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OHMYGOSH! I GOT AN AWARD! Hold on Heidi. This is a good time to take your own advice:
Oh, um… yeah. What I meant to say is: OHMYGOSH! I GOT AN AWARD, DAWGS! Much better.
The Roost has just graced me with my first blog award ever. Thank you ever so much!
Isn’t it pretty? I’ve spent the whole weekend building a trophy case for it. See? It’s over there on the left.
I’d like to share the love and pass it on to: Soliloquy for her most embarrassing moment ever and also because I love her honesty.
and to: Holly for the way she rocks an aquaskipper.
(And if you have already received it, please see your own disclaimer.)
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to call email everyone I know to tell them about my award. But don’t worry, I’ll play it cool. WHOOT! WHOOT!
Previously on Frantically Simple: Jolene wanted to know:
Maybe you already answered this, but how did you meet your husband? I love those stories.
Favorite hobbies?
Top ten movies?
If you could have ANY job in the world and still have your family, what would it be?
Is that enough for ya?
Ohh, I also would like to know more about your work for LDS Family Services. I’m sure that’s a book in itself. Just something to ponder. you know, for all those hours a day when you have nothing to do…
All weekend I’ve been worrying about you! Wondering if my cliffhanger from Friday was keeping you up at night. Because I know that the suspense surrounding my favorite movie could be a real nail biter.
Before I answer, I have to say thanks to Jolene. She has been my most faithful reader and commenter. She’s been with me since the first weeks of this blog and I appreciate it.
On to my answers: Favorite hobbies
I consider the f-word (favorite) to be a dirty word. I have such a hard time when someone asks me my favorite anything because what I really love is variety. However in the past I have enjoyed sewing, knitting, painting, yoga, camping, cooking but not baking, running, reading and writing. The last two are pretty constant. The others come and go.
Top Ten Movies
First of all, I am somewhat limited by the fact that I don’t watch any rated R movies – I just don’t like the yucky feeling I get from them.
And here again, I like variety. In order to be in my top ten, the movie would have to stand up to multiple watchings. Sadly, I don’t think I have ten in that category.
But three do come to mind – Bubbleboy, the new Hairspray and Practical Magic.
You didn’t ask but it’s my blog so I’m going to tell you anyway: my all time favorite book (right now) is J. M. Barrie’s The Little White Bird.
What job would I like?
I have earned about $5 from my ads here so does this qualify as a job?
Honestly, I’d love to get paid for my writing. I have a couple of queries out there for magazine articles, another one for a childrens book and I am working on a novel. But who isn’t?
My volunteer work
I have done some volunteer work with girls in crisis pregnancies that are contemplating adoption.
And after writing and deleting a dozen paragraphs about it I have decide that I could indeed write a book about it. Hmm… Maybe I should.
Or at least a separate blog post. So more on that later.
And now for the good stuff:
It may not be Days, nor is it Black Heels to Tractor Wheels, but there is a story there.
A Whirlwind Romance
I was nineteen. The past few years had been spent in the painful chrysalis of trying to figure out who I was. I made mistakes. And I suffered.
It had taken some time and a badly broken heart, but I learned that I was a daughter of God and He loves me. That knowledge was everything. I started behaving more like it.
One warm May evening in 1995 I decided to go to a church dance. I don’t know why I wanted to go. Because even though I had decided to make Christ a part of my life, I still had some misgivings about the other people my age at church. The girls seemed cliquish and the guys were weird. Really weird. And nerdy. And weird.
I did not like them.
So no one was more surprised than I was when I started getting ready to go to this dance. I carefully picked out my outfit. One that said, “I’m cute, friendly, and not interested in any of you weirdos.”
In case you are wondering an outfit like that looks like, I lay it out for you:
Black Doc Martins, faded Gap jeans, and a sheer short-sleeved sweater with a modest black tank underneath.
Oh yeah, and a scowl.
So the Princess left for the Ball. And it was bad.
Bad dancing. (Think Elaine from Seinfeld)
Bad music. (YMCA again?)
Bad food. (Store bought cookies still in their plastic cases)
Bad. Bad. Bad.
Here is where some well-meaning older adult would tell me that “Fun is an attitude, not an event” and I would punch them in the face.
Or at least sigh and roll my eyes. Did I mention that even though I had learned who I was, I was still dealing with some issues?
I felt like the girl that gets invited to a party because the birthday-girl’s mother made her. Everyone acts like they want the girl there, but she knows the truth.
Honestly, the people at my church were probably quite nice, but I was really insecure. I was trying to reject them before they had a chance to reject me.
And it was working out quite well. Thankyouverymuch.
I was standing by the table of chocolate chip cookies and red punch when someone introduced me to Mr. Frantic. He was newly returned from serving a two-year mission.
