What A Way to Celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas

When my brother Roark found out that Thomas was getting married in the Portland, Oregon temple over Thanksgiving weekend, his first comment was "What a way to ruin Thanksgiving!" After all the festivities are over, I beg to differ.



Little Jude couldn't resist climbing up on
Mckenna's quilt.



We had a wonderful early Thanksgiving planned by Shelley and Ann at their home the Saturday before Thanksgiving. There were 26 aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and the little greats in attendance. On Thanksgiving day we got up at dark-thirty, piled into Brett and Kerri's Suburban and drove to Portland. I made homemade rolls and pumpkin pie, Kerri brought leftover turkey from her family's Thanksgiving dinner and diet Coke to eat in the car while we were driving. What more could you ask for?

   



 

Thomas looks pretty relaxed for  some one who
is getting married in less than 24 hours.



Everyone predicted rain for the wedding, but we had three dry days, unusual for Portland in November. We even made a mad dash to Moltnomah Falls on Friday between trips to the airport to pick up Jayne, Dave, Chris, Megan and Matt.



Saturday morning before we had to be at the temple we went to breakfast at a local cafe, a man was driving down the street, saw us taking pictures and stopped and offtered to take a picture of all of us. What a random act of kindness! 

 

Thomas was starting to get a little antsy by this time.



My wonderful siblings and niece Mckenna were so fabulous to come all the way up Portland  for their Thanksgiving also.  

Thomas looked so pleased with himself as he and Monica were walking out of the temple, as if he was saying, "Yep, I did it, I'm married!" Monica just looks beautiful.



We had an open house for Thomas and Monica last weekend at our home which was decked out in its Christmas finery.  Because Thomas and Monica didn't have a wedding cake, Shelley and I decided we would make a chocolate, raspberry, orange one with long distance help from Stacey. 

I will certainly remember this Thanksgiving and Christmas for many years to come.. The drive to Portland was long and the open house was a lot of work, but it was something we were happy to do. We welcome Monica into our family with open arms and look forward to celebrating many holidays with her and Thomas in the future. 

The Church Mobilized

This Sunday morning was cold and dark . . in the house. We hadn't had power since 6:00 a.m. Thursday morning when east winds came roaring over the Wasatch Mountains and down the canyons with gusts up to 100 miles per hour. Trees were toppled and torn like toothpicks. And as they fell they took down electrical wires and poles with them. The winds also ripped shingles off roofs, siding off houses, tore up fences and sent trampolines and other un-anchored backyard playthings flying.

We lost two blue spruces trees, one of which was our first Christmas tree in this house, 17 years ago. We were fortunate, they didn't hit the house as they fell.  Our emergency preparedness rated a B or so. I had flashlights, batteries, lighters and emergency candles where I could easily find them. Our ceramic glass front gas fireplaces, chosen especially as a secondary heat source,  kept the living areas warm enough, especially since we didn't have children to keep warm. The main thing we were lacking was a generator to keep the freezer and refrigerator working. But being without electricity was getting old and I was starting to get a little cranky (and a little stinky.)

So when I woke up Sunday morning at 5:00 without the cheery red glow from my beside clock I was not happy. John insisted on taking the branches from the spruces to the dump even though it was Sunday. I have to admit I was a little upset with him. He was worried about the weather forecast of more wind and snow.


Ward youth helping load our trailer, thankfully we had a
front end loader as well



John was not the only one worried about the forecast. We got word (our phones weren't working) that they were cancelling church to clean up the storm debris in our ward before the next storm and our Tahoe and trailer were needed to haul the downed trees to a holding field in west Kaysville. Ward members of all ages turned out to help. Children were working along side their 80 year old neighbors. Non members came out to help when they saw their pile of debris being thrown into trailers. 150 people working to help one another. We got done in four hours what could have taken weeks.




Waiting to unload.

 This was happening in wards all over the Wasatch Front. When John first took our trees to the dump he was the only one there, but as word spread trucks and trailers of all sizes loaded mainly with pine and spruce boughs began to head toward designated areas. I was luckily enough to go with John on 5 trips to unload the trailer. We saw the power of the church as it mobilized its members. The roads were lined with anything that could haul something; from the smallest truck bed to huge dump trucks.


For some reason I was almost moved to tears when the truck and trailer next to ours finished unloading their trailer and without saying a word, turned around and started helping us with ours. It didn't matter that they weren't even from our stake, it had to be done and they were helping where it was needed. By the time we made our last load, the National Guard was there, Kaysville City police was directing traffic and heavy equipment was being used to help unload the trailers.



Our last load was wider and taller than the Tahoe, We were glad to have help unloading.

As the Sabbath ended I was in a very different frame of mind. I was filled with gratitude and awe for a church that truly believes Christ's teaching: "When you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me." I had a shower and a delicious Sunday dinner at my sisters' home, then picked up Thomas and his new bride from their honeymoon. And when I got home, the power was back on.







