tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50500903340354694162024-03-12T20:08:14.244-05:00Gram-tasticJanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.comBlogger633125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-74058217462670629972014-04-11T16:54:00.005-05:002014-04-11T16:57:13.490-05:00Don't miss this one<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">"<i>Sometime we regret, more than any words spoken, a silence not broken<span style="font-size: x-small;">."</span></i><span style="font-size: x-small;">~</span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">Robert Braul</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 18.479999542236328px;">t</span></span><br />
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I know I've mentioned Robert Brault before -- but he has just let me know that there is now a book available that's full of his smart, funny, touching (you add your own adjective here -- pretty much anything will fit, as he is a word genius) thoughts. I have already ordered mine, and you'd be smart if you did the same. He knows how to address any topic, in the best and most graceful yet (sometimes) piercing way. He really makes you think, and he is compassionate and wise as well. <br />
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Check it out here: <a href="http://rbrault.blogspot.com/p/blog-page_8.html" target="_blank">Robert Brault's book</a> -- I promise you will love it.Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-35820528368061209472014-04-10T14:09:00.002-05:002014-04-10T14:09:54.979-05:00It's been how long?!I don't know what made me think about this blog today, but I was astonished to discover how long it had been since I posted anything. I suspect with the advent of Facebook, texting, and Twitter etc., the blog method of communication has taken a back seat. But as I flipped back through my pages, I realized I missed putting my thoughts on (figurative) paper. <br />
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So today -- I decided to make note of what has been on my mind. I've been running again and getting better (stronger and faster and with more endurance) all the time, and I love that. Especially since I am getting older all the time, too. I am not as fast as I used to be, I don't go as far as I used to go - but I can still go. And I want to keep on doing until I absolutely can't. Wasn't it Sister Hinckley who made a comment about not wanting to die of boredom on the shelf, but rather be used up in her old(er) age? That's how I feel.<br />
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And I have been happily proving right the quote I read about how the task itself really hasn't changed -- but my ability to achieve and master the task have changed as I just keep doing it and don't give up.<br />
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The weather here is lovely, I am happy, and I am grateful. I hope you can say the same, because that's what I wish for all.<br />
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<br />Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-29401884816460379552012-12-16T21:47:00.001-06:002012-12-16T21:47:51.480-06:00Tragedy<span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I can't take in this recent school tragedy. As a teacher, a parent, a grandparent and a human being, I am heartsick at the senseless loss of beautiful children and teachers.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #202020; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">These beautiful words come straight from the blog of one of my favorite writers, <a href="http://www.robertbrault.com/">Robert Brault</a>. He always knows what to say and how to say it and his words (while they make me cry -- again) have given me some comfort and eased the aching that I feel in my heart as I contemplate this horrific event.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><em style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>A Mother's Reverie</b></span></em><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /></span><em style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Child lost, do you suppose</span></em><span style="background-color: white;"><br /><em style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That we could ever be apart,<br />That though you’ve left my yearning bosom,<br />You could ever leave my heart?</span></em><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /><em style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></em><em style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Do you suppose that though the years<br />Bring what they may of joy and strife,<br />I’ll e'er forget that once there stirred<br />Within me your sweet precious life?<br /><br /></span></em></span><em style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Do you suppose that there will come</span></em><span style="background-color: white;"><em style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />A morning when I’ll not arise<br />To live again that day when last<br />You turned to me your trusting eyes?<br /><br /></span></em></span><em style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Child dear, I know you dwell</span></em><span style="background-color: white;"><em style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />Within the Lord’s protective might,<br />But do you know how brave you were<br />And how I long to hold you tight?</span></em><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;" /></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i style="font-family: Arial;">____________________________________________________</i><br /><span style="font-family: Arial;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><i>"If there is consolation, it must come from knowing that others have suffered the cruel loss of a child and have recovered to find purpose in their lives. We exist in a cycle of relentless restoration and renewal, a cycle in which the spring returns and that which seemed forever gone is reborn. Those who go before us lead the way, and who knows what divine purpose resides in a child taken from us prematurely."</i></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"Child lost, sometimes in dreams</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I wander in an endless night,</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">When, lo, a tiny hand takes mine</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And leads me to the morning light."</span></i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div>
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<i style="font-family: Arial;">~~ Robert Brault</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">There are no words for the feelings I have but as always, Robert Brault has the words I need. I thank him for that.</span></div>
Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-753243835471059492012-06-07T10:55:00.001-05:002012-06-07T10:55:17.796-05:00In His Hands<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;"><i>"The road back to God is a road of moral effort, of trying harder and harder. But...it is not the trying that is ever going to bring us home. All this trying leads up to the vital moment at which you turn to God and say, 'You must do this. I can't.'</i></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">-CS Lewis</span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">I found this on Facebook today and immediately had to steal it because it spoke so clearly to me. I have always loved C.S. Lewis - he has a way of saying things that I can easily relate to. I think for me the idea of relinquishing control {I am definitely a control freak!} is what is difficult, and to be able to admit that I can't do something on my own is tough. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">But if I have learned anything at all, it's that there are surely things that I <i>can't </i></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">do on my own and to put them in His hands is the only answer. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">How blessed we are to be able to do just that - give it to Him and move forward. He loves us more than we can understand and is waiting for us to come to Him for the help we need.</span>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-69123493247304894602012-05-19T18:09:00.001-05:002012-05-19T22:21:35.496-05:00School's Out!! (almost!)<i>"The most beautiful sight in the world is a little child going confidently down the road after you have shown him the way.</i>"~<span style="font-size: x-small;">Confucious</span><br />
