue through the corridors of time. It seems to me that of the three countries in North America, Mexico has developed a culture that has some of the richest and most meaningful rituals. One in particular I have adopted as it gives me much that I did not have when I lived in Canada.
As happens to all of us, I have reached that age where death of loved ones and friends is a too often occurrence. Many of these deaths happened while I was living in Canada, and yes, the rituals of burial and memorial services were powerful in helping me work through the process of grieving their deaths and my losses. But after that was over, and the usual "time for grieving" had passed, there was nothing in my society that actively supported my continuing relationship to and feelings about these loved people who were no longer alive. Certainly they were gone, but my memory of them, of their lives, and of my life with them continued. The cultural expectation was that I dealt with all of this on my own, privately. So I did, but I never really felt that my process of doing so was finished.
As many do when they first move to Mexico, I experienced the Day of the Dead as a fascinating Mexican ritual. Wasn't it wonderful how families in Mexico got together at this time of year? The practices that went with the event were curious and appeared to be fun - sugar skulls with your name on it; chocolate coffins, those skeleton puppets, the papier mache in so many colours and designs. Visiting the pantheons in the afternoon and evening and seeing all this festivity seemed so colourful and quaint - cleaning the grave sites, preparing the food and drink and laying out the personal items and decorations. Yet there was something there for them, for the participants, which I didn't have and somehow missed.
The next year, I decided to incorporate the rituals associated with the Day of the Dead into my life and home. I discovered that for me, the time leading up to November 1 became a very personal celebration of the life and relationship I had to each person that I was including on the altar I was preparing. As I went through the process of getting photographs out, searching in the tianguis for the right candy skulls and coffins, preparing their favorite foods and drink, I discovered in myself a deep satisfaction and connection with each person and my memory of them.

I began to really understand what the Day of the Dead was all about. It wasn't the rituals themselves that became meaningful, but rather the connection with each person that the ritual produced. I was not just mourning; I was celebrating who they were in my life and honouring their memory in ways that I had not felt were "OK" before. It is a practice that I look forward to each and every year.

Halloween is Scary

So, I'm posting this for October 31st, but I'm writing it on November 14th.
It's taken me 2 weeks to move past (past isn't the right word) Halloween.  For days leading up to Halloween I was in a bad way.  When it was time to make it happen, we did.

Mikey the Scarecrow

Me as a 70's throwback.

And Keith as "Darth Pumpkin" or "Count Pumpcula"

No photo of Lucy.  She was a hipster.  We didn't really understand what that was.  She wore a white button-down shirt, 3D glasses and a black headband.

The raw emotion of the day is gone.  I don't know if it's good that I waited 2 weeks or not--doesn't mean I didn't feel it, just that I buried it.

Now I can publish all the other posts that have been stuck in my brain for 2 weeks.



Bad Mood Morning

I took a walk during part of Sunday School today.  I wasn't in the mood to hear about Jesus healing all the lame, blind, deaf, sick and afflicted people.  I wasn't in the mood to listen to the comments that would follow.

But I came back.  I caught the second half.

When I came in they were still in 3rd Nephi 17.  They were talking about why Jesus stayed longer with the people after he was ready to go.  I say they probably begged for just 10 more minutes.  The scriptures say he had compassion on them.  They asked him to stay and so he did.  That's when he healed;  That's when he blessed the little children one by one.  Then he wept.

I can't even imagine the contrast of this experience for the Savior.  In Jerusalem, even his closest friends and disciples had not understood his mission; had betrayed him and were surprised when he did what he said he would do. 
These Nephites (the ones that were left)  were so humble and believing.  They were taking notice of his every action.  He was weeping because he was feeling acceptance.  His joy was full.
Wouldn't it be great to show this people the prints in his hands and  wound in his side and give them knowledge in exchange for their incredible faith?

The Name Game

Amos
Amos
Bo Bamos
Banana Fana
Fo Famous -or not so famous
Me My Mo Mamos
Amos

I'm stuck on something--which is a good thing.  I started reading the scriptures again this week--10 minutes, you know.  I started with 4th Nephi.  The page was folded down on my ragged leave-in-the-car scriptures, so I took that as a sign.

I found something fascinating--to me anyway.  There's an Amos in the Book of Mormon;  2 of them actually.
When I think of Amos, I think of the seminary scripture in the Old Testament about God revealing his secrets to his prophets.  I don't ever remember taking note of an Amos in the Book of Mormon.  How come?  Well, because they only get mentioned twice-once when they start writing and once when they die.

 19 And it came to pass that Nephi, he that kept this last record, (and he kept it upon the plates of Nephi) died, and his son Amos kept it in his stead; and he kept it upon the plates of Nephi also.

 20 And he kept it eighty and four years, and there was still peace in the land, save it were a small part of the people who had revolted from the church and taken upon them the name of Lamanites; therefore there began to be  Lamanites again in the land.

 21 And it came to pass that Amos died also, (and it was an hundred and ninety and four years from the coming of Christ). . .

What's interesting to me is how many years he (the first one) kept the record--84, and the significance of the time that it was.  Here's the context verses:

 17 There were no robbers, nor murderers, neither were there Lamanites, nor any manner of -ites; but they were in one, the children of Christ, and heirs to the kingdom of God.

 18 And how blessed were they! For the Lord did bless them in all their doings; yea, even they were blessed and prospered until an hundred and ten years had passed away; and the first generation from Christ had passed away, and there was no contention in all the land.

Those are the verses before.  He dies.  Then the 2nd Amos--his son, takes over.  This is all there is about him:

(still in verse 21) and his son Amos kept the record in his stead; and he also kept it upon the plates of Nephi; and it was also written in the book of Nephi, which is this book.