He Thinketh That He Can Built a Kayak

I got my garage back, just in time for winter! John finished his boat. For the past 18 months John has been building a  kayak  in the garage, while we parked our cars in the driveway. This was not just any kayak, but a 21 foot white and red cedar strip kayak with curly maple accents. Of course it is a tandem so I can go out on more adventures with him. What would I do without John to force me out of my safe, warm, lazy comfort zone. I wouldn't have gone sailing, (he also built a sail boat with my dad), back packing, or river rafting if he hadn't pushed me into them.

John and his brother Craig both decided they wanted to build kayaks, it was a great brother bonding activity.  John said the whole time he was building it he felt like Nephi when he was building his ship. Nephi's brothers kept saying "Our brother is a fool, for he thinketh that he can build a ship." John said he often wondered if people were saying that about him. By this point I don't think they doubt him anymore.

John's is the kayak on the left, Craig's is on the right.

I know I don't, and now we get to go touring in our beautiful kayak!   And park in the garage.

"I Didn't Know That"

My maternal grandmother, Eva Willey Hill Trump, is the daughter of polygamists. Her mother, Ann Elizabeth Cowley Willey was the second wife of David Orson Willey.
We were talking about polygamy at a family dinner the other day and my mother brought up the point that her mother never had anything bad to say about polygamy.  My grandmother remembers every time her father came home was like a wonderful family home evening. He would come home and say to her mother "Annie, I have a new word for you." And they would learn the new word.
On the other had, my grandmother's sister, Antoinette Willey, hated being the daughter of polygamists. She always felt like an illegitimate child. Auntie, as we called her, never married. She didn't like men very much. Their father's other wife had 11 children and I have no idea how much time he spent with their family.

When Annie and Thomas figured out that their grandmother (my mother) was the granddaughter of polygamists they were somewhat surprised. Thomas said "I didn't know that polygamy was so recent in our family history."

 I don't understand polygamy and have very mixed feelings about it. My sister Shelley works at the Church History Library and has asked the church historians why polygamy was started. The answer is always "we don't know." I do know that I am here because of polygamy. My family is one good thing that happened because of it.

Just Happy to Be Here

I spent General Conference week in Mexico with Jayne and Dave at their beach house in Rocky Point. I also went with mom and dad. In a way it was an experiment to see how well mom and dad travel with dad's dementia and mom's chronic fatigue and pain.

Mom did about how I expected; she was tired and hurting but enjoyed the company, attention and meals that we cooked for her. It was dad I was interested in watching. We wondered if his dementia would get worse with the confusion of traveling.

Mom and dad on the beach

I caught of glimpse of my old dad one afternoon as he and mom watched a flock of pelicans on the Sea of Cortez. "Oh my word," he said with a delighted laugh as he watched the pelicans diving for fish. I have heard him say that countless times in the past when he saw something that amazed or surprised him.

Mom and dad in the 70s

Dad loves being around family, his face lights up when ever he sees any of his children and grandchildren. And especially the greats (great grandchildren.)  Alison and Brandon and their little boy Russell come down from Tucson for the last half of the week. While they were there Russell learned how to walk. We all looked on with familial pride as he toddled from one piece of furniture to another. I looked over at dad as he was watching Russell and asked him if he was glad came, he looked at me as if it was a silly question and said "Of course I am."

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Jayne, Dave, Alison and Brandon with baby Russell

Dad still had (and has) times he didn't know what to do and wasn't sure where he was, but I look at him and he is still my dad. I see frustration in his eyes as he chokes on something or tries to remember something or what to do.  His dementia has taken away his medicine, his brilliance and many memories, but he is a kind gentle soul, mostly happy with where he is at.

I hope as I age I can learn from my dad, not notice anything but the good and say, "I'm just happy to be here."

Mother Nature is Still in Charge

The first cold front of fall has come; Indian summer is all that is left of warm weather. The cricket’s song is slowing down, and I put on socks to warm my cold feet. Another growing season has come to an end.

It started out slow with a wet cold spring and a record snowmelt that lasted well into June. The creek in front of our house flowed as high as I have ever seen it.

Because summer was so long in coming, my flower and vegetable garden had a slow start with mainly successes and a few failures. I have learned garden failures are nothing personal, just Mother Nature telling me she is still in control.

Successes:
1. Spinach in March. The spinach I planted in the greenhouse last fall wintered over provided us with an early spring crop.

2. Flowers form seed. I started most of my self watering planter plants including avalanche petunias and a large leaf begonia from seed. I figure I saved at least $30 a pot growing my own plants and I have 7 pots. The math speaks for its self, especially if I don't factor in the initial cost of the greenhouse, grow lights and potting supplies.

3. Perennials. I love perennials. They come back every year, with more than enough to share. The front perennial bed was as pretty as it has ever been.

