:Family Matters

So fine t’ was barely there
For eye to see
As it lightly fell to earth
Illumined by setting sun.
One small slightly gray cloud
Sending promise to the dryness
That help was on the way.

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I always enjoy going to Marie’s Ward in West Jordan. People are friendly with admiring comments about Marie that spill over into delight at meeting her parental units and welcoming them as well. There is also the fact that she carries a bag chuck full of goodies because of her need to keep her blood sugar up and so is ready with a healthy snack to be eaten discreetly as need arises which she shares with me if my stomach starts complaining with exuberant growls that have a tendency to be disruptive of the reverent atmosphere that ought to be maintained during Relief Society.

We attended church with her on August 13th, the day after Brooke’s marriage and reception before driving home that afternoon. During class the teacher asked how we had been influenced by the example of someone we knew. Marie responded with the comment that when I first joined the family and there were unkind words being thrown around amongst the children I told them that before a word was ever spoken they needed to ask themselves three things: Is it true. Is it kind. Is it necessary. I also added that it had better be at least two of the three. The teacher made appropriate comments and said that she remembered her mother telling her the same thing as she was growing up. (This made sense as they are roughly the same age and the thought wasn’t original with me.)

In thinking about that bit of advice I delved back into the archives of my memory and dredged up where I had first heard this. When we moved to Iowa mother and father left the many warm friends they had at church in Arizona not to mention extended family as well. Mother especially longed for contact with the greater church as I imagine it was quite hard for her to be the subject of so much talk and speculation in the new community in which she found herself living. I must here interject this little story: One of the first things she did upon moving into the big old frame farm house was to paint the house a pastel green which right there was a departure from the more traditional white. She then added insult to injury by having the bob tailed barn painted the same color. You must also know that we drove a green studebaker sedan and dad’s pick-up was green as well. This fact was duly noted and the conclusion that was reached by those observing all this was that this was because we were “Mormon’s” and green must have a special significance in our faith. We were the subject of intense interest and everything that we did was watched carefully.

This has nothing to do with what I started out with but as you all know I have never made much of a fashion statement but once, just once, I influenced the other girls who were soon copying an item of clothing that I was wearing. When we moved girls in Arizona were wearing big full circle skirts, think poodle, which were kept poofed out by petticoats made with yards and yards of net. These had never been seen in the small school which I found myself attending and for a few minutes Iwas subjected to intense questioning by the girls as to what I was wearing that made my skirt stick out so far and where they could get their hands on similar items. You have to remember that this was before t.v. made fashions popular across the whole of the United States instantaneously so I guess one could say that I have indeed had my fifteen minutes of fame by bringing poofy petticoats to rural Iowa.

At that time in the church, which had a much smaller membership than it does now, it was not at all uncommon to have a general authority travel thoughout the missions of the church giving a series of talks to the members who would often travel long distances to hear them speak. Remember that this was long before our current ability to broadcast to all corners of the earth via satellite. Mother was so delighted whenever this happened that she spared no effort to attend as many of the meetings as she could taking her daughters along with her as well. One of the speakers we heard was Marion D. Hanks who became a great personal favorite of mine in all probablility because of my listening to him as a teenager on these trips of hers. It was Brother Hanks who gave the wise counsel about watching what one said and learning to think before speaking. I wish I could say that I saw the ‘error’ of my ways and never uttered an unkind word again in my life but unfortunately this didn’t happen. But I know that mother reminded all four of us many times to watch what we had to say to each other and used Brother Hanks quote to give added authority to her words.

Just as a point of interest–dad’s favorite song was, Let Us All Speak Kind Words To Each Other.

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Brooke is now married. Bonnie and I realized that one-third of our kids don’t even have the same last name as we do anymore.

Our back yard looks pretty good at the moment (because of our preparations for the wedding reception, which we held there), but that won’t last long. As I put it to Bonnie, “Why are we working so hard to make 300 people think we take care of our yard, especially when 200 of them already know we don’t?”

It was a great experience, though, to have everyone in the family pitching in and helping. We got more work out of Brett in the first four weeks after he left home than we had in the four years before that (he and Rob would come home on Saturdays from Provo and work all day long fixing things up for the wedding). I’m proud to note that I even had my mother-in-law out shoveling gravel! True story — I had dumped several wheel-barrel loads of gravel along the sides of the driveway, and it bothered her that I let it sit for a few days without raking it smooth, so she went out with a shovel and rake and did it for me. She could only go for about 10 minutes at a time, and would come back in panting, and flop on the couch for a half hour or so before going out for another run at it. By the time I got home from work and found what she was doing, she was half-way done, and I didn’t have the heart to go finish it, so I let her complete the job. Now, I challenge anyone else to get your mother-in-law to go out and shovel gravel in your yard!