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It's nearly the end of another school year and while I'm not a mom with kids in the schools anymore, I have 4 school-age kiddoes in my life that I love dearly and it's pleasure to see how well they have all done this year. Daniel and Maya are finishing 2nd grade and Ben and Mason are finishing up Kindergarten. I can't quite comprehend how this has happened. Add to that Simon and Lucy who are 3 1/2 and 2 respectively and it makes me wonder where the time has gone.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">There have been piano lessons, tai-kwon-do, volleyball, swimming (both lessons and swim team), gymnastics, tumbling -- you name it, it's been done by one of the kiddoes this year. And they have all grown and stretched themselves in lots of ways. All 4 of them are fantastic readers, which is a great foundation for them to continue building their education upon.</span><br />
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I hope it goes without saying that we are incredibly proud of these precious grandkids of ours -- we love them dearly and are so excited to watch them learn and grown. But we are also extremely proud of their parents: Chris & Tara and Chris & Natalie are wonderful, loving, involved, patient and creative parents. I truly couldn't ask for our beloved grandkiddoes to be in better hands than the ones they have been blessed with.<br />
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So fun to see them moving on into their lives -- confidently and well prepared.Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-30909614193681441432012-05-10T20:49:00.001-05:002012-05-10T20:49:31.106-05:00Time is Flying!It's already May 10 (seriously -- where has the time gone?) so it's time for a little updating, I guess. <br />
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The finger: I am now down to less than 2 weeks in the splint and bandaging -- it seems like it has been forever but it also seems like it has happened quickly. I will be so glad to have my finger back. Maya asked me the other day what the Dr. would do - - I'm guessing he will take the splint and tape off and blow a kiss at me as I run out the door. At least that's what I hope he will do! I'm hoping for the best.<br />
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There's been a picture of Natalie and I that has almost taken on a life of its own. (see above) My friend Macy took the picture a few months ago and it has ended up in the Deseret Book Spring Catalog and in their Time Out for Women online ads as well. We have had so many friends all across the country contact us when they have seen it and that has been fun. I just love having such a fun picture of Natalie and I.<br />
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In other news, I ran a 5K this past weekend. I was pretty nervous about it because in the past 2 weeks my running has been awful. I had no stamina, my breathing was hard and really, I had no interest in even trying to hang in there. It was lame. So I was very afraid of how this 5k would turn out.<br />
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I was happy to discover that I am still a runner, and really, not such a bad one either. I ended up finishing in 30:23 -- which was good, and made it a 9:39 pace. And I ended up 7th in my age group (which, admittedly, is old) -- but there were about 25 people in that group. And I loved it. So much fun.<br />
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And the best part was that I ran it with family. Chris, Natalie and Maya all ran the 5K too. Chris smoked us all - he was amazingly fast (23 min, approx, I think), Natalie beat me by around 30 seconds and Maya did it in 35 minutes with no training. Awesome all around. Can't say I love the way I look in the picture but with hair pulled back at 8 a.m., I guess that's the best I could do!!<br />
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So my plan is to just continue to work at getting quicker and to keep loving it. So that next year - -I can move myself up in my age group and beat a few more oldies like myself.Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-60917312636551513392012-04-04T14:54:00.004-05:002012-04-04T15:09:59.863-05:00Happy Easter!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRR02T2cG3kpPGgz6MRwTIGTfc2op5N-4NO163aJH3zJ7T0X8ttICOb2MjdihcR9qHhhoEbqfmkVybYkH5ktLIhKF4jc2ee8RNKZUoq2L39iYq3pNPGuDMW0rgY03nm2iS0YtJIx5YykhO/s1600/Jesus+easter.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRR02T2cG3kpPGgz6MRwTIGTfc2op5N-4NO163aJH3zJ7T0X8ttICOb2MjdihcR9qHhhoEbqfmkVybYkH5ktLIhKF4jc2ee8RNKZUoq2L39iYq3pNPGuDMW0rgY03nm2iS0YtJIx5YykhO/s400/Jesus+easter.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727640319337197218" /></a><i style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">"Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people, and hallelujah is our song.</i><span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><i>"</i><span style="font-style: normal; ">~</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 51, 102); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Pope John Paul II</span><div style="font-style: normal; line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br /></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">We live in a world where so many people are dealing with hard things. There are health issues, employment issues, family issues -- the list just goes on and on. Sometimes my heart breaks for my friends and loved ones and sometimes it aches for myself. Life is not easy and it's so easy to get discouraged and even to feel despair. </span></div><div style="font-style: normal; line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br /></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span ><span style="line-height: 20px;">As I contemplated these things, I was reminded of a wonderful Conference talk given by Joseph B. Wirthlin, entitled "<a href="http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2006/10/sunday-will-come?lang=eng&query=sunday+will+come+joseph+b+wirthlin">Sunday Will Come</a>". It was given in 2006 but was so powerful for me that I have never forgotten it and go back and re-read it fairly often. He talks about the crucifixion of the Savior and how dark it was that day (physically and spiritually) -- but reminded us that that terrible day did not remain. And despite the fact that we may be in the midst of a terrible 'day' in our lives, that our Sunday (and the brightness and joy it brings) will surely come.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span ><span style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span ><span style="line-height: 20px; ">I used the above quote last year at this time as well and it too has stuck with me. I need to remember that despite the darkness we all find in our lives from time to time, that we need not despair, because Sunday <i>will </i>come. And it will come because of the priceless gift that our Savior Jesus Christ gave us at this Easter time: His atoning sacrifice and resurrection.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span ><span style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span ><span style="line-height: 20px; ">So indeed, we need not (and<i> must not</i>) abandon ourselves to despair because we <i>are</i> the Easter people!</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span ><span style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span ><span style="line-height: 20px;">Hallelujah!