4. Fuchsia. I was able to keep fuchsia alive on my front porch for most of the summer. I didn’t think that was possible because they are a cool weather plant. The flowers look almost fake to me because they are so vibrant and exotic looking.

Failures:

1. Deer. They ate beans, beets, tomatoes, pumpkins, peppers, zuchinni, tulips, petunias and geraniums. Note to self, don’t suspend a hanging planter where a deer can just walk up and munch on the petunia and geranium buds. It must be like candy to them. Luckily, I have enough to share. Barely.
2. Tomatoes from seed. I also planted heirloom tomatoes from seed. They started out great, but didn’t do too well later on. I don’t know if it was the variety I chose, the late summer, or just a bad season. On the other hand my cherry and grape tomatoes did great, climbing up the wall outside our bedroom window.
3. Cucumbers and peppers. I don't think I am getting enough sun for these veggies. And I think I am one of the few people in the gardening world who cannot grow zuchinni. But on the bright side, I usually get all the cukes and zuchinni I need by mentioning my lack of them to other gardening friends.

It is time to put the garden to bed for the winter. I am anxious for the cold winds of winter. And all ready I am thinking about next year's garden. Who knows, maybe I will figure out how to grow zuchinni.

Just Be Nice

I was talking to Megan, my daughter-in-law last weekend about the post 9/11 world.  We discussed how after the bombing of the Twin Towers our nation seemed to return to our spiritual roots, but as time passed we, as a nation, are actually less spiritual now than we were before the terrorists attack.

I sometimes wonder that we, as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, are any better than the rest of the nation.  We mean well, we try to do everything we are asked to do, but sometimes we, like the rest of the nation are falling short. Megan is the Young Women president in her ward in Cortez, Colorado. She has a counselor who in Megan’s words is “mean” to the girls. The counselor would feel inspired that she needed to tells the girls what they are doing wrong and would do so in no uncertain words. Megan told her “I just want you to be nice” when dealing with the girls and their parents. The counselor felt that if she was inspired, she could just tell it like it is. Finally, after many hurt feelings, Megan told her counselor that she no longer could work with her if she couldn’t be nice to the girls. The counselor was stunned. She couldn’t understand that even if she felt she was inspired, she could also be nice.

I read President Monson’s Washington Post blog on the need for spiritual steadfastness after 9/11. He states: “If there is a spiritual lesson to be learned from our experience of that fateful day, it may be that we owe to God the same faithfulness that He gives to us.” http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/guest-voices/post/911-destruction-allowed-us-to-spiritually-rebuild/2011/09/08/gIQAbkjKCK_blog.html.

We are taught to “turn the other cheek,” and do unto others as you would have others do unto you.”  We need to remember that even though we believe we belong to the true church, that doesn’t give us license say hurtful things to any one, whether we agree with what they are doing or not. We are not their judge, our Heavenly Father is.  And he wants us to be nice.

Grandkids 24/7

Three of our grandchildren and our daughter-in-law visited us one Sunday afternoon last month. While this seems like a common occurrence to many families, it was a first in ours. Erin, Ian, Lily and Molly came, they ate Sunday dinner, they stayed for a while and left. Even though we have six grandchildren, they all live out of state with their parents. When we see our grandchildren we get to love them from the time they get up, (usually while their parents are still in bed) to good night stories, prayers and kisses.

Every two years we get together with our family. This year Matt and Erin from St. Louis, Missouri,  Thomas from Steamboat Springs, Colorado,  Annie, John and I all met at Chris and Meg's home in Cortez, Colorado. With Erin's degree in Anthropology, we thought she would like to come to the four corners area and see the ancient native American sights before Chris and Meg moved.

Oh, the best laid plans. . . Erin had kidneys stones across the plains into Colorado. She ended up taking Molly and going to her sister's house in Sandy because kidney stones and communal living don't mix.  Megan had another trip come up and wasn't there for the first couple of days. So it was the two dads, Annie, Thomas (and his girl friend Monica) and grandma and grandpa with five grandkids ages 18 months to 6 years. That's a ratio of  better than one adult to one child, but somehow Moms are the glue that holds things together, sot we muddled along the best we could.

To get out of the heat we were going to do some hiking (strolling) with the kids at about 10,000 feet at one of the mountain passes between Cortez and Durango, but when we got to the trail head a thunderhead moved in and the temperature dropped to 57 degrees. Not one us us thought to bring jackets! It was so cold Ian and Travis wouldn't get out of the car!

It's a good thing we had polar fleece blankets in the car!

So we  drove on into Durango and rode the free tram up the mountain.  It gave us some good Grandma and Grandpa time as I tried to make sure the kids didn't get too close to the door. 

It looks like I'm having more fun than the kids.!!!!!

At the top of the mountain with the thunderstorm behind us.

We brought Annie's new raft, to run the Anamas River. It was the highest it has been in years and the kids couldn't run the river so they played at the take out. And in Annie's boat before it got put away.