Rob and Brett are spending a couple of weeks during the semester break touring Europe. Rob had enough frequent flier miles and points to get a free flight for both him and Brett, and to get free hotels for the two of them - so all they have to pay for are food and train tickets. They will travel through Germany, France, and England for sure, and see if they have time for anything else.

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Friday last I rode with MGH to Delta where he is conducting a feeding experiment with one of the local farmers. I always enjoy spending time with my husband and so the two plus hour drive passes quite enjoyably for me, at least when the roads are good as they are in the summer. Delta is one of the few remaining areas in the state where farming is still in full swing and so it was enjoyable to see the growing crops which included fields of corn which are now in full glory with their tassels standing straight and tall from the ears of corn growing sturdily out the their tough green stalks.

In the middle-west I always measured where we were in summer by the heighth of the corn growing in the fields that surrounded us. Spring planting with bare fields progressing to tiny shoots peeking up from the dark brown earth until by the forth of July they had reached ‘knee high’. Then on through the summer it would grow until the the ears began to form and then the tassels would sprout in August and by late September the ears would be heavy and dry waiting harvest in October. It was always amazing to me to see how much a corn plant could grow over night if conditions were just right. I could lay in bed and hear the stalks as they popped and pushed up and up through the dark. MGH tells me that Dad Cobbs in Indiana used to measure how tall the corn grew over night with eighteen inches in one night holding the record.

Mother, frugal woman that she was, would watch the corn in the field by our house and at just the right stage, would go out and pick fresh corn to cook for a meal or two. We never got too many meals from this field corn as it would quickly lose its tenderness and flavor but for just a few days it was delicious and we could eat as much as we wished.

At any rate, even though I am in a state of denial–as if that would hold the summer here longer–I could tell from the corn I saw this Friday last that summer is almost over.

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When I was a little girl living in Mesa, Arizona our Sunday meetings consisted of Priesthood for the men who, when it was over, would come home and pick up their families and return to church for Sunday School, a process that consumed most of the morning sending us home in time for a mid-day meal. Then there was a break until, I believe seven p.m. when we would return to the chapel for Sacrament meeting which lasted anywhere from and hour and a half to two hours. This practice is no longer followed as church growth has put demands on our chapels to house two or more wards as well as the desire by church leaders to simplify and reduce the time spent on the Sabbath attending meetings and so we began attending meetings in what is known as ‘the block plan’ which is always three hours in length. I think the idea was that we would use the freed up time to spend with our families but people, being people, and choice being a key element of our religion the resulting time freed and its use is as varied as the members of the church.

I didn’t intend to spend so much time explaining meeting schedules past and present–all I really wanted to do was tell you how much mother and father enjoyed their Sunday afternoon naps which in their way were as sacred as meeting time. We children had to be quiet and I do mean quiet as they did not look on noise with any degree of tolerance when they were trying to sleep. Sometimes these naps were quite long and I can remember mother’s dismay a time or two when she would awaken and find ‘bedspread’ marks on her face and arms resulting in vigorous massaging and rubbing of said ‘marks’ in an attempt to make them less noticable. I always wondered why she bothered as many other ward members arrived for the meeting with similar ‘marks’ on their faces.

Personally, I enjoy a good Sunday afternoon nap, a carry over from my childhood I suppose. I got to thinking about all this because in Sunday School this morning the good brother sitting on the same row as me arrived late and promptly fell asleep and the truly amazing thing was that he sat bolt upright the whole time! You might wonder if he wasn’t just ‘resting’ his eyes, which is what MGH assures me he is doing when I give him a poke in the side and tell him he needs to start paying attention and them proves to me that was indeed what he was doing by reciting the last sentence of the teacher or speaker depending on which meeting we are in. But I know this good brother was truly sleeping because he was also snoring–nothing big, mind you, just little tiny snorts that were barely audible. How I envied him as my going to sleep leads to head wobbles that result in massive starts that alert all around me as to my state of awareness but sadly that is not the worst of my troubles as I also snore and not little snores at that but great big LOUD snorts that can be heard over the sound of small babies and children.