47 And it came to pass that after three hundred and five years had passed away, (and the people did still remain in wickedness) Amos died; and his brother, Ammaron, did keep the record in his stead.

He kept the record for 109 years.  109 years.  Not he lived to 109, but that he was actually recording all those years.  And in that time this is what happened to the people:

22 And it came to pass that two hundred years had passed away; and the second generation had all passed away save it were a few.

 23 And now I, Mormon, would that ye should know that the people had multiplied, insomuch that they were spread upon all the face of the land, and that they had become exceedingly rich, because of their prosperity in Christ.

 24 And now, in this two hundred and first year there began to be among them those who were lifted up in pride, such as the wearing of costly apparel, and all manner of fine pearls, and of the fine things of the world.

 25 And from that time forth they did have their goods and their substance no more common among them.

 26 And they began to be divided into classes; and they began to build up churches unto themselves to get gain, and began to deny the true church of Christ.

 27 And it came to pass that when two hundred and ten years had passed away there were many churches in the land; yea, there were many churches which professed to know the Christ, and yet they did deny the more parts of his gospel, insomuch that they did receive all manner of wickedness, and did administer that which was sacred unto him to whom it had been forbidden because of unworthiness.

 28 And this church did multiply exceedingly because of iniquity, and because of the power of Satan who did get hold upon their hearts.

 29 And again, there was another church which denied the Christ; and they did persecute the true church of Christ, because of their humility and their belief in Christ; and they did despise them because of the many miracles which were wrought among them.

 30 Therefore they did exercise power and authority over the disciples of Jesus who did tarry with them, and they did cast them into prison; but by the power of the word of God, which was in them, the prisons were rent in twain, and they went forth doing mighty miracles among them.

 31 Nevertheless, and notwithstanding all these miracles, the people did harden their hearts, and did seek to kill them, even as the Jews at Jerusalem sought to kill Jesus, according to his word.

 32 And they did cast them into furnaces of fire, and they came forth receiving no harm.

 33 And they also cast them into dens of wild beasts, and they did play with the wild beasts even as a child with a lamb; and they did come forth from among them, receiving no harm.

 34 Nevertheless, the people did harden their hearts, for they were led by many priests and false prophets to build up many churches, and to do all manner of iniquity. And they did smite upon the people of Jesus; but the people of Jesus did not smite again. And thus they did dwindle in unbelief and wickedness, from year to year, even until two hundred and thirty years had passed away.

 35 And now it came to pass in this year, yea, in the two hundred and thirty and first year, there was a great division among the people.

 36 And it came to pass that in this year there arose a people who were called the Nephites, and they were true believers in Christ; and among them there were those who were called by the Lamanites—Jacobites, and Josephites, and Zoramites;

 37 Therefore the true believers in Christ, and the true worshipers of Christ, (among whom were the three disciples of Jesus who should tarry) were called Nephites, and Jacobites, and Josephites, and Zoramites.

 38 And it came to pass that they who rejected the gospel were called Lamanites, and Lemuelites, and Ishmaelites; and they did not dwindle in unbelief, but they did wilfully rebel against the gospel of Christ; and they did teach their children that they should not believe, even as their fathers, from the beginning, did dwindle.

 39 And it was because of the wickedness and abomination of their fathers, even as it was in the beginning. And they were taught to hate the children of God, even as the Lamanites were taught to hate the children of Nephi from the beginning.

 40 And it came to pass that two hundred and forty and four years had passed away, and thus were the affairs of the people. And the more wicked part of the people did wax strong, and became exceedingly more numerous than were the people of God.

 41 And they did still continue to build up churches unto themselves, and adorn them with all manner of precious things. And thus did two hundred and fifty years pass away, and also two hundred and sixty years.

 42 And it came to pass that the wicked part of the people began again to build up the secret oaths and combinations of Gadianton.

 43 And also the people who were called the people of Nephi began to be proud in their hearts, because of their exceeding riches, and become vain like unto their brethren, the Lamanites.

 44 And from this time the disciples began to sorrow for the sins of the world.

 45 And it came to pass that when three hundred years had passed away, both the people of Nephi and the Lamanites had become exceedingly wicked one like unto another.

 46 And it came to pass that the robbers of Gadianton did spread over all the face of the land; and there were none that were righteous save it were the disciples of Jesus. And gold and silver did they lay up in store in abundance, and did traffic in all manner of traffic.

I know, that's a lot of verses, they're written by Mormon.  He abridged the whole nearly 200 years this father and son wrote.  The whole Book of Mormon is a 1000 year history.  I remember saying that every day in Hong Kong.  1000 years and they wrote 1/5 of it and I didn't even catch that they were in there.  They only account for 2 or 3 verses between Nephi and Ammaron--who told Mormon he was a sober child.  I think about the details of those 200 years and that we get it all in 20 or so abridged verses.

Can you imagine spending your whole life writing things down for God and then being edited out of the book?  I know--I'm way into rewards and fairness and "credit where credit is due."  I think I want to meet the 2 Amos' and thank them for giving Mormon such good material to pare down.  I want to ask them what it was like to witness the entire downfall of their civilization.  I want people to know about them.  I bet they spent more time than any other person on this sacred text.  I'd like to hear about their families and their conversions.

Write me a comment and tell me you always knew about them so I can feel like a dummie.

Personal Mt. Rushmore

I really want to to see Mt. Rushmore.  I think I've said it on this blog before.  I call it "the heads."  I love nature and historical sights.  It seems like a great blend of both.  It's not commercial--at least in my head where I envision big birds of prey soaring overhead and a waterfall coming off the backside.  Who knows?
Someday we'll go and I'll check it off the list.