Because the kids couldn't go on the boat in Durango we promised them we would take them on the Colorado River outside of  Moab on the way home. It was a lot of work for a 20 minute boat ride, but even Maggie got to go!

I still haven't decided if I would rather have my grandchildren live close and drop in on Sunday afternoons or spend time with them 24/7 when we visit them or they visit us.  But I do know I'll take what I can get!

Ann Elizabeth Cowley and Rachel Dunford Lingard Stories

One of the reasons I started writing this blog was to record the small stories that my parents and John's mother have told us about their lives and their parents' lives. Most of these stories have been told over and over again, but when I ask if anyone has written them down, the answer is "Probably not." These stories are not heroic or earth shattering, but just give me a glimpse into the past.

I had Sunday dinner yesterday with Mom and Dad at Shelley and Ann's home.  Mom told a story about her grandmother Ann Elizabeth Cowley Willey. Ann Elizabeth's brother was Matthias Cowley, the apostle who had his priesthood suspended and resigned from the Quorum of the Twelve because he continued to perform polygamous marriages after the Manifesto. (His priesthood was restored 4 years before he died.) He was also the father of the apostle Matthew Cowley.  Mom's mother, Eva Willey Hill Trump (Grandma Trump), referred to Mattias as Uncle Matt.

Ann Elizabeth had an infection (maybe staff) in her knee that resulted in her using crutches.  She asked Matthias to give her a blessing. He did so.  Later he asked Ann Elizabeth to get him a drink of water.  She turned to get her crutches so she could stand up and get the water.  Matthias said, "No, you don't need your crutches."  And she didn't, she got up and got the water unaided.  Again, a small story, but kind of neat.

John's grandmother, Rachel Dunford Lingard, died of a heart attack when she was 58 years old, I think while Dad Lingard was on his mission. Her family put a quaking aspen etched on her headstone because, like the leaves on an quaking aspen tree, Grandmother Rachel was never still.  She was always doing something. Dad Lingard was that way and so is John. He told me the other day that he finally understood the significance of the aspen tree on his grandmother's headstone. He is happiest when he is doing something. I could have told him that.

Frozen Lime Chiffon Pie: Oh My Goodness, Was it Delicious

Matt and Erin gave me a new cookbook called The Pie and Pastry Bible by Rose Levy Beranbaum.  She has also written The Bread Bible which they swear has the best bread recipes they have tried.  Coming from them, that is quite an endorsement. 

I wanted to make a cool summer dessert this weekend, but I had homemade icecream last night and I had just made our favorite Oreo Lime Dessert. I wanted something new, so I tried Frozen Lime Chiffon Pie from the new cookbook.  Oh my goodness, was it delicious.  It was tart, light and cool. Definitely a keeper recipe. Because the recipe was requested by all who ate the pie, I am including it here.  Since I don't usually blog about food, it didn't even occur to me to take a picture, but trust me, it looked as good as it tasted.

Rose's recipes are usually quite involved, but in reality are not that difficult.  You just have to plan ahead when using them. I made the crust and the custard the night before and assembled the pie the morning I served it, though it can be made ahead and frozen for up to three months.

Graham Cracker Nut Crust
8 1/2 double graham crackers--crushed to equal 1 cup crumbs
1/2 cup toasted pecans
3 tablespoons sugar
4 tablespoons melted, unsalted butter
  Process graham crackers, pecans and sugar in food process until crackers become fine crumbs, about 20 seconds. Add the melted butter and pulse about 10 times, just until incorporated. Press into the bottom and up the sides of a 9 inch pie. To keep the crumbs from sticking to your fingers, place a piece of plastic wrap over the crumbs and press through the wrap. Chill.

Lime Chiffon Filling
2 large eggs-separated
1/3 cup sugar--divided
pinch of salt
2 teaspoons finely grated lime zest
3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice
2/3 cups cream
1/2 teaspoon cream of tarter
  Have a fine mesh strainer suspended over a medium bowl ready near the range. In a double boiler suspended over boiling water (the bottom of the upper container should not touch the water), stir together the yolks, 3 tablespoons of the sugar, salt, lime zest and juice until blended. Heat the mixture, stirring constantly, to just below the boiling point (170-180 degrees F). Steam will begin to appear and the mixture will be slightly thicker than heavy cream. It will leave a well defined track when a finger is run across the back of a spoon dipped in the mixture. Remove from the heat and pour into the strainer, scraping the thickened custard from the bottom of the pan. Cover top of custard with plastic wrap and chill until cold.
 Beat the cream just until soft peaks form. Using a large whisk or rubber spatula, fold the whipped cream into the chilled custard. Beat the egg whites in a medium bowl until foamy. Add the cream of tarter, raise the speed to medium and beat until soft peaks form. Continue beating, while adding about 1 tablespoon of the remaining sugar. Raise the speed to high, beat in the remaining sugar and continue to beat until stiff peaks form. Using a rubber spatula, fold the beaten egg whites into the lime and cream custard in two parts, making sure all the custard from the bottom is Incorporated and is uniform in color.
  Pour the mixture into the chilled graham cracker crust, smoothing the surface to make even, Freeze for at least six hours. Cover tightly with plastic wrap after the surface is frozen solid, about 1 hour. Transfer the pie plate from the freezer to the refrigerator 1-2 hours before serving. It should still be partially frozen when served. Serve with whipped cream if desired.