This normally isn’t a problem for me, or rather it hasn’t been until the last few years when age and insomnia have caught up with me and I find myself nodding far more frequently than I care to admit, sigh. In fact, I used to be quite smug about my state of awakeness when compared to others around me but no longer as I find myself all too often fighting the urge to sleep as my eyes stop focusing and my eyelids refuse to stay ‘up’. Then the awful wobble alerts me that my body has taken over and that is when I begin praying earnestly, “Please help me stay awake thru this meeting. Please, I promise I will be good for the rest of my life, just don’t let me start snoring agin.” That is when I start pinching myself and edging looks at the clock to see how long I have left to embarass myself in. Such is life as one ages but there is always a positive in every experience if only one looks hard enough and for me that is humility which I never thought I needed. It seems to me that the Lord knows me better than I know myself and this is a lesson I need to learn therefore I will continue to ‘fight the good fight’ and you will know if I have been successful or not the next time you sit by me in a meeting and I remain alert and awake the whole time and I promise I won’t say a word to you if I see your head start to nod. . . .!

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Saturday, July 29, 2006
David works 12 hours protecting consumers from E coli and other bacteria.
The cucumber plants had just started producing when Dad, Mom, Bryan and Franklin left for vacation. David has been faithfully checking the plants and every day has added to a refrigerator rack, now full, dedicated to storing the produce. Even though it is very hot, Mom cans 14 half-pints of pickles. She mentally tabs them “David’s vacation pickles,” and will enjoy this memory as she eats them throughout the year.
“Why are you canning on such a hot day?” Dad wants to know. It is so hot and humid that when he and Mom take a walk around the short blocks, their shirts are drenched with sweat. This gives Dad an idea. “Maybe I’ll sit in the car and enjoy the heat.” When Mom looks at him like he is crazy Dad reaffirms his intention to use the car as a sauna. “Won’t that stink up the car?” asks Mom, worried about sweat dripping onto the seats. Dad smiles. “That’s why I’m going to use the van.” About 15 minutes later, Mom sees him headed upstairs with a towel slung over his shoulder. “The van wasn’t hot enough,” he says. “I’m going to try the attic.”
When David returns home from work he and Bryan settle in to watch “Red and Blue,” which is, in their words, “a silly movie based on the game halo.”

Sunday, July 30, 2006
At church, Mom is released from her calling as Boy Scout Committee Chair and has been called, sustained and set apart to be a Sunday School teacher for the 16 & 17-year-old group, which includes David and Bryan, instead.
Dad bakes a chicken dinner in our new oven, testing out the convection system. As always, it is “very dee-lish.”
This is Dad’s last day of vacation. David and Bryan play Starcraft with Franklin so that Dad can watch “Matrix Reloaded” with Mom. At bedtime, Franklin picks out “George and Martha” as his bedtime story because he knows it is one of Dad’s favorites.

Monday, July 31, 2006
David works 12 hours protecting consumers from E coli and other bacteria.
Mom and Franklin make a trip to the library in search of Pokémon videos, but none are to be found. Mom promises to take Franklin to Family Video, which has a large selection of kids movies available at no cost as long as they are turned in on time. Since it is very hot out, Mom tells Franklin to wait in the air-conditioned lobby of the library while she pulls up the car. A glowering Franklin greets her at the library door. He doesn’t say much until he is in the car and the doors are shut. “Those are not nice boys,” he said, referring to a couple of teenagers chatting on cell phones in the lobby. “They said, “H-i-l-l.” Franklin is careful to spell this word out. “I heard them say h-i-l-l.” Mom is suppressing the giggles. Franklin is so serious and of course has no clue he is spelling it wrong. He continues, “And we all know what h-i-l-l means!”
It is the day of the “Raising a Healthy Eater” class that Mom has been attending. Mom happens to be the only parent there today, so her teacher invites Franklin to come to class. He enjoys spooning pudding, bananas and raspberries into a graham cracker mini-crust and squirting whipped topping over it. He even gives one of the raspberries a nibble, evidence of the hard work he and Mom have been doing this summer to help him begin to try foods other than cinnamon toast, carrots, fish sticks and French fries. The teacher also has an apron for Franklin to decorate. He immediately notices it is kid-size and dubs it his “Private Apron.” Mom writes the letters and he copies over them in permanent marker, adding a giant smiley face denoting someone eating healthy foods and two upside-down, black-tongued frowny faces representing people who eat too much sugar. “That gives me an idea,” he announces. He thinks it would be great to bake some cupcakes and sell them. Mom groans. This sounds like a lot of work for her. But she smiles and goes along, restraining herself from smacking the teacher, who suggests that some lemonade would go nicely with that. Franklin is gung-ho to start today, but it is hot and Mom is able to defer the exercise for the time being.
Dad arrives looking very sweaty and very pleased with himself. His black Cavalier sits in the sun all day and is very hot by the time he is ready to drive home from work. Today he kept the windows up and the air conditioning off, the Cav successfully functioning as a sauna.
After dinner, Dad comes with Mom and Franklin Palmer Park wading pool. It is warm enough outside that standing under the mushroom is no different that taking a warm shower.