For now,  I'm going to write about a reference made to it.  We had stake conference this past weekend and as always, President Pond was the highlight.  I spent family home evening retelling his talk to the kids because he only spoke in the adult session,  Here's how it goes:

He started with the song More Holiness Give Me and how we all need to become "more Savior like thee."
Then he told about taking swimming lessons as a kid.  Sounded like he loved them.  When his mom came to pick him up he always asked for 10 more minutes.  In that time he would show her all the great stuff  he had learned and practice all the skills.  He said that 10 extra minutes really made a difference in how good he got.  Then he told about his mean piano teacher and how he hated taking piano lessons.  He said he was supposed to practice 30 minutes every day, but that 5 minutes was about his limit.  His mom would come in and ask him to give it 10 more minutes and he would sit there for 10 more, but really fritter them away just goofing around.

He said how it would make such a difference if we all spent 10 more minutes a day with our personal worship.  In prayer or reading the scriptures or pondering.  He said we could become more like the Savior if we devoted just 10 more minutes everyday.

Then he talked about his father-in-law, who he said was on his "personal Mt Rushmore."--Nice reference huh?  He talked about how hard he worked and what a great man he was.  He had a dairy farm and physically worked so hard that he fell asleep during dinner every night.  He said eating at his in-laws was great because she was such a good cook and he served cereal-bowl servings of ice cream every night.  It was a dairy, after all.  He tried to refuse, but his father-in-law always said,  "There's always room for ice cream.  It slides down in the cracks and fills in all the empty spaces."

Then he went on to say that we need to treat the gospel like the ice cream.  There's always room for it.  It can fill in all the cracks and empty spaces and we need to give it 10 more minutes every day.  We'll be amazed at how much more we will learn and how much more we will love it and how much more we will become like the Savior.

We talked about our personal Mt Rushmores in Family Home Evening too.  Keith said he would include both our dads and his bishop when he was a teenager.  Mikey said Ian.  I said Mae Wright and maybe Grandma Rich.  Lucy did the usual and stayed quiet.

It's something to think about.  Who do I admire enough to carve on a figurative mountain?

Disneyland Top Five

5.  Great Mexican Food in Frontierland that wasn't any more expensive than anywhere else.

4.  Riding the Matterhorn at 8 am with no line.

3.  Getting Mikey's camera back after leaving it on Thunder Mountain.

2.  A family who was willing to share their fast pass for 12 with us and taking us on the last 2 rides we would  have missed without them.

1.  Not crying the whole day.  Thinking of Ian's reaction to things;  feeling his absence, but not crying.

There's also a bottom Five
 

5.  Haunted Mansion decorated for the nightmare before Christmas.

4.  Sleeping Beauty's Castle doesn't hold a candle to Cinderella's in Florida.

3.  The kids are too old/too young to love "It's a Small World."

2.  There are only discounts on tickets for more than one day.

1.  Captain EO--yes, we sat through it.  We were waiting for our fast pass time for Space Mountain.  There's 20 minutes of our lives we can never get back.  We could just see Ian laughing and pulling faces and being loud enough we'd have to shsh him.

General Conference

 

I guess I've waited long enough to make my post about general conference.  It's sad really.  Maybe I thought I would be inspired later--that one of the talks would stick and I would think about it over the next few days or weeks.  But no.

I have to blame myself.  They say if you don't get anything from a talk, that you aren't prepared spiritually.  That must have been me.  Nothing stuck.  I listened--to 4 sessions.  I wanted to love it.  Yeah, nothin'.

The announcement about the missionaries was cool.  I think there will be more problems between elders and sisters now, but whatever.  I was surprised by a blog I read that lamented that it wasn't that way when she was 19, said she was a little jealous.  I had a student at the institute tell me the next day that he had started his papers--he won't be 18 until next month.  He was so excited.  My thought was how will the mothers be able to let go a whole year earlier.  Mikey said,  "Dang, one less year to save!"

Conference is over.  We had traditional conference breakfast and hung out together.  It was peaceful.  But not too lingering this time.

Hide-and-Seek vs. Sardines

I was going through old files in the institute, trying to decide what to keep.  I've come across some really interesting things that way.  Like seminary grades from the 80's and canceled checks from the 70's.  This story struck me.  I have a friend that I'm going to email it to.  I want her to stop making it so hard for people to find her--spiritually.  It's such a great story.  It made me remember the huge piles of leaves in our front yard in New Hampshire and how someone could totally hide in them and never be found.  I miss those leaves;  and those friends.

In the early dry dark of an October's Saturday evening, the neighborhood children are playing hide-and-seek. How long since I played hide-and-seek? Thirty years; maybe more. I remember how. I could become part of the game in a moment, if invited. Adults don't play hide-and-seek. Not for fun, anyway. Too bad.

Did you have a kid in your neighborhood who always hid so good, nobody could find him? We did. After a while we would give up on him and go off, leaving him to rot wherever he was. Sooner or later he would show up, all mad because we didn't keep looking for him. And we would get mad back because he wasn't playing the game the way it was supposed to be played. There's hiding and there's finding, we'd say. And he'd say it was hide-and-seek, not hide-and-give-UP, and we'd all yell about who made the rules and who cared about who, anyway, and how we wouldn't play with him anymore if he didn't get it straight and who needed him anyhow, and things like that. Hide-and-seek-and-yell. No matter what, though, the next time he would hide too good again. He's probably still hidden somewhere, for all I know.

As I write this, the neighborhood game goes on, and there is a kid under a pile of leaves in the yard just under my window. He has been there a long time now, and everybody else is found and they are about to give up on him over at the base. I considered going out to the base and telling them where he is hiding. And I thought about setting the leaves on fire to drive him out. Finally, I just yelled, "GET FOUND, KID!" out the window. And scared him so bad he probably wet his pants and started crying and ran home to tell his mother. It's real hard to know how to be helpful sometimes.