Grandmama Keaton's Swastika Quilt

Grandpapa and Grandmama Keaton,

My mother-in-law, Martha Mary Luton Lingard's mother Gladys Urso Keaton and infant sister died of pneumonia when Martha was 3 years old. She and her brother Earl were raised by their grandmother, Martha Mary (Mattie) Keaton, who, in the best southern tradition, was called Grandmama. I am often reminded, when Martha does or says something that is extremely old fashioned, that she was raised by someone who was born around the time of the Civil War.

Grandmama Keaton was an intelligent, frugal, stoic woman from  Elizabeth City, North Carolina. Her ancestors held land leases from King George that is still farmed by her descendants today. She was almost 60 years old when Martha and her brother Earl came to live with her in the late 1920s.

Around 1940 Grandmama Keaton frugally pieced 80 red, white and blue quilt blocks to make a quilt called The Spirit of St. Louis.  There are 3 different blue fabrics, several shades of muslin and the some of muslin fabric has been sewn together to make pieces big enough for the blocks.  Then the United States entered World War II. Grandmama had two grandsons in a army tank division in Germany. All she could see in the blocks was the red German Swastika, and she couldn't bring herself to finish the quilt.  She put the blocks away and never got them out again,   

Note the red swastika and  the seamed muslin piece on the top left.. 

A few years ago Martha showed me the blocks and asked me what to do with them.  I asked her if I could finish the quilt. I wanted to preserve the wonderful family treasure that Grandmama Keaton began.  Instead of swastikas I see loyalty, love and patriotism. As I stitched, I traced the seamed muslin patches with my finger and hoped to someday meet the woman who so frugally pieced and then put away her quilt blocks.  Her legacy lives on in her granddaughter and most importantly to me, her great grandson John.  

3 Fathers

I have been very fortunate and blessed to have three wonderful fathers in my life.

My dad: Bruce Taylor Neville

This is the dad I remember best, the dad from my adult years. 10 years ago he titled this picture "Getting Old".  My memories of dad from childhood are of vacations to the mountains and beach, teaching me to ski and 4-wheel drive and our informative and stimulating dinner conversations. The best advice he ever gave me was "You are responsible for your own happiness. Your parents, husband or children can"t make you happy, only you can."

My father-in-law: David Dunford Lingard

As a doctor's daughter, I was raised having the latest medical advice and treatment always available.  Dad Lingard believed in a little more natural approach. He was going to the chiropractor, juicing fresh fruits and vegetables and taking vitamins, garlic supplements and fish oil before anyone even knew about vitamin E and antioxidants. He gave us a subscription to "Prevention" magazine as a wedding present.  I was appalled.  In the end we agreed to disagree when talking about medical care. He died in 1997 when his heart finally gave out. I  imagine how he would smile if he could see that he was right all along.  He would be thrilled that I make juice smoothies in my Vita-Mix every day.  He is greatly missed.

The father of my children:  John Luton Lingard

                                                  

Some of my best memories of John as a father are watching him do things with our children. He spent hours in the surf at Padre Island teaching the boys how to boogie board. We went backpacking down the Grand Canyon, in southern Utah and Glacier National Park. He has run miles and miles with them.  We have rafted down rivers in Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, Colorado and Oregon. John is now doing things with a second generation, his grandchildren. How lucky they are.

The Queen of No

This probably won't surprise any of my biological children or those I have been to girls camp with but last week when I was visiting Matt and Erin in St. Louis he told me that as a mom I was the "Queen of No."

The Queen of No in the making. Chris is 2 weeks old and Matt is 18 months old

There are as many different parenting styles as there are parents and as Matt so bluntly put it saying no was  my parenting style.  Part of this was due to budget restraints and part due to my basic child rearing instincts. I didn't start out by crowning myself Queen. But was saying no such a bad thing?  I think not.  Here are my top ten parenting nos in no particular order.

Queen of No's Top Ten Parenting Nos.

