Daylight Slayings Time

GUEST BLOGGER: LINN

Linn is a mother to four and wife to one. She has a BA in Elementary Education, but has been known to take money, on occasion, from people who hire her as an organizational consultant. She loves teaching organization seminars, reading, running, blogging, photography and organizing anything and anyone who will let her. But mostly, she just enjoys being a mom to four children who have not yet realized she still has no idea what in the world she is doing.


With the end of Daylight Savings just two weeks ago, I am already feeling the dread of what will happen this coming March. In honor of that constant dread, I share with you a letter I wrote this past spring; having received no reply the first time, I plan to send it again this next year...


Dear Daylight Savings Creator,

How do I say this respectfully? Have you lost your ever livin' mind? In all of my thirty-two long years of life, I have never been a fan of Daylight Savings. But just when I think something is sufficiently terrible, you go and pull a little thing like moving up the date that Daylight Savings starts and moving back the date when it ends. Do you understand how many of us feel deep irritation toward you right now? Does it even matter to you? I'm not sure it does.

I have this weird feeling that you have moved to some remote island in the ocean where time means nothing to you. I bet you don't even own a clock. But that you do own large flatscreen where you watch the rest of us walk around in our completely sleep-deprived state trying to go to work. Or tend our children. Or worse, waking up our entire family at what was 5am the day before to get to early church meetings. You must be having the time of your life. You and your clock-less little life.

And just so you know, the rebellious part of my soul is about seven seconds away from changing my clocks back to what time it should be and dealing with the ramifications. Having my husband late for work, my children late for school and the entire family late for church doesn't seem like such a bad idea...as long as I am late and rested. Do you know how many people read my blog? Tens of people everyday. It's true. (And don't even try to pretend you are not impressed.) I feel confident I could convince three or more to follow me. Take that I say.

In conclusion, you are killing me. You really are. And I thought moving from San Diego to Boston was bad. That was a little picnic in the park compared to your ridiculous let's-have-Daylight-Savings-for-nine-months-of-the-year idea. Not good. Not good at all. And if I were not so utterly tired to the bone, I would continue this little rant. Lucky for you, oh wait, because of you, I'm too bushed to continue. Just know I'm on to you. Yes indeed. You might want to watch your little watchless self.

With exhaustion and weariness,
Linn

PS. Now that I think about it, I am betting money you are also the creator of the Snuggie. I mean really. A blanket with sleeves? Normal people don't come up with that. Only someone with an infinite amount of time. Say someone without a clock? Hmmm, I thought so.

From the Mayflower to the Moon

May your stuffing be tasty


May your turkey be plump,


May your potatoes and gravy


Have nary a lump.


May your yams be delicious


And your pies take the prize,


And may your Thanksgiving dinner


Stay off your thighs!


~Author Unknown

I’ve been trying to inject a little fun into my life, my job and the school day for the boys at my school. Chocolate is always the first thing I turn to for fun (well, chocolate and ice cream, but chocolate is easier at school). So I’ve been stuffing my brain and theirs with Thanksgiving Trivia and stuffing my pockets with mini candy bars to toss out to the guys in return for their right answers. I have to admit that I’ve learned a few things I didn’t know before about Thanksgiving and all that goes with it. So here’s some turkey nuggets (so to speak) to toss around your table this thanksgiving.

Did you know the original Plymouth Rock has cracked multiple times and is now about the size of a car engine.

Did you know that a ripe cranberry should be able to bounce at least 4 inches high?

Did you know largest turkey ever raised was 86 pounds – about the size of a large dog (and I thought my thighs were big).

Did you know that because of breeding, turkey breasts have become so large that the turkey’s fall over? (I didn’t actually share this one with the guys at school ‘cause I just couldn’t see a way around the “B” word without…well…you know, they’re teenagers.

Did you know California consumes the more turkey per capita than any other state? (Combine that with the previous fact and I”m sure there’s a plastic surgery joke in there somewhere, but maybe I shouldn’t dig too deep).