</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span ><span style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; "><span ><span style="line-height: 20px;"><a href="http://delparson.com/gallery_pages/he_is_risen.html">picture by Del Parson</a></span></span></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-61111312618228954642012-03-29T19:55:00.007-05:002012-03-30T09:04:43.411-05:00Jogging is Dangerous?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2QgitWuYXeqQOO04zOREyAxMSg8SNf4fdgCrF1pzbQjggAgmy3dOE96eePDRVQqR-7oPn56M3EMgieTJzcP9Yim2YviMg1iuC-YQhcS846Kw0GJAKHKVT1UQVGRp-IdB6Ls1VqDzPnpl/s1600/mallet-attelle-11.jpg" style="font-size: 100%; "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2QgitWuYXeqQOO04zOREyAxMSg8SNf4fdgCrF1pzbQjggAgmy3dOE96eePDRVQqR-7oPn56M3EMgieTJzcP9Yim2YviMg1iuC-YQhcS846Kw0GJAKHKVT1UQVGRp-IdB6Ls1VqDzPnpl/s400/mallet-attelle-11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5725492386602638098" /></a><span style="font-size: 100%;"> This past Saturday I was out jogging and caught my shoe in a sidewalk crack. I thought I had managed to keep my balance but ended up going down so I tried to aim myself towards the grass rather than the sidewalk. I ended up scraping up one knee (scrape + giant bruise), scraping the palm of my left hand, and even scraped my chin a bit. None of that is very serious but my right hand was holding my phone (always have my music going when I run) and I landed hard on that hand which was curled around the phone.</span><div style="font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-style: normal; ">I picked myself up and trudged the rest of the way home (I was pretty much almost there, dang it!) and as I did I noticed that my fourth finger on the right hand was feeling like it had been jammed. And then I looked at it -- the tip of the finger (by the last knuckle) was just </span><i>drooping</i>, nearly dangling and I couldn't move it back up unless I used my other hand. </div><div style="font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-size: 100%; ">I iced it and waited but ended up calling an orthopedic doc on Monday because I <i>need</i> my hand! They had me in yesterday and the diagnosis is <i>mallet finger</i>, which is common among baseball players. The prognosis is OK -- but I have to wear a splint for 6-8 weeks, 24/7, sleeping, waking, showering, doing hair -- whatever. The finger has to remain straight or the 6-8 weeks starts over. Really? (big sigh here!)</div><div style="font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-size: 100%; ">There are no broken bones but the tendon has been completely pulled away from the bone and needs lots of time to heal. The dr. said that he wants to see me in 2 weeks and that there is a real possibility that there will be a need to put a pin in to help hold the finger in place. So -- maybe surgery.</span></div><div style="font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-size: 100%; "><span style="font-style: normal; ">I think it will all be OK, but I </span><i>need</i> my fingers -- so I would be grateful for your prayers. </div><div style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></div><div><span>**not my finger but it looks a lot like that</span></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-71710952449453214372012-03-20T21:42:00.006-05:002012-03-20T21:58:58.957-05:00Catching Up<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsV0loWU7raikAkBXLs6Jm1dbSBriC3yaXDt7sQ3rLYhkLuEF4Cvmxpsb1CZHw34qsF83sqgRhqOrF4Dm_RV_jxEbqErBGiHDW2PGmBqOYe9NHl2HaAcss9o9ziOiXAp5b4-suBwmPbPiA/s1600/catching+up.jpg" style="font-style: normal; "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsV0loWU7raikAkBXLs6Jm1dbSBriC3yaXDt7sQ3rLYhkLuEF4Cvmxpsb1CZHw34qsF83sqgRhqOrF4Dm_RV_jxEbqErBGiHDW2PGmBqOYe9NHl2HaAcss9o9ziOiXAp5b4-suBwmPbPiA/s400/catching+up.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5722178125964044274" /></a>Really? My last past was 2 months ago? This is a graphic example of how quickly the time is going these days. There always seems to be something going on to keep me busy, for sure.<div style="font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; ">I was asked to give a talk in Stake Conference and that was pretty overwhelming. I'm glad it's done but I was also glad to have the chance to do it and address probably my favorite topic: "Teaching the gospel of Christ to children". Nothing better than that and I know (as always) that I learned much more as I studied, prayed and prepared than anyone who listened. Pure pleasure to address that topic, even if I was scared to death as well. That's what I call a mixed blessing!</div><div style="font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div>I also had the chance to accompany my talented friend Macy as she did her presentation at a "Time out for Women" -- this time in Idaho Falls, Idaho. It was a quick trip for me but always fun to do my best to help her do <i>her</i> best and wonderful to hear the messages I heard. I also love seeing the women in the audience soaking up the spirit and the lessons and messages that are presented so well.</div><div style="font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; ">Spring Break came and went (way too fast, as always) and we are now back in the routine of school. You might think that wouldn't have much to do with me anymore, but it does. I get to help with readers in a first grade classroom once a week, and I also drive Maya and Mason to school in the mornings (there is no better way to start your day - super fun to be with them first thing), and I have a few piano students that coincide with the school routine as well. </div><div style="font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; ">Life is wonderful. The bluebonnets are in full bloom (see the pic in the post above - it really does look like that here right now!), the weather is mild, I have been running outside now for probably a month, and I'm planning to do a 5K in early May. As my Natalie pointed out, I might even 'win' something (what??? I'm slow!) -- because I'm old. Made me smile. So there is something good about being old. </div><div style="font-style: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-style: normal; ">Who knew? </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-29534254228568353722012-01-19T21:00:00.005-06:002012-01-22T21:56:29.400-06:00He (or she) Who Sees<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0RqaIuc_OuNVZD3GjcRSY7QM-f1NaR-Lu_pwb4u3DipK7NTTOZS8ty1BxfEzuyy8zBDvZjmzlAMCCtFXWA0iXmonzf3vPBJDfwgxYT3bdAS5Vfds5ma3N_EWu7LRHIoE10SoQ8S2JJG1/s1600/Bluebonnets-Oak-Tree-V_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga0RqaIuc_OuNVZD3GjcRSY7QM-f1NaR-Lu_pwb4u3DipK7NTTOZS8ty1BxfEzuyy8zBDvZjmzlAMCCtFXWA0iXmonzf3vPBJDfwgxYT3bdAS5Vfds5ma3N_EWu7LRHIoE10SoQ8S2JJG1/s400/Bluebonnets-Oak-Tree-V_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700667605445094434" /></a><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><i>“Every common bush is afire with God ––but only he who sees takes off his shoes.”</i>~</span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Elizabeth Barrett Browning</span><div><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I read this recently and it has stuck with me. I'm sure you recognize the reference to the story of Moses and the burning bush: as Moses approached the bush, he removed his shoes because he knew he was standing on holy ground. I have always loved that because I really want to be not only the one who <i>sees</i>, but the one who figuratively takes off her shoes. </span></div><div><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">That's another goal for me this year: to be aware of God's marvelous hand in each of our lives, and going along with that, to treat that Hand with respect, reverence and gratitude.</span></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-28603854092571075022011-12-31T20:57:00.005-06:002011-12-31T21:17:22.360-06:00Happy New Year!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkqUkLcHJEPF3qTvjB4D5EN69dc6y2LUBfPs6Pgf092DWQ3soVZqIl-pOuugq2Jx2Hgk91E8VTj1M-pQ-xHfTzP_Ke7SATDgrh072agNNHo_xrvuPCu0aF8RWN7FZ6UJDBBkxlwJZktV4/s1600/welcome+2012.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkqUkLcHJEPF3qTvjB4D5EN69dc6y2LUBfPs6Pgf092DWQ3soVZqIl-pOuugq2Jx2Hgk91E8VTj1M-pQ-xHfTzP_Ke7SATDgrh072agNNHo_xrvuPCu0aF8RWN7FZ6UJDBBkxlwJZktV4/s400/welcome+2012.