1. No hitting, biting, name calling or hair pulling. Chris tried to get around this one by just holding Annie's hair until she turned her head.  He claimed she pulled her own hair. Unfortunately this means I raised three boys who can't hold their own in a bar fight, it's a good thing they don't go to bars.
2. No bad mouthing anyone: mom, dad, or each other. "If you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all."  Thumper's mom was right.
3. No whining. Or "you can be happy out here with the family, or you can cry, whine, or throw a temper tantrum in your room." Or "everybody look at Thomas and smile." 
4. No coddling at dinner time. If you don't like it, there's always peanut butter. To this day, none of my kids like peanut butter.
5. No junk food or fast food. We didn't have chips, candy and soda (believe it or not, John and I didn't start drinking a lot of Coke until the kids were older) around the house. Thomas didn't go to McDonalds until he was invited to a birthday party when he was 5.)
6. No potty humor. Why do boys age 3 - 99 think this is funny? Chris just put a fart app on John's iphone.
7. No TV. Twice while the kids were growing up our TV broke and we didn't fix it for a while. When Chris and Matt were in junior high, they were the only kids in school who didn't know who Homer Simpson was.
8. No maid service. The kids had jobs to do around the house. Dishes, bathrooms, dusting, vacuuming. They didn't get paid to do these jobs, it was just part of being in the family. Our home wasn't spotless, but no one ever called to board of health. I tried, but did not spend a lot of effort making them keep their rooms clean. I figured my room was not always clean, why should theirs be?
9. No slacking in school. The kids were expected to do their best in school. A's were nice but weren't required if they tried hard, but we knew and they knew they could do better than C's and D's. 
10. No rescuing. The children had to learn their choices had consequences. As John put it,we live by "The Law of Unintended Consequences." 

I might be biased, but so far I think my children have turned out pretty well, nos and all.  So you may call me QueeneJeanne.

Live Long and Prosper

As Matt and Erin's family and I were driving from Nauvoo to Iowa for Mark and Bethany's reception we passed the Starship Enterprise! Even though it was pouring rain we had to stop. Turns out we were only six miles from the future birthplace of Captain James T. Kirk.  We didn't have time to make a pilgrimage to Riverside but we did take pictures.

Grandma Time

 

Ian and Lily



I went to St Louis last week to see Matt and Erin, attend a sealing in the Nauvoo Temple and go Ian's pre-school graduation.  All those things were great, but the real reason I went was to see some of the cutest grandkids in the world!

Stylin Molly at the Zoo



Molly decided she liked Grandma's drink cup! She didn't drink any, honest.



3 New Quilts

"Crazy for Thomas" Quilt

Mom has made "snuggly quilts" for a lot of the grand kids when they went off to college.  Most of them were variations of 8 inch squares.  She had cut out flannel squares for a quilt for Thomas but didn't have time to finish it before the big move.  I asked her if I could finish it when we found out Thomas would be moving to Steamboat Springs.  It gets really cold and snowy there and I thought he needed a "snuggly quilt" to stay warm.  I wanted to try something new with squares and found a pattern where you sewed 20 squares together into a 4 x 5 rectangles and then re-cut and re-sewed the rectangle back together into a "crazy" style rectangle. I then sewed 4 "crazy" rectangles to make the quilt.  I like it way it turned out, especially for a guy quilt.

Mark's quilt

Clay's quilt

I also ended making wedding quilts for two of John's nephews and their brides (with Annie and Rachel's help, thank heavens.) Mark (Paul's son) is getting married this week in the Nauvoo Temple.  (Hooray, I leave tomorrow to visit Matt and Erin and kids in St. Louis and then go to the sealing in Nauvoo.)  Clay (Eric's son) is getting married the end of this month. 

It isn't easy choosing fabrics for two quilts at the same time, but I love them both.  I love working with pretty fabrics. We tied the quilts on Saturday at Marianne's home. Mark's quilt is a funky bold quilt with pink and red roses on a brown background, light blue and red border, and then a red polka-dot.  I had Clay's fiancee choose her quilt since she was there to tie the quilts and she chose the classic red, white and black quilt because she "didn't like roses". . .  I hope Mark and his fiancee do.  But what do kids in their early twenties know? 

Leaving the Nest?????

When I first saw this bird's nest it was laying outside of our mechanic's office.  We took mom and dad's Trooper to have some work done before we sold it ($1400 thanks to KSL.com.) The nest was under the hood nestled around and between car parts so tight that the mechanic had to take it out in three or four pieces.

That poor bird mom, thinking she had found a safe place for her eggs, no one had driven the Trooper for weeks, and the next thing she knew her eggs were driving off without her. 

There are quite a few analogies I can think of about that bird's nest and moving mom and dad out of their home, but I don't think I will. You can make your own.

Life is Full of Forgiveness Opportunities

A few thoughts I have had this Easter week.

When Christ was born the angel brought "tidings of great joy".  The good news was that Christ had finally come to redeem his people.  His atonement would make it possible for us to return to our Heavenly father.  Many references to joy in the scriptures actually refers to the atonement.  So not only is Christmas time a time for joy, but Easter makes that joy a reality. 

On another note.  John's sister Reina called him last week in tears and said that her son Weston broke three ribs on her rocking chair. Now the only way that could have happened was that the chair wasn't being treated the way an heirloom rocking chair should be treated.  He was a little cranky because she asked him if he could fix it and the only way to fix it would be to cut off the top, make new ribs, put it back together and refinish it. Hours of work. (And she denied her boys did anything wrong.) 