Tuesday, August 1, 2006
David works 12 hours protecting consumers from E coli and other bacteria. He reports 80 degree temps at the Bird’s Eye Foods Bacti Labs.
Bryan returns from swimming at about 7:15 AM, reporting directly to Mom with a brusque, “Mother, I require some assistance getting this dressed.” “This” is a dozen gashes across his leg from the sprocket of his bicycle. One of the gashes requires 6 stitches. In the waiting room Franklin says, “Can’t we just drop Bryan off and come back?” Mom gives Bryan the day off from helping. “I should do this more often,” grins Bryan. Despite his injuries, he still manages to cook the hamburgers for dinner. (Editor: It’s not like it hurt or crippled me.) Cupcakes are still very much on Franklin’s mind. He and Mom discuss pricing. Franklin wants to charge 3 cents each. “How about a quarter?” suggests Mom. Franklin is shocked. He does not want to charge such an outrageous amount. “What if someone is saving their quarters? What if they want to buy a toy for one of their kids?”

Wednesday, August 2, 2006
Happy Anniversary to Wendell Joe and Jenyne, celebrating their 3rd year together somewhere in Texas.
David works 12 hours protecting consumers from E coli and other bacteria.
Franklin dons his “Private Apron” and helps Mom make cupcakes. The cupcakes are left to cool while the two run the morning’s errands, which includes a reluctant Franklin bringing in the now-empty garbage cans. Once in the car Franklin announces that he is “parent sick.”
“Parent-sick?” repeats Mom. “What is that?”
“I am sick of having parents tell me what to do.”
Mom and Franklin are trying to make sure they get some outdoor or physical activity each day. Today they try ice skating—Franklin’s first time. He can hardly keep himself upright on the ice, but still tries to skate backward and do some fancy arabesques, the latter with a sweetly posed smile and fluttering eyelids.
There is supposed to be a thunderstorm and a 20-degree drop in temperature, but it is still dry and in the 90’s at 2:00 PM. Franklin is anxious to make some sales and is not as concerned about the heat. He finds the card table and carries it outside by himself, getting all the legs stretched out, but not quite able to bump it into a standing position. Mom helps him with this part, but he is on his own for carrying out the merchandise. He hand prints a sign that says “For Sale,” tapes it to the table, and begins shouting to the neighborhood: “Cupcakes! Cupcakes!” To Mom’s amazement, after 5 minutes, a lady has come walking by and buys 2 for a dollar. Less than 30 minutes later, someone else walks by and buys 1 for a quarter. Then, despite numerous trips in and out the front door—“Franklin, did you shut the front door? You’re letting all the cold air out.”—Franklin gets too hot and stays inside for a break. He mans the table once more just as Daddy pulls up. Daddy buys a cupcake for a nickel and two other neighbors returning from work spring for the 3 cents Franklin is asking but contrary to Mom’s advice, has not posted. Franklin is thrilled. But thunder is rumbling in the distance, so Dad and Frank bring in the cupcakes and take down the table.
Bryan continues to run VCTC with his injured leg, although he feels “abominably slow” at a pace of 12 minutes per mile. He also picks up his share of the home work, doing an outstanding job cleaning up the stains on the basement carpet. “Would Mother like to inspect my work,” he asks. The first thing Mom notices going down the basement steps is that it actually smells nice. When she sees the pristine rug, it all but blinds her eyes. Nice job, Bryan.

Thursday, August 3, 2006
David works 12 hours protecting consumers from E coli and other bacteria.
Bryan changes the cat litter, mows the lawn, and sweeps the sidewalks. His attempts to use the weed whacker are not met with success. “It doesn’t like me,” he says.
A worried Franklin once again broaches the subject of Mom’s death. “I don’t want you to die,” he wails. Mom is feeling very well, thank you, and is starting to get irritated by this frequent outburst predicting her imminent doom. She reflects for a moment and tries a new tack. “Franklin, most people these days live until they are in their 80s, 90s, or sometimes even to 100.” As she suspected, Franklin is considerably comforted. Later, describing the incident to Dad, she explains, “I realized what was wrong when I remembered how old my parents used to seem when I was a kid.”
Mom has made visible progress on her shelf-refinishing project. She is pleased with the light yellow paint on the first segment of the built-ins and asks others for their opinions. “Looks like a lot of work,” says Dad.
“I really don’t like the yellow,” says David. “I liked the pink better.”
“You’re just not used to it,” counters Mom.
“I never got used to the pink,” replies David.
Disappointed, Mom corners Bryan. “What do you think?”
Bryan smiles sheepishly and begins backing away.
Mom glares at him. “Well?”
“Yellow gives you eye strain,” is his comment.