A mission where he did not date or even flirt with girls. Where he did not watch tv. Or listen to the radio. Or read anything other than scripture and scripture commentary.
He devoted every waking minute to God’s work for two years.
The poor guy had been home for less than a week and he was feeling really awkward at his “reentry” into real life.
I could have been gracious. I could have helped him to feel welcome and comfortable. But before I could say a word, the thought went through my mind, “I wonder if this is the guy I’ll end up marrying?”
I have to tell you, I was not in the habit of thinking about marriage. I was nineteen for heaven sake!
I had plans. Plans that included moving away from my parent’s home. Travel. Finishing up at the local community college and moving on the university. Preferably one far away.
And not BYU.
My plans did not include getting married anytime soon. Nope. Not me.
And so that little matrimonial thought poisoned me against my new acquaintance. I barely spoke to him. We each came away from that first encounter with a less than favorable impression of the other.
I thought he was annoying. He thought I was obnoxious.
Can’t you see how the seeds of love were planted?
Me either.
“Mom, maybe on your blog you could do a story about Fat Albert. You know, with markers? Because I think a lot of people would link to that.”
Genius. She should write for Blogging Basics 101.
Okay, so I am not at BlogHer. And really I’m fine. I mean who wants to travel to a really cool city, meet people with similar obsessions hobbies, get tons of free stuff and go to parties? Me, that’s who.
But since I’m not at that party, I am thrilled that I was invited am crashing this one:
Click on the image to go there.
Here’s the recipe, compliments of Leanne Ely with my notes in italic:
CHEERY CHERRY CHICKEN SALAD
Makes 2 main-course servings.
I never measure, just eyeball it
2 cups cubed cooked chicken If you are looking for some extra flavor, grill the chicken
1/2 cup dried tart cherries Craisins work well too
1/4 cup chopped walnuts
3 green onions, sliced
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup plain yogurt
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Chopped fresh parsley
In a large bowl, combine chicken, cherries, walnuts and onions; mix well.
In a small bowl, combine mayonnaise, yogurt, lemon juice, oregano and pepper; pour over chicken mixture.
Mix gently.
Refrigerate, covered, 1 to 2 hours. Feel free to eat straight from the bowl, standing in front of the open refrigerator. That’s how I like it.
And for the sweet tooth, I brought these:
(recipe here).
Party on.
PS: Like what you’ve seen so far? Wait until you read what I have coming up. Subscribe to my feed
or….
Once upon a time there was a Heidi.
The Heidi family had a husband,
a daughter,
and a dog. Sidenote: Other actors tried out for the part of Shasta
but none were quite right for the role.
Heidi liked to write.
Heidi also liked to color with markers.
Even though she was officially a grown-up.
For some reason no one could tell, Heidi liked to share her “art” with others. On the internet.
This is Heidi’s computer.
It is a laptop. It is three months old.
It does not smell like a lemon.
It does not look like a lemon.
But Heidi thinks it is a lemon.
If you look close you can see it says this:
Heidi has had nothing but problems with her computer. Heidi wishes she had gotten a Mac, but Heidi’s husband needed to use her new computer until his new job supplied him with a new laptop and a Mac was incompatible with his software.
If you understood that sentence, Heidi is impressed.
One day Heidi was trying to scan some of her drawings.
It was not working.
Heidi was angry.
Heidi was frustrated.
Heidi was not sure why her laptop would no longer speak to three printers or a scanner. It had become an aloof lemon.
Or why the ‘s’ sticks, turning words like “sticks” into “tick”. Heidi has to watch carefully for ticks.
(Alternate line: It has caused Heidi to develop a tick.)
Heidi called Dell.
Dell said, “We do not wish to help you, Heidi. Please call the Geek Squad.”
Heidi called the Geek Squad.
The Geek said, “We would be happy to help you, Heidi. Please give us $200.”
Heidi became really angry.
She did not give the Geek $200. She took a nap.
Sometimes Heidi deals with her emotions like that.
She might have dreamed about doing this:
but she did not.
When she woke up her Husband asked her to go for a drive.
He drove and drove and drove.
After an hour he ended up at a fruit stand.
A fruit stand that sells only Apples.
He said, “Heidi, why don’t you buy a new laptop?”
Heidi said, “Um, ok.” And smiled really big.
The Fruit Seller said, “The new iphone just came out. Please get in line. For two hours.”
Heidi obeyed.
But then Heidi remembered that she is a homeschool teacher now.
That means that she qualifies for a big discount.
But she had no proof. She needed an Official Homeschooling Mama badge from the state. But she doesn’t have one yet.
So she left the line,
gave Mr. Frantic a big kiss,
and went home.
Then she remembered that as much as she wants a new laptop, she needs a new:
So she is calling the Geek Squad tomorrow.