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692496463555526098" /></a><br /><table width="100%" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><tbody><tr><td colspan="2"><span class="text3"><span ><i>"Count no day lost in which you waited your turn, took only your share and sought advantage over no one."</i> ~<span ><a href="http://robertbrault.com/">Robert Brault</a><br /></span></span><br />I<span >'m not a great resolution-maker, but I think I'm going to take the above quote and use it as my mantra for the new year. No one could have put it better: to wait my turn, to take only my share and seek advantage over no one describes perfectly the kind of person I want to be.<br /><br />So, we are excited for 2012! This past year wasn't our best year, I don't think: {some hard things, some expensive things, some unexplainable things etc. etc.} although there were definitely some happy things, some fun things and much love and joy as well. I am excited to see what 2012 brings. And if I turn Robert Brault's criteria for a productive day into my own goals for the year, it will be a good one for me growth-wise.</span><br /><br />Welcome, 2012!</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-83580755416248880812011-12-23T21:53:00.007-06:002011-12-23T22:16:23.733-06:00It's Christmas!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy5V3JgQjTc-jh9nY9NBsmPFymotCy3kkKXxuX-DUPk_Q0OMKd2JH0RdMB-ynL8lMcsYlKCq6Ne80jzUgs2rRZDEoAGNrdUsyeHXVPjODqDZUM9OOLWajA9OHxlJHcWPy1anCrrHlHq-IC/s1600/liz+lemon+swindle.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 355px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy5V3JgQjTc-jh9nY9NBsmPFymotCy3kkKXxuX-DUPk_Q0OMKd2JH0RdMB-ynL8lMcsYlKCq6Ne80jzUgs2rRZDEoAGNrdUsyeHXVPjODqDZUM9OOLWajA9OHxlJHcWPy1anCrrHlHq-IC/s400/liz+lemon+swindle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689543235736107922" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span ><i>"You can never truly enjoy Christmas until you can look up into the Father's face and tell him you have received His Christmas gift."</i> ~</span><span >John R. Rice</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span >Here it is almost Christmas eve {already!} and I wanted to take a minute to reflect and be grateful, once again, for the most precious Christmas gift ever given. And it was given to each of us: to <i>all</i> of us! </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span >Jesus was not only the baby born under miraculous circumstances, nor was He only a master teacher. He was an exemplar, a friend, a guide, and probably most important, He is the one who willingly carried the burden of our sins, our pains, our fears, our frustrations: He is the one who understands our every fear, our heartbreak, and every feeling that we have had or will have. And because He carried those burdens for us, our yokes<i> are </i>easy and our burdens <i>are</i> light.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span >I am so grateful for His miraculous birth that we celebrate at Christmas but more, I am grateful for His life, His death, and His atoning sacrifice which is His all-encompassing gift to each of us: the prospect of eternal life. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span >Let earth r<i>eceive</i> her king! Let each of <i>us</i> receive our king! </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span >Merry Christmas!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span >beautiful picture by <a href="http://lizlemonswindle.com">Liz Lemon Swindle</a></span></span></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-55741509108493093452011-12-01T21:15:00.008-06:002011-12-04T22:52:29.093-06:00Happy Anniversary!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvPVOjmB1EpYRlTEsrMFfH5LxLCVpLQcNqzZGsGS-NGAE2hxB-JxTeADJiu6L4u8oojEER4gyOhkuv42DEGTOL8TL1ODaahMQPFT7AYjw1S9QjWhR1NGw5ilbHJfStVS2OHioIm4kiMcCM/s1600/64820_486458755930_523465930_7455344_3155583_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvPVOjmB1EpYRlTEsrMFfH5LxLCVpLQcNqzZGsGS-NGAE2hxB-JxTeADJiu6L4u8oojEER4gyOhkuv42DEGTOL8TL1ODaahMQPFT7AYjw1S9QjWhR1NGw5ilbHJfStVS2OHioIm4kiMcCM/s400/64820_486458755930_523465930_7455344_3155583_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681368663291585890" /></a><i>"Sometimes two people stay together for the sake of the kids -- two kids who sat under a full moon and pledged to be forever true."</i> ~<a href="http://www.blogger.com/robertbrault.com"><span class="Apple-style-span">Robert Brault</span></a><div><br /></div><div>I am a real fan of Robert Brault. He has a gift of words that I wish I had. Since I don't, I enjoy <i>his</i> gift and the above quote has been on my mind ever since I read it. I suspect it's because we (Mark and I) are nearly ready (on Dec. 21) to celebrate our (gulp!) 37th anniversary. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was just telling our <a href="http://www.100percentcottam.com">Natalie</a> that back when we were dating (when we were those <i>kids</i>!), I wasn't particularly careful, cautious or prayerful about who I chose. I just got lucky and fell in love with the right man. And I was equally lucky that he fell in love with me, too.</div><div><br /></div><div>We have had a huge variety of experiences together as we have zig-zagged back and forth across the country. Life has been full of learning together -- through all kinds of experiences, some wonderful and some not so great. I am so grateful for him in my life. He has been and continues to be the constant that I lean on in every circumstance. There are things we have been through together that I could not have handled without him. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mark is smart, funny, spiritually in tune, a hard worker, devoted to his family, a great dad and a super wonderful Grandpa. (Who else would not only<i> go along</i> with regular phone calls to his office line during working hours so that a precious 3 year old can hear him say "Hi, Simey!" but be <i>thrilled</i> with the opportunity?!) He works so hard for us and would do anything for anyone who needed his help. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am grateful that when we met, I was behaving well enough that he wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him. And that now, knowing what he knows about me (37 years worth, and it's not all good!), I feel blessed that he's willing to go on - -as far as we can go -- together.</div><div><br /></div><div>And I get to keep him. I am blessed, for sure. </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-36106183063710242582011-11-06T21:48:00.008-06:002011-11-06T22:08:04.442-06:00Running Against the Wind<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-D8GdPFN2Lng-P6uV5twxm2E6L58lWmQkCXfEUxXLsLdRfdLt07b3Z3sqk1oGXcFgB1z2uXbtxsP8s8mON2V-wLsVIMC0ETYF-61ScNVkbPEUfxJfU0kCYCsILSg-whp_NEEv_Np_YxZh/s1600/wind.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-D8GdPFN2Lng-P6uV5twxm2E6L58lWmQkCXfEUxXLsLdRfdLt07b3Z3sqk1oGXcFgB1z2uXbtxsP8s8mON2V-wLsVIMC0ETYF-61ScNVkbPEUfxJfU0kCYCsILSg-whp_NEEv_Np_YxZh/s400/wind.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672099677489121458" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">As I did my (nearly) 4 mile run (seriously felt more like I was <i>trudging</i>!) yesterday, I had a bit of an epiphany. It's fall here (on the <i style="text-align: left; ">calendar,</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left; "> anyhow - not necessarily temperature wise)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left; "> and we have cooled down slightly. We also have had a bit of wind. Not much, mind you, and not anything that someone raised in Southern Alberta should even </span><i style="text-align: left; ">dare</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left; "> to call a wind -- but enough to notice when you're running against it.</span></div><div><br /></div><div>So yesterday, as I did my 4 mile run (remember? the trudge!), I was acutely aware of the wind. But I only <i>really</i> noticed it when I was running against it. It pushed me back and I had to work extra hard to get myself up the Austin hills (we do live in the 'Hill Country' here). I can tell you that I <i>resented</i> that wind. It made me cranky and (obviously) it made my tired legs <i>more </i>tired and there was some serious gasping going on as well.