John called Hal Taylor, the designer of the rocking chair and asked for advice on how to fix the chair.  He sent some updates on the plans with this postscript: "Remember, life is full of forgiveness opportunities." 

I asked myself last week "how do I forgive someone, if the person I need to forgive doesn't know they need forgiving?"  Thomas asked me "how often do I have to forgive the same person for the same thing?"  Our opportunities to forgive abound. Christ said we should forgive seventy times seven.  It will probably take me at least that many times before I get it right.

I'm No Pahoran

I love the story from the Book of Mormon when Moroni and Pahoran send letters back and forth to each other asking for help in the war against the king-men.  Moroni can't understand why Pahoran doesn't send help, strongly accuses Pahoran of negligence and threatens to overthrow him if he doesn't send aid.  meanwhile Pahoran is fighting for his kingdom and needs help as well.  Pahoran answers Moroni's angry letter with forgiveness and love.

And now, in your epistle you have ^acensured me, but it mattereth not; I am not angry, but do rejoice in the greatness of your heart. I, Pahoran, do not ^bseek for power, save only to retain my judgment-seat that I may preserve the rights and the liberty of my people. My soul standeth fast in that liberty in the which God hath made us ^cfree (Alma 61:9).

In the all-consuming sale of mom and dad's house there have been a lot of things that have needed to be done.  We thought we had the house sold once, but it fell through.  A second buyer made an offer, and an addendum was made with a list of repairs.  To make a long story short, John and I offered advice that wasn't needed or wanted and hurt feelings ensued. On both sides.  I wish I had been able to respond with Pahoran's wisdom:  "I am not angry, but do rejoice in the greatness of your heart."  Instead I got angry, cried, and felt sorry for myself all weekend.  It was a miserable weekend.  The only redeeming thing I can say is I did not say out loud the hurtful things that I was thinking.

We (my siblings and I) have been doing all we can to help mom and dad move.  At one time or another, we probably have all felt that we were doing more than our share.  It has been harder than I ever thought it would be. I understand now why families can be torn apart by hurt feelings.  It is easier to give in to imagined or real slights than to not get angry. I am trying to put my anger aside and admire the "greatness of heart" of my family members and acknowledge all they have done to help our parents.  

Lessons Learned

The last two weeks have been spent packing up mom and dad's house.  They have lived in that house almost half of their lives.  It has been a very bittersweet time for me.  I got to have Jayne, Alison and her 5 month old son Russell, and Leslie and her 6 month old son Owen came and stayed with us for a week to help pack. Alison and Leslie are wonderful moms and it was so fun to have them in our home.  Plus, I got a little Grandma Jeanne time with their boys.  Mom and dad  are moving into Brett and Kerri's basement and will be downsizing by two thirds.  It is no easy thing to box up 40 years in a couple of weeks.  During this process I think I have learned several thing:

1. Rotate your food storage.

We brought up wheat from 1966 in cans that were covered in petrified mouse poop.  Admittedly, wheat lasts a long time and was probably still good, but Kerri and I can get away from the "eew" factor.  On the more practical side, 12 Costco sized jars of peanut butter, 7 year old flour, 8 year old canned goods, and ten year old jam really should have been rotated (or given to the food bank) before it became unusable.  It's a fine line between food insurance and wastefulness. 

2.  It's easier to go through your mom's things when she is still alive.

As Jayne and I went through mom's treasures, we would ask Mom what things were and if she was willing to part with them.  At first it was really hard for mom to think about parting with things, but after a while she got much better.  I think she liked the idea of the grand children treasuring them.  I took pictures of the things and gave a little history of the item, ie, this was a wedding present, grandma liked this because. . ., I remember using this growing up.  I then emailed the pictures and stories out to the grand kids and asked them what things they would like.  The response was very touching.  The grandchildren loved the stories behind the treasures and treasured them because they knew grandma did.

Before Jayne and Stacey left we, all 7 children, spouses and grandchildren that still live nearby, got together  and divided up the treasures.  It was a night of joy and laughter as everyone tried so hard to be fair.  We were not mourning the loss of a loved one but celebrating their life. We didn't have to do this after a funeral.  I have talked to many of my friends who have had to go through their parent's things after they died.  Inevitably it is a hard sad thing to do.  They don't know why their parent kept things.  We wouldn't have know that the Duncan relish tray was a wedding present and is fairly collectible. It would have gone straight to the DI pile.

3.  If I don't use something during the year, I am not keeping it.

As Mom Lingard puts it "They are only material things."  I love pretty things and want to have them in my home, but if I can't or don't use them, why not let someone else use them.  I would have loved some of my mother's treasure when I was in my 20s and 30s and and we couldn't afford a lot of nice things. Of course there are sentimental thing that I will probably keep. (Famous last words; my kids will probably think I have a lot of "unnecessary pretty items" when they have to go through my things.)