Heidi may not have a new laptop, but she has a great husband.
And he is totally compatible with her software.
Remember when we drove my car 3500 miles across the country? Was that really three months ago? Somehow it seems longer… TRUE CONFESSION TIME:
Until the other day, the interior of my car was yet to be cleaned. MORE CONFESSION TIME:
And the entire three years I lived in Maryland, it was only vacuumed once. Do I disgust you?
Before our move away and back I treated my car to a full cleansing about once a month. But where we lived in Maryland had no full service car wash.
No smiling attendant to take my keys and disappear while I perused a gift shop full of Willow Tree Figurines while sipping an Italian Soda.
No smiling attendant to return my car sparkling inside and out and smelling like vanilla.
I have returned and the utopia of car cleanliness is only a few scant miles from my home. That smiling attendant has been there waiting to happily remove all of my accumulated grime, but I have not visited.
Somehow I have been unable to reconcile the $30.00 charge for a car-wash. Perhaps it is because gas is now somewhere around $42 a gallon.
And I firmly believe that the family that works together has more opportunities to argue um…saves $30.
You may notice that there are no photos of me.
But I was doing my part. Someone had to drink the Italian Soda.
I was recently tagged for a meme on The Roost. She describes it like so:
This challenge is prompted by the book Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six Word Memoirs by Writers Famous & Obscure. by Larry Smith and Rachel Feshleiser. It’s a compilation based on the story that Hemingway once bet ten dollars that he could sum up his life in 6 words. His words were, “For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn”.
Honestly, I have been having a hard time with this one because life has been? …let’s say it has been better.
Hey there’s six words: My life has been much better.
Or how about: Struggling, but keeping it to myself.
Or to get to the crux of the matter: Not where I want to be.
Three years ago my husband and I felt God directing us to a really big adventure. He told us to pack our things and leave our home: the place where our families lived and where we both grew up. We were to take our daughter and move 3000 miles from Oregon to Maryland. We had no concrete reason for doing so. Sure, there was a job there but there was a more secure job here. We were terrified, but we chose to obey. It was really hard and we were called upon to make huge financial sacrifices. Even so, it truly was the best time of my life.
It didn’t take me long to figure out what I was doing there. In his infinite love and mercy God moved us all that way so that I could be in the path of a young woman who needed me. Both our lives were changed forever.
And while I was there I grew to love Maryland. I love the trees and parks. I love the history. I love the food. I love the people I met. I really loved the life I was living there.
I thanked God for my blessings even when it was hard. I was so grateful he placed us there and I never wanted to live anywhere else.
But He had other plans for us. The time came all too quickly that we were no longer needed in Maryland. A few months ago He called us home to Oregon; our family needed us here.
We obeyed but like Lot’s wife I have been unable to resist looking back. And I have been transformed into something like a pillar of salty, bitter tears. I have been stuck mourning for what I lost instead of building something new.
Yesterday, the tears I have been been trying to hold back broke through and I poured my sorrows out to my Lord. I felt no peace, just emptiness. Yet I pulled myself together and left for church.
And then He spoke to me.
It was He that reminded of Lot’s wife.
It was He that reminded me that I was merely pretending at obedience, for my heart wasn’t in it.
And then He comforted me.
During the service a group of young men sang a song that touched my soul so deeply that I could not keep from crying again. But this time the tears I shed were for gratitude that my God had not forgotten me.
Here are the words of the song:
It may not be on the mountain’s height
Or over the stormy sea,
It may not be at the battle’s front
My Lord will have need of me;
But if by a still, small voice
He calls to paths I do not know,
I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in Thine,
I’ll go where You want me to go.
Perhaps today there are loving words
Which Jesus would have me speak,
There may be now, in the paths of sin,
Some wand’rer whom I should seek;
O Savior, if Thou wilt be my Guide,
Tho’ dark and rugged the way,
My voice shall echo the message sweet,
I’ll say what you want me to say.
There’s surely somewhere a lowly place
In earth’s harvest fields so wide,
Where I may labor through life’s short day
For Jesus the Crucified;
So, trusting my all unto Thy care-
I know Thou lovest me-
I’ll do Thy will with a heart sincere,
I’ll be what You want me to be.
Chorus:
I’ll go where You want me to go, dear Lord,
O’er mountain or plain or sea;
I’ll say what You want me to say, dear Lord,
I’ll be what You want me to be.
In that moment my heart was lifted and my resolve strengthened.
So here are my new six words: Peace comes when I serve Him.
No matter where that might be.
Here are the rules:
1. Write your own six word memoir.
2. Post it to your blog including a visual illustration if you would like.
3. Link to the person who tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travel across the blogsphere.
4. Tag 5 more blogs with links.
5. Don’t forget to leave a comment in the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.