</div><div><br /></div><div>What I found interesting, though, is that when I was running with the wind at my <i>back</i>, it didn't feel like much of a wind. Just a little push in the right direction.</div><div><br /></div><div>And that's when I had the epiphany. It's just like life. When we are running against the wind, and things are hard, we are totally aware of the opposition. We are frustrated by it, we are tired by it, and it makes us want to give up.</div><div><br /></div><div>But when that wind is at our back, gently pushing us along our chosen path? We rarely notice it. And that's my point. I want to be <i>aware</i> of that wind at my back, gently moving me along the path of my life. I want to be aware and I want to be grateful.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have so much to appreciate and to be grateful for, and this Thanksgiving month is a great time to reflect on that wind that is at my back so much of the time. </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-76064969498537002052011-10-26T20:07:00.010-05:002011-10-26T20:24:16.375-05:00Feeling Grateful<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_1HOfVptvqcNukkcyyEZ8QBAn6j2ygXl-Jy83L-7yGu_V3ZbMRADZo1fp-bzO8czKuOxrb7Eefr0jlsseYvd3CzkSeQDzarW18mWzFxDxpVEghFomzmcfC3-eP44k4xBup2TAUQ6OdBj/s1600/311829_10150433666687049_61144507048_10166333_535646629_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik_1HOfVptvqcNukkcyyEZ8QBAn6j2ygXl-Jy83L-7yGu_V3ZbMRADZo1fp-bzO8czKuOxrb7Eefr0jlsseYvd3CzkSeQDzarW18mWzFxDxpVEghFomzmcfC3-eP44k4xBup2TAUQ6OdBj/s400/311829_10150433666687049_61144507048_10166333_535646629_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667974770005116082" /></a>I have had the privilege recently to be an accompanist for a "<a href="http://www.blogger.com/tofw.com">Time Out for Women"</a> presenter. She has a great message to share and she tells her story both with words and with music. I have traveled with her to Nashville {which I loved because we still have sweet ties to that place}, to Pocatello {which I loved because a wonderful former seminary student from Reno lives there now and I got to spend the 2 days with her}, and recently to Reno. We have loved and enjoyed all the places we've lived, but Reno has a special place in my heart because it's there that I taught not just 1 seminary class a day, but 2 -- and I was the Primary chorister as well, in a really wonderful, loving ward that took great care of me while I was seriously ill. So we have so many sweet memories of Reno, as well as some ties that will never be cut. <div><br /></div><div>It was such a gift to be back there, and to catch up with so many people that I love. I think the sweetest thing has been to realize that while I remember and love many Reno friends - -the reality is that they remember and love me too. That's not something I consider very often. I have always felt that when we leave an area, we probably don't cross the minds of those we have left behind very often. I cherish all the friends we have made but haven't <i>ever</i> assumed that they remember me.</div><div><br /></div><div>My Reno visit proved me wrong. I was humbled to find so many people there that still remember me (???) and love me and it touched my heart in a way that I will never forget.</div><div><br /></div><div>What a sweet blessing to know that these people, who mean so much to me and who I will always remember and love -- remember me too. It was a lovely weekend.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">**Me with a former seminary student and friend, Amber. She's not only beautiful, but wonderful too. </span> </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-87190382815754156092011-09-17T20:56:00.007-05:002011-09-20T19:42:41.744-05:00I Can Do It!I am so proud of myself. I just finished week 9, day 1 of Couch to 5K - -and I flew today. Really felt like I had wings on my feet. The weather has cooled down slightly {by that I mean we are in the 90's instead of the 100's - but I do feel the difference!}and I am feeling like I could run and run and run. <div><br /></div><div>I didn't do that because I am convinced that this couch to 5K program really works, so I am continuing to follow it exactly. But this week is my last one {the program ends - -and I will have finished it!} and I will be on my own after that. What I have learned over this nearly 9 weeks that I've been back running is that I <i>can</i> do it. And in conjunction with that, I have also realized that I can do <i>anything</i> I put my mind to do. Right now, that means I can run for 30 minutes without a break and that feels good.</div><div><br /></div><div>My body might be old{er} but I am happy to announce that it will do whatever I ask it to do, as long as I take good care of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Great news, right?!!</div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-32772608618487779872011-08-26T15:34:00.005-05:002011-08-26T15:48:45.568-05:00I'm Still a Runner! (Who knew?)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKcWHFcfNYuLHrn_8_A7VcRrA0_WvRAFcPGco1EH4WXPT7_W6fGergl-SJB-auR94ucXhYivPqM0Mh9JyRb0Acdd777BFsfNgK45fjWvBnwLWg0Ty2xklLxhuI6RzHJjp9DpImdEg72bv/s1600/mizuno_running.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKcWHFcfNYuLHrn_8_A7VcRrA0_WvRAFcPGco1EH4WXPT7_W6fGergl-SJB-auR94ucXhYivPqM0Mh9JyRb0Acdd777BFsfNgK45fjWvBnwLWg0Ty2xklLxhuI6RzHJjp9DpImdEg72bv/s400/mizuno_running.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645268483878177922" /></a>Anyone who knows me at all knows a couple of things about me - -that I was an avid runner {think 6 - 7 miles a day, pretty much 6 days a week} for many years. Like probably 15 or so. Maybe more. I loved running. I started out walking and eventually, just to make things more interesting, would challenge myself to 'run to that tree' or 'run to the corner'. After that, I got competitive with myself and would see how much faster I could do my regular route than the day before. And I got hooked. I loved running.<div>
<br /></div><div>Fast-forward to our move here in 2004: heredity + years of running = foot problems. I had a couple of surgeries and decided I could not keep running as my feet hurt 100% of the time. So I switched my allegiance to the elliptical machine which is great exercise, and is weight-bearing without impact. I learned {after quite some time} to love the elliptical too. I pretty much spend an hour a day 5x a week on our elliptical machine. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>But recently, my <a href="http://100percentcottam.com">Natalie</a> decided she wanted to be a runner, so she got herself the <a href="http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml">Couch to 5K</a> app for her phone and took off. It was hard for her at first, but she persisted - - and now {you can see it coming, right?} she is hooked on running and loves it. She's training for a half-marathon in December. I am so proud of her. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>So then, she encouraged her dad to try that same program. Not to be left out, I got it on my phone, and we decided to do it together. Mostly, I was doing it to encourage Mark and to spend a little more time with him. We did great for the first 4 weeks, but at that point, Mark's knee pretty much gave out on him and he is seeing an orthopedic doc on Monday. So he's out. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>But me? About that same time {4 weeks in} my body made it clear to me that it remembered that I<i> am</i> a runner. And I am. <i>I am still a runner</i>. I have now nearly completed week 5 and plan to continue and will do a 5K in October. Natalie is encouraging me to train for that same half-marathon in December. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Not sure if I will get there or not. But what I am sure of is that I have missed running and my body knows it. It makes me happy. And my feet? Well, they hurt all the time anyhow and it's no worse when I"m running. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>So I am running again, and loving it. </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-30154170630566071892011-08-18T15:21:00.001-05:002011-08-18T15:27:30.375-05:00It's my Birthday!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuwe5yKMlcKKmitBoKn15yThcEwACGKHnTzUs75GHSVmXu7A2HlpiYwhkMErdHoEbsppQncxa1R1sYuHZrfu2XMAiQ2SwrspZ7sBPNSlmsGTct4-1f57qCDU2Fyc1cOTd2SCQ-SkAWZT2/s1600/birthday-cupcake.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuwe5yKMlcKKmitBoKn15yThcEwACGKHnTzUs75GHSVmXu7A2HlpiYwhkMErdHoEbsppQncxa1R1sYuHZrfu2XMAiQ2SwrspZ7sBPNSlmsGTct4-1f57qCDU2Fyc1cOTd2SCQ-SkAWZT2/s400/birthday-cupcake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642294709068489570" /></a>I guess that last post about aging leads right into this one - it's my birthday today! <div>