A man I know found out last year he had terminal cancer. He was a doctor. And knew about dying, and he didn't want to make his family and friends suffer through that with him. So he kept his secret. And died. Everybody said how brave he was to bear his suffering in silence and not tell everybody, and so on and so forth. But privately his family and friends said how angry they were that he didn't need them, didn't trust their strength. And it hurt that he didn't say good-bye.

He hid too well. Getting found would have kept him in the game. Hide-and-seek, grown-up style. Wanting to hide. Needing to be sought. Confused about being found. "I don't want anyone to know." "What will people think?" "I don't want to bother anyone."

Better than hide-and-seek, I like the game called Sardines. In Sardines the person who is It goes and hides, and everybody goes looking for him. When you find him, you get in with him and hide there with him. Pretty soon everybody is hiding together, all stacked in a small space like puppies in a pile. And pretty soon somebody giggles and somebody laughs and everybody gets found.

Medieval theologians even described God in hide-and-seek terms, calling him Deus Absconditus. But me, I think old God is a Sardine player. And will be found the same way everybody gets found in Sardines - by the sound of laughter of those heaped together at the end.

"Olly-olly-oxen-free." The kids out in the street are hollering the cry that says "Come on in, wherever you are. It's a new game." And so say I. To all those who have hid too good. Get found, kid! Olly-olly-oxen-free.

- Robert Fulghum, "All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten"

There are several conclusions that can be drawn from this story.  Is it better to have fun or to win?  Are you winning, if you are alone?  Have you set it up so the others will eventually tire of looking for you?  Was it on purpose?  I don't know,  just some thoughts.

Happy in the Temple

I didn't get to go through the temple with Ian.  I don't get to in the future.  Keith and I went for Ian.  While it was a special day, it wasn't a happy day. 

This past week we had a happy day in the temple.  We didn't expect it to be happy.  We went with Ian's friend Taylor.  We saw him beaming and his parents beaming.  We saw their excitement as he came into the celestial room.

Keith told me he could picture Ian doing his jumping up and down dance.  That "I'm so excited, I just can't contain myself" dance.  He would be that excited for Taylor.  He is that excited for Taylor.  All I could think was that maybe Ian could be one of the angels round about Taylor to bear him up like the scripture in Doctrine and Covenants 84:88.

I miss Ian.  I'm happy for Taylor.

Intrigued

 

Matthew 7
How many times have I referenced and written something from that chapter?  What a great bunch of verses.  How much of the gospel can be crammed into one chapter?  It's got "Judge Not;"  "Beam in the Eye;"  "Pearls before Swine;" "Ask, Seek Knock"(one of my personal faves).  It's got the "Strait Gate;" "Know Them by their Fruits"; and "The Wise Man and the Foolish Man."

Today it's got this:

21Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.
22Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?
23And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.

I overheard part of an institute class again this past week and wanted to write about it, but I wanted to look at the Joseph Smith Translation first.  There's a footnote with a JST for verse 21.  It reads:  "For the day soon cometh, that men shall come before me to judgment, to be judged according to their works."  What isn't in the footnote is a JST for verse 23. 

What I heard in the class is, that there is one. 
It just isn't in there. 
I was intrigued. 
Alot.  (Yes, I know that's supposed to be 2 seperate words.)

I didn't hear where I could find it and there wasn't really a time this week to ask.  Keith found it for me last night.  In our library, we have a copy of Holy Scriptures Inspired Version  published by the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  It's the whole Joseph Smith Translation.  Old and New Testament.  There's an explanation in the front about how the manuscripts were left in Emma's possession and that it was published as a gift to our church and the world.  Interesting.  I don't think I've ever looked at it before.  Anyway. . .

The translation of verse 23 is so interesting to me.  It says: 

"And then will I say,  Ye never knew me; depart from me ye that work iniquity."

To me that is such a significant meaning change. 
I wonder why it "didn't make the cut"--as the institute instructor said. 
Me, not knowing the Savior is vastly different than Him not knowing me. 
Vastly different.
 
If there is ever distance or lack of remembrance or misunderstanding between me and the Savior, it's always on my part.  In fact, this verse kind of explains all the others that it follows.  For example, If I don't learn not to judge, I never knew Him.  If I don't seek Him then I don't want to know Him.  If I don't bring forth good fruit and show Him that I know Him, then I must not know Him.

Sign Seeking

 If the lead story on the news tonight was about atmospheric conditions changing due to global warning and a forecast of a day with longer sunlight hours, would I think twice about it?  If they said that their computers models show a sunspot heading toward us that might give us a night or two like Alaska, would I recognize the symbol of the second coming of Jesus Christ?  If that was forecast, would the prophet let us all know that it was THE sign not just a freak weather phenomenon? 

It worries me a little that these days we have a scientific answer for everything.  We explain everything in advance.  There are press conferences to tell us that someone is going to announce something.  With the technology we have, are we better off than the Nephites, or just more callous to the signs of our time?

I was reading the first couple chapters of 3rd Nephi the other day and some things jumped out at me.  

 8 . . . they did watch steadfastly for that day and that night and that day which should be as one day as if there were no night, that they might know that their faith had not been vain. 

Am I steadfastly watching for the signs now?  Do I go outside every night hoping that it won't get dark so that I know my faith isn't in vain?  Maybe I should.  Maybe I should be that excited and diligent. 

9 Now it came to pass that there was a day set apart by the unbelievers, that all those who believed in those traditions should be put to death except the sign should come to pass, which had been given by Samuel the prophet.