4.  Plan for the future.

John is 57, I am almost 55, in ten years we will need to decide if we are still able to keep up our beautiful home.  If not I hope we will choose to downsize and leave our home. If mom and dad had done this 10 years ago they would have been able to move when they wanted to not because they had to.  Dad and Mom Lingard moved out of their Riverton home into a condo while they were still in their 60s.  I thought they were crazy to move into such a small place while they were still young, but now I admire them. Looking back, I think Dad and Mom were planning ahead, they knew his heart wasn't strong enough for a big place. Hopefully, this is a lesson we can learn from them.

Lingard Comfort Food

John's mom turned 86 last week.  Since we are in charge of the Lingard activities this year we had all his siblings over for her birthday dinner last night.  We had Mormon Enchiladas (a favorite of Dad Lingard's) with Roger and Rachel's fresh eggs on top and Chocolate Raspberry Triffle.  The Lingards know how to enjoy Mormon Enchiladas!  They ate everything.  When I make them for the Nevilles, they seem a little tentative, just a little sauce, not may layers, some don't like corn tortillas, there is always leftovers.  Not so with the Lingards.  Plates were piled high with corn tortillas, cheese, sour cream, olives, sometimes two eggs, and overflowing with sauce.  Lingard comfort food.  When I first had them, Mom and Dad told stories how the boys would pile up 8 - 10 layers!  So I thought maybe I could do 4.  It was too much, then 3, I finally settled on two layers, that way you get the layered effect with all the condiments between two corn tortillas with sauce over all but not so much you die.  Comfort food indeed!

Martha brought a letter her Grandmother wrote Dad Lingard when he was on his mission. She told him how much they liked him and had prayed for a good companion for Martha.  Dad met Martha when his ship was being repaired in Norfolk, Virgina after it had been hit by a Kamikaze plane during WWII.  Mom said she only dated officers, but condesended to meet dad because he was highly recommended by members there.   To make a long story short, they fell in love and got engaged, but he wanted to serve a mission before they got married.  (She also served a mission on the East Coast while he was on his mission to Central America.)  After his mission he came straight to North Carolina, they got married 10 days later, drove across country to Salt Lake City and were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple a month after that (John Widstoe gave them permission to do this.)

Mom said she couldn't understand why her Grandmother wasn't thrilled she was getting married and leaving on this new adventure.  She said she only understood it when she waved goodbye to John and me and our two babies when we left from their house to drive to Texas.  She didn't know how often they would see us or if we would ever come back.  It must have been even worse for Grandmama Keaton.  Cross country travel took days, long distance phone calls were expensive and she really didn't know Dad very well.  He was taking Martha, who she had raised since she was three years old, to places unknown.  And Martha didn't look back, nor did we.  Nor have our children as they have left on their own adventures.  All we can do is wave and bid them  fond farewell and hope they return.

John's Birth Day

It was John's birthday yesterday. 57 years old. Wow, we're getting old. It was a two day affair. Saturday, he smoked turkeys, pork loin, and ribs. He had some hickory scraps from the shop, (see my Valentine's book cases, he finished the second one last week) that he wanted to try in the smoker. We had my family over for dinner Saturday night. I asked him if he wanted to invite his family instead and he said he didn't think anyone would want to come. I think he is being a little harsh on his siblings, but between the long drive (for some reason we can drive south, but the drive north is longer,) and the fact that the Lingards don't celebrate birthdays with each other, we brought another birthday dinner to his mother on Sunday instead. So of course that meant that John got two birthday desserts, Black Forest Trifle on Saturday and Cheesecake with Strawberry Sauce on Sunday.

Annie with the birthday boy!

As per tradition, Martha told us John's birth day story: Dad Lingard had a part time job delivering newspapers to the carriers who delivered them to subscribers. He was getting ready to go when his Aunt Annie and Uncle Albert (Grandfather Lingard’s sister) dropped by with visitors from Canada. Mom started to feel a few contractions at that time as well. By the time they left mom told dad he better get someone else to do the papers, she needed to get to the hospital. She said they passed the County Hospital on the way and she asked dad to stop there because she didn't think she would make it to the LDS Hospital, but dad didn't want his child born at the County Hospital, it was for indigent people. They got to the hospital where her doctor met her. He wasn't supposed to be there, his father had died earlier in the week, but he told the nurse he knew mom wouldn't take very long. She didn't. The nurse still had the hypodermic needle in her hand to put mom out when John was born. She asked the doctor what she should do with it, he replied "Don't give it to Martha, she doesn't need it!" and then told the nurse to hand the baby to Mom so they could wheel her out and show dad his new son. The nurse was shocked. At that time mothers weren't given their new born babies to hold until the anesthetic wore off. Dad stopped by Uncle Albert and Aunt Annie's on his way home to tell them the good news. Annie Annie was so surprised that the baby was already here that she dropped the gravy boat she was holding when dad told her.