<br /></div><div>I can't say that I'm 'happy' to be another year older but I do appreciate being another year smarter, despite the wrinkles that seem to accompany anything I do anymore. I have so much to appreciate and to be grateful for and it just seems to get better.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I have a wonderful family: parents, siblings, in-laws (I pretty much just count them all as siblings, I think!), husband, children, more in-laws (again, just <i>family</i> in my mind) and now grandchildren. The older I get the more I appreciate the great family I came from, the great family Mark came from, and the fact that we have been able to create a great family of our own. I love them all dearly.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I have so many dear friends. I kind of consider myself a bit of a hermit -- but over time, I have made so many wonderful friends -- again, people I pretty much consider <i>family</i>. Another thing that I have learned is that <i>people</i> are what really matter in life. <i>Things</i> are fine, but people are what make our lives fuller and richer in every way.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I'm grateful for pretty good health at this point. I've definitely had my share of ups and downs in the health area, but I am so thankful that right now, I can do whatever I choose to do, as long as I put my mind to it. I am running again and that makes me more happy than I would have thought. I'm so grateful to Natalie for encouraging both Mark and I to try it (for me, <i>again</i> -- for him, the first time) and that my body knew all along that I was a runner -- I've just been on hiatus!</div><div>
<br /></div><div>So happy birthday to me! And I'm hoping for a zillion more!</div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-87592584985715622162011-07-22T14:46:00.007-05:002011-07-22T14:56:45.930-05:00Aging<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0PWf23GudGCGbU99DCQEZOEtDI7wCsNqA9KgL2p3JbbYJLp-pFbN1FFYvt8yjHEatLhFVLUjes1hFLPcGR8SqBCFPjutFw3UTRtqbl_sBUK3vIE8X6lnSGGk-XLq4WotfuH01Uw4zpO-q/s1600/ME+aging.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0PWf23GudGCGbU99DCQEZOEtDI7wCsNqA9KgL2p3JbbYJLp-pFbN1FFYvt8yjHEatLhFVLUjes1hFLPcGR8SqBCFPjutFw3UTRtqbl_sBUK3vIE8X6lnSGGk-XLq4WotfuH01Uw4zpO-q/s400/ME+aging.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632267957279349762" /></a><i>"Aging seems to be the only available way to live a longer life."</i> ~<span class="Apple-style-span" >D.F.E. Auber</span><div><br /></div><div>I found this quote on one of my calendar pages recently and while it made me laugh at first, it kind of struck a chord with me. My dad will be 88 on August 3 and my mom is 86 and they are not enjoying aging because of all the things that go along with it. They both use walkers now, Dad is in pretty much constant pain and has a hard time getting around. Mom is on oxygen 100% of the time and has a pacemaker along with other physical limitations. Neither of them is loving this season of their life, as it's frustrating to them to not be able to do everything they'd like to do. </div><div><br /></div><div>I really hate seeing them be this restricted at this point. After all, they were (and are) wonderful parents, active, responsible members of the Church and always made a great contribution to whatever they were involved in (and it was a lot!). I wish for them that they could do more of the things they'd like to do. </div><div><br /></div><div>But on the other hand, I suspect (just from my own personal experience in this area!) that what they are experiencing is exactly what comes of living a long, full life. And the alternative is not a great one. </div><div><br /></div><div>It makes the reminders my mom gives us very real: "<i>Make sure you do everything you want to do and see everything you want to see before you can't do it anymore.</i>" She is grateful that they<i> did</i> go and do a lot of things while they still could. </div><div><br /></div><div>I intend to do that, and for now, I'm grateful that I have both of them still here on the earth with us.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >*picture by Mary Engelbreit</span></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-63801360543121146272011-07-11T14:07:00.004-05:002011-07-11T14:13:20.798-05:00Dinner<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxit_fCYNCWB2OWFQvzvw-z4Iaboap1_Fjrhkvfr1-XtIQowv2AoNi9Rg1lpYFamC5Hc1kCfdRwOWlIWt_D_a4HWZkm4ddaqNcSsNO-ZROkCTWYjoF0BC5JtyoYr-ioiXJRHxhV4M9EJd/s1600/dinner+avoidance.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxit_fCYNCWB2OWFQvzvw-z4Iaboap1_Fjrhkvfr1-XtIQowv2AoNi9Rg1lpYFamC5Hc1kCfdRwOWlIWt_D_a4HWZkm4ddaqNcSsNO-ZROkCTWYjoF0BC5JtyoYr-ioiXJRHxhV4M9EJd/s400/dinner+avoidance.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628174189271960322" /></a>I'm consistently amazed at how much I hate fixing dinner. Really, though, the actual <i>fixing</i> isn't my biggest problem {although it definitely <i>is</i> a problem!} -- mostly it's deciding <i>what</i> to fix that is my biggest problem. <div><br /></div><div>To be fair to Mark, it's not his responsibility to fix dinner {he does go to work all day, every day!} -- but this little cartoon is a great illustration of how we both seem at dinner time. Mostly we'd rather eat <i>nothing</i> than have to fix<i> something</i> {anything!}.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lame. We are <i>lame</i>.</div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-43759258871268069222011-07-01T09:29:00.010-05:002011-07-01T10:01:37.077-05:00Home is Where the Heart Is<div>I just returned from a week up in Alberta {or as Natalie calls it, being called back to the mothership!} with my family. I had a wonderful time visiting with my mom and dad, my sister, brother-in-law, nephews and niece-in-laws and even got to help celebrate baby Oliver's 1st birthday.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>I know I've said it before but there is truly something that draws me back to that area and it's not just <i>family</i> although that is without a doubt the most important thing. As I drove around Lethbridge with my parents and saw the change and growth there, I realized that that area is my <i>heritage</i>. There is a part of me there and always will be, even though I know I will never live there again.</div><div><br /></div><div>And when Val, Keith and I spent a day and a half in Waterton I realized even more {despite the fact that Billy the Goat and his family, the mountain sheep as well as their <i>deer</i> friends had invaded the townsite} that there is something of me there as well.</div><div><br /></div><div>So today, on Canada Day {Happy Canada Day!}, I am grateful for the heritage that I have, the family I was raised in, the love that I feel for them all and from them all, and the fact that I have now two wonderful countries to call home.</div></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBEP72p9Uy-ZuhGGL5yQAVZYNwR6tzlofnoTpTuDFe4uFm6OpToKKqSBC7z4JSvCAim3_EyWV0Kx624UKLIKfc_gpe0JO-e6h9ePBnuRI00qN0ZJr7hYtUYmC4s3V0WpbnqOZS_aMzEXuZ/s1600/Billy%2521%2521.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBEP72p9Uy-ZuhGGL5yQAVZYNwR6tzlofnoTpTuDFe4uFm6OpToKKqSBC7z4JSvCAim3_EyWV0Kx624UKLIKfc_gpe0JO-e6h9ePBnuRI00qN0ZJr7hYtUYmC4s3V0WpbnqOZS_aMzEXuZ/s400/Billy%2521%2521.