Maybe you already knew as I did that Benjamin Franklin wanted the turkey to be the national bird of the United States. But I didn’t know that it was Thomas Jefferson who opposed him and it is believed that Franklin then named the male turkey as 'tom' to spite Jefferson (I kind of love stories about the Founding Fathers being snippy with each other – makes them seem more real somehow).

And, speaking of real, it is kind of amazing to think of the people – the real people that started this long-lived tradition. 102 Pilgrims crossed the Atlantic on the Mayflower in 1620. Even with the help of the Wampanoag Indians, only about half of them survived to celebrate the Thanksgiving Feast a year later in 1621– and only 5 of those survivors were women (who still had to do all the cooking).

Over three and a half centuries ago, linked by faith and bound by a common desire for liberty, a small band of pilgrims sought out a place in the New World where they could worship according to their own beliefs.

How could they have imagined that 300 years later Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldren, the first men on the moon would eat their first meal on the moon inspired by the Pilgrim’s first day of thanks - a roast turkey dinner out of foil packets.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Past, Present and Future

photo from harrypotter.wikia.com

There are some memories which I would prefer to forget altogether, yet there are others I would love to step into and breathe all over again.

Have you seen Harry Potter? I am fascinated by the idea of owning a pensieve. Have you noticed that people will often remember the same event—yet with differing details? Well, a pensieve would solve that problem. One could simply slip back and glimpse at what it was that really happened.

In my own life, I can think of so many memories that I would love to slip into yet again... not just to remember, but to actually re-live. What I wouldn’t give to be back under the old porch on 5^th Avenue in Iowa, playing make-believe games with my little brother. The moments of dancing with my dad when I was still his little girl, and then again in the moments during the last weeks of his life. I would love to re-live the feeling of magic as I performed on a stage—hearing the thunderous applause of the crowd at the conclusion of the performance. Or better yet, to once again breathe in the sweet smell of grandpa's pipe smoke, and watch more closely as he worked his magic with paints and pencils, bringing a blank canvas to life.

If I could combine the pensieve with the time machine from Back to the Future, my life would be truly awesome. I could sort out my memories first, find the ones that needed a bit of ‘tweaking’ and head back in time to fix them. I would make it so that I had never worn that humiliating outfit on my first day of high school. I would return to the pageant I was in, and answer my final question the right way. I would become better friends with the guys I was interested in, instead of wishing there was more there. I would have...

Actually; when I come to think about it, it is all of these experiences which made me who I am today…

When I was bullied, I learned to stand up for others.

When my heart was broken, I learned that I'd never want to inflict that same pain upon any other human being.

When I made mistakes, I learned how to do better the next time around.

There are so many lessons I have learned; I don't think I'd want to change my past - because even the slightest change could alter my future and who it is that I have become.

So on second thought, forget pensieves and time machines, I will instead be who I am and live for today - taking things as they come.

Bring on the experience.

Oh, the Places I Went

My thoughts tonight are blowing around, like the gusts of snow cast up by the icy November wind outside against a murky sky—I find myself caught up in that shadowy atmosphere as I gaze out my window at the night and the darkness which covers the outside world like an ornamented shroud.

Inside, the glow of the mulled cider candle illuminates the room; its guttural flame flickers back and forth, casting a thousand twisting shadows to the walls and ceiling in an elaborate dance; the smell of fresh cider wafts about the house.

It seems as of late that my life is a smorgasbord—a smorgasbord of moments—a culinary feast positioned together in a mottled buffet, awaiting the perusals of the ravenous comers and goers, heaping their saucers and bowls with something—hopefully of substance—to fill them.

I stand in line, waiting to be filled as well, here at my usual place at the dusty-blue counter atop a high-backed chair. I reflect on my life up to this point, all of my yesterdays—all those moments which are now irretrievable.

Life is such a fragile thing, really.

I find myself contemplating moments, and where they would have led me if I would have but taken different roads to the present, rather than those which I did choose. One cannot help but question just where that other path might have taken them; what other sights they would have afforded…

In my ponderings this evening, I found myself searching out the book given to me years ago by a friend, Oh, the Places You’ll Go, and reading over its words with silent awe. I share a few selections with you, which as I read them, seemed to leap off of the page and move about mind like the shadowy dancers…

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own.
And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy
who'll decide where to go.