 

Is it going to get down to the very last night this time--when all those who believe will be put to death if they don't deny?  With the spread of anti-Christian belief all around the world, I'm beginning to wonder. 

 10 Now it came to pass that when Nephi, the son of Nephi, saw this wickedness of his people, his heart was exceedingly sorrowful.

 11 And it came to pass that he went out and bowed himself down upon the earth, and cried mightily to his God in behalf of his people, yea, those who were about to be destroyed because of their faith in the tradition of their fathers.

It sounds  pretty dire when a prophet is praying that his people won't be killed because of their faith, but he got the answer: 

 14 . . . And behold, the time is at hand, and this night shall the sign be given.

 15 And it came to pass that the words which came unto Nephi were fulfilled, according as they had been spoken; for behold, at the going down of the sun there was no darkness; and the people began to be astonished because there was no darkness when the night came.

17 And they began to know that the Son of God must shortly appear; yea, in fine, all the people upon the face of the whole earth from the west to the east, both in the land north and in the land south, were so exceedingly astonished that they fell to the earth.

 18 For they knew that the prophets had testified of these things for many years, and that the sign which had been given was already at hand; and they began to fear because of their iniquity and their unbelief.

 19 And it came to pass that there was no darkness in all that night, but it was as light as though it was mid-day. And it came to pass that the sun did rise in the morning again, according to its proper order; and they knew that it was the day that the Lord should be born, because of the sign which had been given.

Today, in our modern world, would we see the sign?    Would we be "greatly astonished?"   

 21 And it came to pass also that a new star did appear, according to the word.

 22 And it came to pass that from this time forth there began to be lyings sent forth among the people, by Satan, to harden their hearts, to the intent that they might not believe in those signs and wonders which they had seen; but notwithstanding these lyings and deceivings the more part of the people did believe, and were converted unto the Lord.

Would we just hear on the news that a planet had fallen from it's normal orbitnew spot or that the Hubble Telescope view shows that 2 stars collided and melded together?  Satan's deceptions have gotten much more sophisticated in the last few centuries.  At least that's how I see it. 

Taylor

Ian's buddy got a mission call last week.  I say a mission call, not his mission call because his mission call will hopefully come in January or so.  He's a heart kid.  They want to see if he can handle the rigor of missionary life before they present  him with a 2 year commitment.  It's too bad, but I'm really glad they didn't just tell him no.

He'll be serving in the Fresno Mission for 12 weeks beginning on Halloween--good day for anything.  He won't go to the MTC because he can't do the higher altitude of Utah.  His call will need to be semi-local because his doctors said he could only go if he didn't miss his annual appointments.  He doesn't know yet whether he'll be able to go to the temple before he starts.  In situations like this, elders don't usually, but if he doesn't,  his father will be in Afghanistan and unable to go to the temple with him.  They are waiting for special permission from Salt Lake.

My point in recording this story is that sometimes it's really hard to do the right thing.  This boy has wanted to serve a mission his whole life.  Everything about the whole process has been complicated.  It would be so easy for him to say, "Nevermind, I have a health condition.  I'm off the hook."  He's not doing that.  He's dedicated.  He's determined.  No wonder he and Ian were friends!

I sure hope he gets a happy ending for his mission--and his life.

Whose Mom?

There's a student that comes into the institute almost every day.  He's so polite and I've gotten used to him being there.  The other day he showed me a funny YouTube video.  Yesterday, he came in to ask me a few questions about the upcoming luau and sat down for a  minute.

We were talking about him attending a mission prep class and I asked when he was planning on going on his mission.  He said,  "Oh, I won't even be 18 until November."  I said,  "You're my son, Ian's age.  He would've turned 18 last month."

To my surprise, he said,  "You're Ian's Mom?  I knew Ian.  I was at scout camp when he got the "Cool Dude" award."

It's been a while since anyone referenced me as Ian's mom.  I used to get it at school, stake activities, and just, all over town.  It's a title I love.  It felt really good to hear it again.

Book Club, Sweet Book Club

I finished my book club book today.   Since I can't say what I think at book club,  I think I'll use this private forum of mine.

What a stupid, stupid choice.  Let me back up.  I went to 2 branches of the library to find it.  When I looked on the computer, I found that no library in the county had it.  That should have been my first clue.  I finally accepted that I would have to spend money on a book that I didn't know whether I would like and went to Barnes and Noble.  I asked for it and they thought it was a recipe book and said they didn't have it.  I told them it was fiction and the author's name, only to find out it was in the children's section--not even young adult or teen but the actual children's section.

I got the paperback, so at least it didn't cost me $16, but it wasn't worth the $6.  Here's the title, are you ready:  The Candymakers.  It's about children who win a contest and get to tour a candy factory.  Sound familiar?  There are four 12 years olds, 3 boys and a girl.  They all have their own issues and quirks.  My favorite one was the 12 year old boy who is trying to deal with death.  His phobias and coping mechanisms were especially entertaining to me--can you hear the sarcasm?  It's my book club.  Did it even dawn on the person who chose this (who, yes, had already read it)  that I was living with this in reality?    I could make a list of real-life, in my home, osbtacles that my 12 year old faces every day.

Of course, in the end, it turned out the person who died wasn't really dead and there was a happy ending.  That infuriated me even further.  But what should I expect from a child's book right?

The writing was okay I suppose--for 12 year olds.  Predictable--maybe not for preteens.  There were spies,  bullies,  fantasy contests and oh yeah,  caffeine as a villain. 

How could I possibly hate it?

No Title

The last few days I've had a flare-up of regret and guilt.  It's no secret that I wish I had been different, done different; and said different things as a mother.  It came to me the other night though, that I have one thing that I said/did that I don't regret.