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396973997393026" /></a>Here's Billy!! The sheep were everywhere -- places I'd never seen them and they were pretty aggressive. Made me quite nervous!<div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGnb3C6gZsdR6NL8XbZgGqYoOHw3t25e94_oqkcxKpD6uxmiZYj06JpKN7ixda1TDU4yvV5Sg0042xkEnhPze5kZJ9nif8O8-XQ4qyMAI_yw9aaHcIb4b1KpnYDIcDONVWdN5GjJyHrPL9/s1600/Waterton+2011+13.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGnb3C6gZsdR6NL8XbZgGqYoOHw3t25e94_oqkcxKpD6uxmiZYj06JpKN7ixda1TDU4yvV5Sg0042xkEnhPze5kZJ9nif8O8-XQ4qyMAI_yw9aaHcIb4b1KpnYDIcDONVWdN5GjJyHrPL9/s400/Waterton+2011+13.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396970486721634" /></a>Looking down on Waterton from above -- as we drove back down from Cameron Lake.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Rx8ZHyZQNqK6ihvEKGqqQZ9CrJw9bCArfhGoGaNc1RK3BKPVRArcHJDk9kwG3GttCVVer01Mn1eWfOvLtg3zMGHYqO7TludK2UqLXEXvoXva5kc6qe1CmXnZxty3ZGbi6pD6RGlO79U_/s1600/Waterton+2011+12.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Rx8ZHyZQNqK6ihvEKGqqQZ9CrJw9bCArfhGoGaNc1RK3BKPVRArcHJDk9kwG3GttCVVer01Mn1eWfOvLtg3zMGHYqO7TludK2UqLXEXvoXva5kc6qe1CmXnZxty3ZGbi6pD6RGlO79U_/s400/Waterton+2011+12.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396966243838034" /></a>Gorgeous blue water.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFmVH5AhiL8IiGnSOrsq3Mw6Y-ERpzOTbE6CmD7wqHm4SspIsAX9cx63qsnPLfNxpTDVqxLUpdUllZfWZLh2YjpWERPvTtgHtruIh9xarjyRdVO2qFN4QWpbxmPzxgkCyLtT9JD3OcQks/s1600/Waterton+2011+11.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFmVH5AhiL8IiGnSOrsq3Mw6Y-ERpzOTbE6CmD7wqHm4SspIsAX9cx63qsnPLfNxpTDVqxLUpdUllZfWZLh2YjpWERPvTtgHtruIh9xarjyRdVO2qFN4QWpbxmPzxgkCyLtT9JD3OcQks/s400/Waterton+2011+11.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396961597897714" /></a>Val and Keith - my cute sister and her husband at the still {surprisingly} frozen Cameron Lake.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7tvOMnRllP9rdjQxP5jutAqq1Icb6FAbCbruv3UdC8YZUt35UzFVkYpZ3Srt7BEvM04lJlEA7bivwuAr6G8biFxEkK6ypMagYsF4oP5C4WRKk0JNyioyou2hyUxmeLGPmHAQZSbVZG81s/s1600/Waterton+2011+10.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7tvOMnRllP9rdjQxP5jutAqq1Icb6FAbCbruv3UdC8YZUt35UzFVkYpZ3Srt7BEvM04lJlEA7bivwuAr6G8biFxEkK6ypMagYsF4oP5C4WRKk0JNyioyou2hyUxmeLGPmHAQZSbVZG81s/s400/Waterton+2011+10.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396626410318786" /></a>Beautiful!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh54Dq6cMWMjMZd-Mm64MpPMHx85CaMi88h6e9GKDaRqCkouzOruPeB0y9_p1DqhbID805eYQfGD_EkkFibaV2IyCG0WvguN8zaxDuWztDXKilrIqxaSU-MGERwGVFk-y3dB3UWplEU4Gyw/s1600/Waterton+2011+9.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh54Dq6cMWMjMZd-Mm64MpPMHx85CaMi88h6e9GKDaRqCkouzOruPeB0y9_p1DqhbID805eYQfGD_EkkFibaV2IyCG0WvguN8zaxDuWztDXKilrIqxaSU-MGERwGVFk-y3dB3UWplEU4Gyw/s400/Waterton+2011+9.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396620261578514" /></a>See Old Chief Mountain? Lovely!</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2ePiRoLY5J39dVgK6ZG_s-xGykU8893qWEhC0m7hZ7NFDC0Ornf5xSwJs28AVMIYUDDjasVbu2qM-kL-OH8gFjM_5t0THvc-oSNruSsRn86kbQ2G0MNI4lVjY5656OSzDXmUzq-1kZ3B/s1600/Waterton+2011+8.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2ePiRoLY5J39dVgK6ZG_s-xGykU8893qWEhC0m7hZ7NFDC0Ornf5xSwJs28AVMIYUDDjasVbu2qM-kL-OH8gFjM_5t0THvc-oSNruSsRn86kbQ2G0MNI4lVjY5656OSzDXmUzq-1kZ3B/s400/Waterton+2011+8.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396617536422146" /></a>Clearly I can love both the US and Canada.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6xNqyggUfLVI6nJ2gEqcHgjcYeJL_RnHz3_L4C2qTzTI6L-LIMHej6w2f_fki129I0-4s-qZV_a-BZfB4LahPGu4QDqTf4HpH1w6mDrxoUejVr2qVOqvYgkEvBSiC9Bawr4YxfJM9f07/s1600/Waterton+2011+7.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6xNqyggUfLVI6nJ2gEqcHgjcYeJL_RnHz3_L4C2qTzTI6L-LIMHej6w2f_fki129I0-4s-qZV_a-BZfB4LahPGu4QDqTf4HpH1w6mDrxoUejVr2qVOqvYgkEvBSiC9Bawr4YxfJM9f07/s400/Waterton+2011+7.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396600114554978" /></a>Again, just lovely.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MzzumBTxq7xvw6UuwoT5CJvWAaO7FJEudg9937Z1N4ALsiRMw-Q5Jpl_lNNLwydi5D-vXmWjQsMGojBuRFl4gQeeVJ6PIiaoTK6yFRvHDGw28FyY7yQKT28NP1_gkMghgo7_TRxoJrhK/s1600/waterton+2011+6.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7MzzumBTxq7xvw6UuwoT5CJvWAaO7FJEudg9937Z1N4ALsiRMw-Q5Jpl_lNNLwydi5D-vXmWjQsMGojBuRFl4gQeeVJ6PIiaoTK6yFRvHDGw28FyY7yQKT28NP1_gkMghgo7_TRxoJrhK/s400/waterton+2011+6.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396595403951970" /></a>Prince of Wales Hotel in the distance, where I worked, more years ago than I can believe.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwenePctn6e3bcfz1cdTWs0fvwmi6KG0K0JM3oKWLf897ofy_bTjFpb_KMBOoX5RseSk36axeVFLk0akg9XbouU39ctEBqHO50g8vfbIk1rFZiI9mk6JqF8IJ54fpI2EjKQHN9Mhgi2Zl/s1600/Waterton+2011+5.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwenePctn6e3bcfz1cdTWs0fvwmi6KG0K0JM3oKWLf897ofy_bTjFpb_KMBOoX5RseSk36axeVFLk0akg9XbouU39ctEBqHO50g8vfbIk1rFZiI9mk6JqF8IJ54fpI2EjKQHN9Mhgi2Zl/s400/Waterton+2011+5.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396274156090114" /></a>Val and I. Isn't she gorgeous?</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBWCHlwOfwAwfVKzYPXdJ1Kve_IvcFyJZzF2B113gBLHTHLBT-CGx_eHa2MuHyghtDhSKiiuaGxWpiden-MUxXei_e67GxIYUHIbcsV8p2799LnZlwd_xmi5RwmFmPnh9kfgT0NivYmdoK/s1600/Waterton+2011+4.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBWCHlwOfwAwfVKzYPXdJ1Kve_IvcFyJZzF2B113gBLHTHLBT-CGx_eHa2MuHyghtDhSKiiuaGxWpiden-MUxXei_e67GxIYUHIbcsV8p2799LnZlwd_xmi5RwmFmPnh9kfgT0NivYmdoK/s400/Waterton+2011+4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396270390370562" /></a>More of us. I love her!</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDRe6BpgEebCTP_KAD5iKoY7BC1qrXI04LWb3g9jMmTmaorKm_QDk4xgF1ejQMfgTzaBdcy16bNrUld3c8FUKWJObPrgJjeJkKiGhQfppv7gF8rub-OYl6Y46_Xjt0LrdiYivG4J2hyF9/s1600/Waterton+2011+3.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMDRe6BpgEebCTP_KAD5iKoY7BC1qrXI04LWb3g9jMmTmaorKm_QDk4xgF1ejQMfgTzaBdcy16bNrUld3c8FUKWJObPrgJjeJkKiGhQfppv7gF8rub-OYl6Y46_Xjt0LrdiYivG4J2hyF9/s400/Waterton+2011+3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396263054446466" /></a>Me, standing by Cameron Falls in the Waterton townsite.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9YHPbSuEjktB1Hd7a1AR6rmYxcBSPLCDzbCOYCn3QgEIXVwiqFz1JGZUnwFFhHpbXbxvy2U65xQnSbrfK5IJkvSzWDs4v0lQjn84zN7WJAe0In1g5nxoE8wvQ_P70fvD8eU8eE70epUSS/s1600/Waterton+2011+2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9YHPbSuEjktB1Hd7a1AR6rmYxcBSPLCDzbCOYCn3QgEIXVwiqFz1JGZUnwFFhHpbXbxvy2U65xQnSbrfK5IJkvSzWDs4v0lQjn84zN7WJAe0In1g5nxoE8wvQ_P70fvD8eU8eE70epUSS/s400/Waterton+2011+2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624396261077894594" /></a>Keith and I, with the mountains in the background. He's the best.</div><div><br /></div><div>**all pictures taken by my sister, Val Walker</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-70507327227269453022011-06-01T10:03:00.006-05:002011-06-01T10:12:03.548-05:00Changing Hearts<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPq60f6aU9imVLRx6JmDm3DQ06cZY98V5h7rU8LtdRHy2XDdbSRv0FIuKpgsXIjrc9c7GIYYSGFDvSXz_0TDYtrnCMV1ZGcXmUlS7Joz51yBFMaIH9IbFijxV2yzvgeFLtnwndr6Q0GKl4/s1600/Jesus+and+child.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPq60f6aU9imVLRx6JmDm3DQ06cZY98V5h7rU8LtdRHy2XDdbSRv0FIuKpgsXIjrc9c7GIYYSGFDvSXz_0TDYtrnCMV1ZGcXmUlS7Joz51yBFMaIH9IbFijxV2yzvgeFLtnwndr6Q0GKl4/s400/Jesus+and+child.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613268715999679890" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia, arial; "><p style="text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><i style="font-size: medium; ">"We discover he is more than the babe in Bethlehem, more than the carpenter’s son, more than the greatest teacher ever to live. We come to know him as the <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1306940441_0" style="color: rgb(54, 99, 136); cursor: pointer; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: initial; border-bottom-color: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; ">Son of God</span>. He never fashioned a statue, painted a picture, wrote a poem, or led an army. He never wore a crown or held a scepter or threw around his shoulder a purple robe. His forgiveness was unbounded, his patience inexhaustible, his courage without limit. Jesus changed men. He changed their habits, their opinions, their ambitions. He changed their tempers, their dispositions, their natures. He changed men’s hearts."