Oh, the places you'll go!
There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored.
There are games to be won.
And the magical things
you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est
winner of all.
Fame! You'll be as famous
as famous can be,
with the whole wide world
watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't
Because, sometimes they won't.

You won't lag behind
because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang
and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly,
you'll be best of the best.
Wherever you go,
you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't.
Because, sometimes, you won't.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul.
On you will go
though your enemies prowl.
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl.
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike,
And I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

Kid, you’ll move mountains!

So...
be your name Buxbaum
or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van
Allen O'Shea,
You're off the Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So, get on your way!

So now I find myself sitting,
And pondering more.
The words of the Doctor,
Which have me puzzling sore.

The words which he penned,
So eloquently here.
These words are the words,
I so needed to hear.

I find myself knowing,
For knowing I do.
My life was the one
To do what I choose.

And could it be different,
From the way that I lived?
Yes, it is true
But I gived what I gived.

So content I am now,
Content to be me.
This was the way,
I chose it to be.

So I finish my post,
And run it instead.
I am off to dream now
Sweet dreams in my bed.

Shoes Baffle Me

GUEST BLOGGER: JULIE

Born and raised in Provo, Utah, her dad picked her husband for her (really). She and her sweetheart have been married for 17 years. They are the parents of three sons, one a teenager and the other two in gradeschool, and one daughter, who at 19 months old rules the house with her chubby fist and gap-toothed smile.

Yes, you read that right. Shoes baffle me. Don't get me wrong--I love shoes. The more comfy, the better. And if I don't have to tie or buckle or lace them? Perfect. But there is one thing I don't understand.

Why do I see stray shoes on the road?

And it's never a pair of them. I realize that shoes can come off a person's feet in tragic auto-pedestrian accidents, but I'm pretty sure the officers on the scene clean those up. I'm talking about the single shoes you see in the middle of or off to the side of the road. Where do those come from?

I've always assumed that those lonely shoes are the casualty of a move. You've seen the college students with their little hatchbacks stuffed to overflowing with all their belongings. They're bound to lose something on their way to independence, finals, and rent payments. Or maybe the shoe has been thrown out the window by a child having a tantrum. I could see that.

But don't people notice that something has fallen out of their car? What do they do when they unpack or arrive at their destination and realize they or their child no longer have a complete pair of shoes? Would it bother them enough that they'd retrace their route to find the errant shoe? I can see myself doing that.

Missing things bug the crap out of me. I can't stand it. The thought of losing a single shoe would be enough to put me in the funny farm. Losing a sock in the wash is cause for a near nervous breakdown. I will hunt feverishly to figure out where that sock has disappeared. I just like to have paired things in pairs. Call me compulsive or obsessive, but that's the way I am.

Enter my three sons. Fortunately for my sanity, I no longer count every Lego block as it goes back into its container to make sure all are accounted for. I gave that up when son #2 got past the Duplo stage. I still do it with the Duplo Primo container because hey--20 pieces of huge Legos aren't that hard to keep track of. I had to give up keeping track of all the Matchbox/Hotwheels cars, though. I swear those things multiply in the dark when left unattended.

When it comes to keeping track of stuff, my sons are horrible. This is annoying to me. I can tell them exactly where their stuff is. I can give them specific directions to find something that is in plain site on top of their dresser. They go to find it and come back in less than a minute, claiming that "it wasn't there." Drives me nuts. I walk them back in the exact location and, lo and behold, there it is. Exactly where I said it was. I would like to assume that it's a boy thing. However, I'm forced to be realistic and admit that it's a personality thing.

I don't know why I am anal retentive in this way. I don't remember not being this way. I could find any one of my toys as a child because I knew exactly where they all were. And it wasn't because I was a particularly neat and organized child. My dad used to tease me about bringing in the garden tiller to clean my room because there were so many piles. But I knew what was in each pile and could find what I wanted when I wanted it. I'm weird that way.

So can anyone explain to me the mystery of roadside footwear? Has anyone actually lost a shoe this way? C'mon. Enlighten me. I really need to know.

In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, I need to find my husband's missing sock.