I told Ian to go.  As the doctors were frantic and the chaos was ensuing in his room, Keith was blessing him and I told him to go.  In fact,  I think I said, "Run."

I'm not sorry I said that.  I'm not regretful that I didn't want him to keep suffering.  I'm not sorry that I didn't beg him to stay. 

I ache for him to be here and I blame myself for pushing him too hard.and being frustrated with his teenage angst.  I blame myself for not understanding how bad things were and not taking  him to the hospital earlier.   I regret a lot of things.

BUT,  I never rethink telling him to go.

"A Parently"

Today's post is totally not my words.
I didn't want to link, but I do want to give credit  to the actual writer.
His name is Scott McCown and his blog is called The Morning Drive.
I think this is very clever.

Apparently, some parents are not parenting.
Apparently, some think parenting is the same as having offspring.
Apparently, some parents want to be their child’s best friend and not their guide.
Apparently, some children have never heard the word, “no” and consequently rule the home.
Apparently, some children receive little if any training in the discipline of life.
Apparently, we are not teaching parents that education begins and continues at home.
Apparently, we are not teaching families that religion begins at home.
Apparently, according to someone I talked with recently, my way of thinking is both old fashioned, yet radical.
Apparently, I misunderstand Deuteronomy 6:4-9, Joshua 24:15, and Proverbs 29:15.
Apparently – a parently – so.
-Scott

Isn't that clever?

High Tide

The waves of grief were back to slap me today.  I'm not even sure what caused it.
Nothing, I don't need a reason. 
All the old feelings of guilt were drowning me. 
Here's the list:

Why did I leave Ian home on that mattress and go blueberry picking?
Why didn't I tell Keith he couldn't go to Oregon, that I needed him to meet us at the hospital days before we actually went?
Why didn't I yell and scream and insist that they do every test  possible?
Why didn't I figure out why I was an emotional basket case for weeks?
Why?
Why?
Why?

Mikey's a lot shorter than me.  Waves cover him easier.  He's been under-water for a couple of months.  What can I do?
Why now?

Just Questions.
No Resolution.
No Insight.

My Girl



I Love Lucy

 Best Costume Prize for a 50s Sweet 16 party. 
Not a retro dress, but great-grandma's actual dress, scarf and pearls.  Go Lucy.

Introductions

I went to a meeting  for the seminary teachers last weekend.  It was an opportunity to meet all the people I'll be working with.  The director asked me to introduce myself.  I just said my name, no details.  I can't really give more of an introduction than that.  I don't want to tell anyone about my life, my family.  I don't want to answer any questions.  I don't want to show any emotion.

It's the third or fourth time this has happened.  I finally understand it.  It doesn't change anything,  I'll probably do exactly the same thing next time, and the next.

small, Medium, LARGE

"Hi, my name is Teresa and I'm a psychic medium."

Yeah, I caught the fever.  I watched the marathon catch-up of Long Island Medium.  I've always liked psychics.  I always watched John Edward when I could find him.  It intrigues me.  I think that it could be possible for someone to have that gift to sense spirits, maybe even communicate with them.  After all, we are taught by Brigham Young that the spirit world is here around us.

I even like the idea that somebody could bring me a message from Ian, Duh.

But,  the new episode that aired this week crossed the line--my line.  She sat down with a couple of women; a mother and her adult daughter.  They had lost someone close to them and she had something very interesting to tell them.  She said it was a rare occurrence but their loved one--the other daughter, had come back in the body of the granddaughter.  Whoa!  Whoa!

Spirits.  Connection.  Communication.  Love lasting forever.  Yep.

Reincarnation.  No.

The Wise Man

I sat in on (out, in my office) my first institute class.  It was a New Testament class.  They were talking about the wise man and the foolish man.  The teacher asked what the difference between them was.  He got a lot of different answers  I couldn't hear them all.  There were noisy kids in the lobby--it's an adult-friendly class.  Then he read the verse.

Matthew 7:24-27

Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock:

I heard it in a new way.  I thought about it all day. 

You're wise if you're obedient.  If you do more than just hear.  If you listen and actually do something.  That's what makes you wise.  It's like the parable of the ten virgins.  It's not about who knows or believes;  it's about who acts.

 ²⁵ And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock.

²⁶ And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand:
²⁷ And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it.

I also thought about the fact that whether you're wise or foolish, the winds still pound you.  Being wise/obedient doesn't prevent the storm, it just gives  you refuge during the hard time.

Keep the Sabbath Day Holy

Can anyone ever keep the Sabbath day too holy?

I'm a long way from that.
I really tried today.
It felt good.
I need to focus on it for a while.
There's a lot more to it than what I shouldn't do.

Start to Finish

Wow, today was a remarkably bad day.  In fact, I guess it started last night.  We went to a wedding reception.  It was for a young man we care for.  We are happy for him and glad he's heading in the right direction in life. 

I want that for Ian.  I'm painfully aware that I don't get to have a wedding reception for my son.  No tuxedo, no cake, no pretty girl.  It sucks.  To make things worse, one of Ian's pretty girls was there and she came and sat down right next to me.  I hate seeing her.  It hurts.  She's getting her patriarchal blessing and talking about how old she'll be when she has her big wedding day.  I can't stand it.

Then, this morning, I had to get up early for a faculty meeting at the institute.  On the way there I thought about how I should've been strong enough to do the heart walk this year.  It was today.  I had to drive right past the campus to get where I was going.  I hope Ian doesn't care that I couldn't do it.  I just couldn't.  It's not going to bring him back;  it's not going to help him;  it doesn't get me any 'strongest mother of the year' award--so why bother?  When I thought about the shirts a month or two ago, all I could think of was  "Ian's Team--He's gone and walking won't bring him back."  So we decided not to do it.  Then,  when I actually got to UOP, there weren't balloons, no signs, no crowd that I could see and that made me even sadder.