Friday, August 4, 2006
David works 12 hours protecting consumers from E coli and other bacteria.
Mom and Franklin meet Dad in Madison for a trip to UW-SWAP and McDonalds. SWAP prices seem to be higher than usual. Mom and Dad reminisce about the good old days when desks were $5 or $10, chairs were $1 to $5 and you could pick up blankets or shirts for $1 each. Much of their household furniture and most of their computers come from SWAP, but nothing today.
Car trips have become a great time for quizzes.
“What’s 10 x 10?” asks Franklin.
“One hundred,” says Mom.
“What’s one hundred times one hundred?”
“Ten thousand.”
“What’s ten thousand times ten thousand?”
Mom has to stop and think about all the zeroes. “One hundred million.”
“Here’s one,” says Franklin, determined to stump Mom if he can. “What’s a zillion times a zillion?”
“I have no idea,” says Mom, not even sure if there is such a number as zillion.
“It’s so big, even I don’t know it,” laughs Franklin.
“Is it so wrong to go out to eat with my Sweet on a Friday night?” asks Dad upon returning home from work. Mom, who has declared leftovers for dinner sees nothing wrong at all, so the two leave Franklin with Bryan and head to one of their favorite haunts, “Imperial Gardens,” a Chinese restaurant with a great won-ton soup.
Returning home they find a note on the board and a very worried Bryan. (Editor: I was not worried.) “Franklin appears to be sick,” he says. “I called the cell phone, but there was no answer.” “Temperature, 101.4; Resting heart rate, 114,” reads the note. Franklin is wrapped in a comforter in Dad and Mom’s bed. “I wanted you,” says Franklin, who is indeed feverish.
“Looks like Bryan took very good care of you,” says Mom.

Saturday, August 5, 2006
David works 12 hours protecting consumers from E coli and other bacteria.
Franklin is feeling much better, but he and Mom stay home instead of accompanying Dad up to Marshfield to visit Grandpa and Grandma Breu.
While eating breakfast he poses the question: “What do you get when you add one neat kid plus one neat Mom?”
“Priceless?” asks Mom, thinking of some recent credit card commercials.
“A great life,” replies Franklin.
Mom sands down the area above the fireplace and primes two more shelves. Bryan washes up the dishes, spruces up the kitchen, brushes Topaz and looks out for Franklin while Mom stocks up on sandpaper and groceries. Mom has a lot of neat kids, and a fantastic husband, too. It is a great life.

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We have exciting news…Franklin supplied a Berenstain Bear book that stated it best, “When a mamma bear’s lap slowly disappears, she has some news to tell her little dears.”

Yep…my lap is disappearing and our little Scoubes Jr is growing pretty fast. February 25th is the due date. Suggest girl names if you like. We are very excited.

Sure luv ya!

Kristi

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Congratulations go out to Joy and Justin who were married seven years ago on August 6, 1999 We tip our hat to the two of them for hanging in there. Happily ever after doesn’t happen without a lot of hard work on the part of both individuals!

Congratulations to Justin for successfully completing his 13 weeks of Marine Boot Camp at Paris Island, South Carolina. He tells us with the exception of the first week or so and missing his family constantly it really wasn’t so bad–now if he can just learn to eat with his right hand again. . . .

Congratulations go to Nancy and Dakota for making the plunge. They will become Michigandars at the end of this month. Michigan is a great state as our family well knows having lived there for 18 months while MGH–their father, attended Michigan State at East Lansing where he earned his doctorate in dairy cattle breeding (statistics) It was a family affair to be sure. Congratulations as well to Brooks and Nancy who were also married in 1999–July 11th, if memory serves me right.

Congratulations to Sylvia and Tom, as well, who have survived life with each other since July 1st 1995. No small accomplishment in today’s world where “I do” often turns to “I don’t” in the blink of an eye.

Congratulations to Brooke on her upcoming marriage August 12th in the Bountiful Temple. We are excited and happy for her.

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