</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" >~</span><span class="Apple-style-span" >Thomas S. Monson</span></span></span></p><p style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;">I'm such a slacker -- no posts in such a long time! I guess I feel like I don't live a terribly exciting life although I do love the life I am living, for the most part.</span></span></p><p style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;">I also<i> love</i> the above quote and it spoke so clearly to me today. Our Savior Jesus Christ always focused on what really matters: what happens in our <i>hearts</i>. He is the only way a heart can change. </span></span></p><p style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;">I continue to strive to be more like Him: more forgiving, more patient, more kind, more courageous and more loving. </span></span></p><p style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="font-size: medium; text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;">And I need those changes.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; " ><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: -webkit-auto; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; " >picture by Greg Olsen</span></span></p><center style="font-size: medium; "></center></span>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-12239530905543051022011-04-18T14:09:00.007-05:002011-04-21T11:14:07.175-05:00We are the Easter People<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnj5xB7AiQdw_eyxur8Co9ANeVHSJdtwTP-pBh4ZirpPvp8lapcz61iizsP1vZvCAKTP2Tuss6tRHPeHGJWteFcItnngdzF2DtMEwS4CevSYRaz_G5Tl6IfGbRr1klOYRoqGnt6UUQFRW/s1600/He_is_risen_zoom.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnj5xB7AiQdw_eyxur8Co9ANeVHSJdtwTP-pBh4ZirpPvp8lapcz61iizsP1vZvCAKTP2Tuss6tRHPeHGJWteFcItnngdzF2DtMEwS4CevSYRaz_G5Tl6IfGbRr1klOYRoqGnt6UUQFRW/s400/He_is_risen_zoom.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597043077425668578" /></a><i>"Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people, and hallelujah is our song.</i>"~<span class="Apple-style-span">Pope John Paul II</span><div><br /></div><div>I can't begin to say how much I love this quote. We <i>are</i> the Easter people! We really are, and hallelujah really <i>is</i> our song. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's Easter week {finally - -seems like it's very late this year!} and I have had my Easter thoughts bubbling up for the past few weeks. I had a sort of epiphany recently as I was saying my morning prayers, expressing my gratitude for all that I <i>have</i>. But it hit me that I need to be grateful more for what I <i>know</i>, rather than what I <i>have</i>. I have many blessings, and I am grateful for all that I do have, but more, I am grateful for what I know.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am so thankful at this time of year that I know that the story we read in the scriptures is more than just a story. The <i>fact</i> is that Jesus was born on earth {in a miraculous way}, He was raised by a mortal mother and father, He taught, served and loved the people on the earth at that time, and eventually, as His mission neared the end, He was taken by unbelievers and crucified. </div><div><br /></div><div>But the glorious fact {here comes the <i>hallelujah</i> part!} is that after 3 days in the tomb, He rose again. And because He did, we will too. And not only that, before he was put to death, he atoned for our sins. Every one of us. Every one of our sins. </div><div><br /></div><div>I <i>am</i> one of the Easter people and hallelujah really <i>is </i>my song. I am SO grateful. </div><div><br /></div><div>At this beautiful time of year and always, I hope everyone will take a minute to reflect and be grateful for a truly magnificent gift. Happy Easter week to all!</div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-24174210258294470262011-04-09T21:18:00.005-05:002011-04-09T21:40:01.639-05:00The Love of a Good Book<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5DyxqX7MdXd6-vU_yJMNwkEIu6RzpYj6e4zcLgtXZVt3s4aiV4VMvVjgcFCiWJgB8B-5VopBf2a5rv_amy2AJEvbZboTbeo04Xe6JINFHDONzgJUNzlESc-ar9ed2kVn7QgQYCkkzFkg-/s1600/489-books.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 395px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5DyxqX7MdXd6-vU_yJMNwkEIu6RzpYj6e4zcLgtXZVt3s4aiV4VMvVjgcFCiWJgB8B-5VopBf2a5rv_amy2AJEvbZboTbeo04Xe6JINFHDONzgJUNzlESc-ar9ed2kVn7QgQYCkkzFkg-/s400/489-books.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593778515183450802" /></a><i>"I would be the most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves.</i>" ~<span class="Apple-style-span" >Anna Quindlen</span><div><br /></div><div>I love reading. I love books. I love the library. And now, I love seeing our grandkiddoes all curled up with their noses buried in good books or chuckling over something that tickled them or hearing their excitement over a book they love. There really isn't much that makes me happier than that. I love reading <i>to</i> them, I love reading <i>with</i> them, and I love hearing them read to me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Books opened a whole new world to me when I was a child, and they still do. And it makes me so happy to see the children I love loving books like I do. </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5050090334035469416.post-5563090803299268172011-04-04T08:47:00.004-05:002011-04-04T08:54:57.336-05:00A New Career -- Clowns! (?!)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgaRj_0KPPm-FnysCqqssChKn_tHEaW14SB8GN51a23NGVeJBYkXPG15ALQ3xULG9jARNUC5vtheZumkK0UrjGFIkJKBxErFQJGzJqJDt6nAvJYkBGfikF2XgCklo98gADsY_US9YQ0nPR/s1600/Carnival+clowns.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgaRj_0KPPm-FnysCqqssChKn_tHEaW14SB8GN51a23NGVeJBYkXPG15ALQ3xULG9jARNUC5vtheZumkK0UrjGFIkJKBxErFQJGzJqJDt6nAvJYkBGfikF2XgCklo98gADsY_US9YQ0nPR/s400/Carnival+clowns.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591725947881764738" /></a>This past Friday, the Cottam kids and their neighbors threw an awesome carnival for charity. The kids came up with the idea and with the (awesome) help of several mamas, they ran with it. It was amazing. Booths with games, fortune-telling, food, fun -- and (wait for it!): a fabulous clown show.<div><br /></div><div>Yes, we were the carnival clowns. Maya came to us the week before the carnival and requested that we put together a 'clown show'. We looked at each other dubiously and then agreed because seriously, when a 7 year old and her cohorts think you can be funny, you suck it up and do your best. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was a bit nervous -- I have been sick for the past couple of weeks and while I was feeling better, I wasn't sure I was going to be very energetic or very funny. But we pulled out the old Raggedy Ann and Andy costumes, found some jokes, got a helium tank for regular balloons, got Mark trained to make a few balloon animals with the skinny balloons (yay for the internet!), and figured if we danced the chicken dance and threw out some necklaces, all would be well. </div><div><br /></div><div>But the chicken dance wouldn't play on the CD I burned and when we tried to do the helium balloons, that didn't work either. Sigh. But the (very corny) jokes were pretty well received, the necklaces were popular, and Grandpa was a hit with his twisty balloon animals. (actually, only wiener dogs -- he's going to up his skills for the next time around.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Because you can be sure there will be a next time. And if we get asked, we will try harder to be funny. As it was, I heard from a neighborhood mom that 'the clowns were our favorite part of the carnival, mom!'</div><div><br /></div><div>I love seeing kids put their minds to something and really do it. </div>Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11202696798578375758noreply@blogger.com8