After my meeting, I had some errands to run.  I turned on the radio so I wouldn't feel so alone in the car.  The Bee Gees came on singing "Stayin' Alive."  I sang for 5 seconds or so and then thought about how it's the CPR song and then in my head I saw the doctors gathered around my son doing CPR, unable to save him.  I quickly changed the channel to spare myself the agony, but the next station was Queen,  "We are the Champions."  One of Ian's faves.  Second bawling for the day. 

There was a baptism after that.  The intermediate songs were "I am a Child of God," which Keith can't sing  (that's his story to tell, not mine) and  Families Can be Together Forever, which I still feel like is a form of brainwashing.  No family gets to remain intact forever--because forever includes now!!!  Then the closing song was "Army of Helaman."  It made me cry right for the third time today--right there in the meeting.  Nobody wanted to be a missionary more than my Ian.  He listened and learned and obeyed as well as any member of Helaman's Army.  God didn't spare him.  I think it would be just as good a story if 2 or 3 of them had perished.  Would it mean they had less faith if God took them--if their time on earth was over?  Would their mothers have been less effective teachers if they had died?  The story gives the false impression that we have some control over when our time is up and if we just trust enough, we can make it through anything.  Bah!

No the day's not over at this point, but I was past the point of no return.  I cried while Lucy got a haircut.  I cried on the way home and then I shut myself in my room and did crossword puzzles.  My family got no dinner and I had to really psych myself up to go to a HP social.  I sat by myself and felt pretty mellow.  When we got home I gave in to the day.  I surrendered.  I put on Parent Trap--one of Ian's "I don't feel good movies" and cried some more.  Nothing like a little Lindsey Lohan to help me wallow in what could have been and finish off a perfectly horrible day.

Good Read

I've read some really good books over the past few months.  Some not so good ones too.  I finished one today.  It's called Have a Little Faith by Mitch Albom.  I got it because I read The Five People You Meet in Heaven and loved it and Tuesdays with Morrie was so good.  He's an engaging writer, I think, because of the subject matter he chooses both with fiction and nonfiction.

Have a Little Faith is nonfiction like Tuesdays.  It's about his Rabbi who asks him to do the eulogy at his funeral.  I folded down several pages because I thought some of the thoughts were profound.  I'm going to share a few.

The first describes one of the rabbi's sermons where he brought a squash and a piece of wood as visual aids to the pulpit.  He stabs each with a knife and then talks about how things that grow quickly are more easily destroyed than things that grow over time.  That's all it says.  The author goes on with other things, but that's a real thought provoker to me.  Faith, trust, commitment, love are all things that grow like a tree and don't really produce wood for a really long time.  Whereas the squash plant sprouts in a few days and blossoms in a few weeks and has so much squash you hardly know what to do with it--but only for a very short period of time.  (Unless you are me and then you can't even get zucchini to grow.)  Anyway,  I think that's a really good lesson.  One of those Our time vs. God's time things.  One of those life is but a small moment things.

Here's another tidbit.  "Faith is about doing.  You are how you act, not just how you believe."  For a Jewish rabbi, that's about as close to a New Testament quoting of "faith without works is dead " as you can get.  Again it made me pause for a minute and fold the page.

The next one I'm going to include the whole thing:

It is 1974 and I am in my religious high school.  The subject is the parting of the Red Sea.  I yawn.  What is left to learn about this?  I've heard it a million times.  I look across the room to a girl I like and contemplate how hard it would be to get her attention.  "There is a Talmudic commentary here,"  the teacher says.  Oh, great, I figure.  This means translation, which is slow and painful.  But as the story unfolds, I begin to pay attention.  After the Israelites safely crossed the Red Sea, the Egyptians chased after them and were drowned.  God's angels wanted to celebrate the enemy's demise.  According to the commentary,  God saw this and grew angry.  He said,  in essence:  "Stop celebrating. For those were my children too."  "What do you think of that?"  the teacher asks us.  Someone else answers.  But I know what I think.  I think it is the first time I've heard that God might love the "enemy" as well as us.  Years later, I will forget the class, forget the teacher's name, forget the girl across the room.  But I will remember that story.

I've never heard this--why would I have?  It's in a Talmudic commentary.  But when I see the Ten Commandments movie or read bits of it in accounts by later prophets talking about the miracle,  there's always a bit of cheering in my mind when the Egyptians get covered by the water.  I'd never thought about how it wouldn't be all joyful for God to see that many of his children destroyed no matter the circumstance.

I don't know how much I want to write but at least one more. 
The rabbi talks about when babies are born their fists are clenched because they want to grab everything in this world and hold onto it.  But when we die, are hands are open because we know we can't take anything with us. 
I don't have a lot to say about that except I like it.

This is the last one.  It's a Buddhist parable.

A farmer wakes up to find that his horse has run off.  The neighbors come by and say,  "Too bad.  Such awful luck."  The farmer says,  "Maybe."  The next day the horse returns with a few other horses.  The neighbors congratulate the farmer on his reversal of fortune.  "Maybe,"  the farmer says.  When his son tries to ride one of the new horses, he breaks his leg, and the neighbors offer condolences.  "Maybe," the farmer says.  And the next day, when army officials come to draft the son--and don't take him because of his broken leg--everyone is happy.  "Maybe,"  the farmer says.

Isn't that just like life.  We can never be sure which things are best for us and which things are just brought on by our own stupid ways.  At least I can't.

It was a good book.  I highly recommend it.

Little Pieces

We bought this orange sofa today.
Lucy started taping Animal Cops.
Mikey got out plaid shorts and tie-dye shirts to wear.

It would be so great if all the little pieces of Ian that we try to have around the house would add up to a whole Ian around the house.

Pow! Pow-pow

I heard a great thought today. 
Just a little thing I jotted down at church and want to remember.

"Contention isn't like a gun.  You can't point it just at one person. 
It fills a whole room and affects all there." 

Isn't that great. 
Sometimes I'm contentious and I see how it affects Mikey even if he has nothing to do with what I'm upset about.    I hope I can remember this little tiny quote.

Haiku

Famous

Openly Willing
Young Obedient Quick Strong
Sons of Helaman

Obscure

Self-Sacrificing
Sure Brave Experienced Wise
Antipus' Army

Bountiful Baskets of My Own

Well, we had enough peaches this year to make me glad they only come on for a few weeks.  I canned 35 quarts and several pies and cobblers.  There's one bowl of stragglers in the fridge.  I hope I have the ambition to do something with them before they are mush.

Apples, plums and lemons too.  Our green plums are just  peeking through in the back bowl.  I like having friends with trees too.  That way we can have lots of different beautiful fruit to choose from.   I think I might start shipping fruit out of town.  I've given lemons to everyone here already and more drop on the ground every day.  The pomegranates aren't ready until Halloween, so unless we hit the farmer's market, I might be done for a while.

Whew!

Well,  the last month has really kicked my butt--I mean really kicked my butt.  Some things have been great while others have been whatever the opposite of great is. 

I feel kind of bad neglecting this for so long.  In a way, I've been hiding again.  Not acknowledging.  Not accepting.  Letting myself get so involved in any given thing to be distracted.  Sitting here at the computer forces me to slow down; to think; and most accurately, to feel.

First, the good stuff:

1.  I got to take Lucy to EFY in Utah.  It was a great 10 hours with her in the car both ways (and Jill and Courtney). 

Better even than that was the days I got to spend alone with my parents.  I feel spoiled to be able to still have both my parents and the opportunity to have them all to myself for an extended  period of time.  The hike with my dad and the jigsaw puzzle with my mom were outstanding.

 I had planned to see a couple of friends too, but I didn't have my own car and I just decided it was better not to try and make plans.  It was so relaxing and I found it semi-relieving to miss my whole family all at once and not be able to focus solely on Ian.

2.  We got a new van.  It's fancy enough that we could say goodbye to the Montana--though not without some tears.  It's the only car Mikey can ever remember going on family adventures in.  Also, I think it was one more way we were getting rid of Ian memories.  But the new van is great.  It's a Chrysler Town and Country and it's white.  It has navigation, leather seats and warmers, a sun-roof, and a 6 DVD changer.  Hopefully we will get the headphones and remote soon.

Cool Instrument Panel Huh?

3.  I got a job.  Actually, I got 2.  The one I took is 20 hours a week;  totally flexible hours and in a great environment.  It's not minimum wage.  I'm the new support specialist for the Stockton Seminary/Institute.  A great portion of the time I will be there by myself.  There's so much to learn.  Actually, I can't believe how much there is to learn.  I'll have something new in my life.  Keith says it will do wonders for my confidence.  It probably will.

4.  We refinanced our house--cut time of the loan, lowered the payment and the interest rate.  Pretty good.

5.  Keith had some days off.  We went to Mystery Spot.  It was strange--so strange.  I actually got sick to my stomach.  I think it's a magnetic force field under the ground.  Way cool. 

We went to Santa Cruz and did the boardwalk and to Capitola to "Pizza My Heart."    We found it through the GPS which was super fun.  Lucy had wanted to go there and get a T-shirt for a while.  The next day we went to Lake Tahoe.  I had never been there.  It was beautiful. 

What a gorgeous day. 

I really took this photo--it's not a stock!

6.  Mom and Dad came out and stayed a week with us and spent Ian's birthday here.  It was different than any other of there visits because I was working part of every day.  One day we went good ol' San Francisco.  We even ate at the Cliff House. 

This one's from the internet.  We were too early for a sunset.

There's the good things.  That's quite a few right?  I have things to be thankful for.  Now for the not-so-good.  There aren't any photos to go with these.

1.  My son has been gone for 2 years.  He should be able to come home from his mission now.  He should have great stories to tell me about how his testimony has grown and how he realizes now  how much I love him.  He's not coming.  That sucks.

2.  We have a new car and Ian isn't here driving it.  I can't hover over him and tell him to be careful with it. 

3.  I woke up early on August 19th and baked a birthday cake and my baby wasn't here to blow out the candles.  It's pretty weird to pick out flowers for an 18 year old boy's birthday present.

4.  I did fairly good in July holding everything together, knowing that August was coming.  I was tough and strong and stoic for the most part.  Then, after my parents left, I was watching one of the TV shows I had DVR'd while they were here.  All alone, I found myself sobbing over a pretend TV character who had died.  Sobbing.  Yeah, that's the way it is.

5.  My new job--well my new boss and I have something in common.  He lost his 15 year old son too.  Who knows, maybe he knew why I needed to get out of the house.  Maybe he recognized something.  In the car, on the way home the first day,  I said out loud to myself,  "Ian, I'm not moving on without you.  I'm moving on with you.  Please be here with me."

 The fun things we did while Keith was off--they were great, but. . . I ordered coconut cream pie at Marie Calendars because it was Ian's favorite.  I stopped and looked at the garlic fries booth in Santa Cruz and sighed because they were something Ian loved.  I thought as we climbed the hill to Mystery Spot that Ian wouldn't be able to climb it and if he could, it would have really made him ill.

So there were a lot of great things in the month that I didn't write, but life has a way of balancing things out doesn't it?