tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86091682286388332312024-03-13T09:35:59.615-07:00The fearful mom and the faithful fourJane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-13505024179748173872015-06-07T23:04:00.001-07:002015-06-07T23:04:55.855-07:00Lots to catch up on........1. Missionaries are home (what to call my blog?) And ...does anyone want to hear the ramblings of a imperfect woman of almost 60 years (yikes!!!!) who is still trying after all these years to define herself?<br />
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2. Life got too hectic , and I was kind of on auto-pilot.<br />
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3. Baby Lauren was born to Ben and Jess. She is beautiful, and perfectly wonderful , but has had to be a strong, little fighter in her short two month and a half months of life.<br />
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4. Summer is upon me. What to do?<br />
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5. Plans for the faithful four.<br />
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I rather think I will still write because even if no one finds my thoughts interesting...I have always<br />
been able to sort things out through putting them to paper (or computer). I started a journal in the sixth grade and still keep one. I am a little afraid of what my posterity will think of me someday as they read the musings of a young girl, an awkward teenager, a confused young woman, and a crazy mom of seven. As I start into the twilight years (yes, I know I am not <i>that old) </i>I am a little anxious about what I should be doing and accomplishing. Part of me wants to sit back, read a few books, and eat snacks. The snack part...not good. I think I need to continue to work and teach piano to feel a part of something bigger than myself. I find myself a little more content when I am a little busier. I am not driven to accomplish huge things. I am a little sad about that, but I am good at being a friend and connecting with people. I am so very lucky to have people in my life. I looked around at the six of us tonight watching "Meet the Mormons"and felt very blessed indeed. I never did get that new house I wanted, and I haven't traveled nearly as much as I would like, but my life has been a good one filled with lots of chaos. As far as excitement goes, putting seven kids under nine to bed was sure to get the blood pumping at our house. Euphoria came when I knew I could get four hours of uninterrupted sleep, or when everyone napped at the same time so I could do dishes. My babies are having babies of their own now, and I find myself free to enjoy them without the duties of "motherhood". All I need to do is to love on them, and send them back to their parents. It is quite wonderful!<br />
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Baby Lauren is a wonderful addition to our family. She simply could not be sweeter. Her deep blue eyes speak volumes of wisdom and patience gained through a difficult two and a half months of life. She came into the world a little fighter who had to be resuscitated, spending some days in the NICU. She had a sacral dimple that had to be checked by ultrasound to make sure the nerve endings were covered. She had a heart murmur that is big enough to possibly need open heart surgery. As Lauren's breathing was quite loud, it was determined that our baby also has Laryngomalacia. This is a congenital abnormality of the laryngeal cartilage. The soft cartilage of the larynx collapses inward making sleeping/breathing/eating difficult. Lauren had surgery to try to correct this problem at Primary Children's Hospital. They were not completely successful because it is quite severe. They can now see her vocal cords, however, as they could not before the operation. Lauren eats with a special slow-flow bottle and is doing much better. Jess is very busy with home care appointments, along with seeing Lauren's cardiologist and ENT doctor down at Primary's. Ben and Jess are phenomenal parents and so faithful , loving and caring for their little daughter. The good thing about Laryngomalacia is that as the child grows, the symptoms usually decrease sometimes disappearing by the age of two. Lauren was given blessed today at church. Her father (Ben) blessed with so many wonderful qualities and supplicated our Heavenly Father to watch over her and give her the strength she needs to deal with future health concerns.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lauren Taylor</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lauren on her blessing day. What a sweet dress!</td></tr>
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Speaking of two, our Ruby (aka Bubbergirl )is two! She is delightful. She is starting to speak, and is so interesting. I have no qualms about spoiling her rotten. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruby Fay Morris, age two</td></tr>
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It is as if the missionaries were never gone! Things have resumed quite as they once were with busy comings and goings, but I have to remind Jerry every now and then that he doesn't have to call them all the time to see where and what they are doing. Mark is working at Bio-med as a phlebotomist, and Matthew and Bethany are at American First Credit Union. Rachel is working for T. R. Morgan's law offices as a receptionist. Their experiences as missionaries have changed them in countless ways. They are the same, and yet not so much. They astound me with their wisdom and knowledge of life, of people and of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. They are planning for school and that is another story completely! Ahh...time to sit back and let them do things in their own way and time? <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Mom and her boy (Mark)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such sweetness upon seeing my sons again</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jerry hates this one, haha</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mom and her girl</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Faithful Four together again</td></tr>
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As i garden this summer, I contemplate life's changes. It quiets my soul to turn dirt over in my hands, and smell the sun-warmed soil. I love seeing things grow. Maybe it is why I loved being pregnant and having kids (: My piano recitals are over, and I feel both a sense of relief and satisfaction. Such beautiful pieces executed so nicely!! 36 Students played including Mark and Bethany. They all did so very, very well. More changes abound!! Emily is having another baby in November, Ben graduated with a Master's degree in Professional Communications, and a couple of them are dating people and it seems to be fairly serious.<br />
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I , who hate change, has seen a lot of it these last few months. I am learning to accept it for what it is...inevitable! What I need to learn is how to let it contribute to my well-being, my happiness and my growth of character. Life thus far has been well-traveled, but I want to know that I have contributed to someone else's happiness along the road. I have been so sustained by my friends and family members, that I can only hope that I have reciprocated in some small way. My mother always told me to join the "compliment club" and I would have lots of friends. I would ask her what kind of club that it was...thinking it would surely have a president and chartered members? She told me to always make come away making people feel good. I sometimes that people like me because of my inferior nature, but I genuinely love people. That advice has blessed my life many times over. <br />
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I don't mean to sound so serious, but it is late, and perhaps I can be funny on my next blog! Here's to change. Amy, go to your new school and wow them with your excellent skills and phenomenal teaching gifts. I will still be your friend! Kids, go out and live your lives. I promise not to be too offended when I am not needed so very much any more. Jerry, I think we should take a trip when we have money. (That actually sounds really nice...hmmn ). Me----? I would have to say to myself, "get healthy, and if you don't like who you are, make some changes!! " I feel strong tonight, but we will see in the morning.<br />
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Goodnight all. I so appreciate the strength of the people in my life. I learn every day from your examples!<br />
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-33718329116161740142015-04-22T00:43:00.000-07:002015-04-22T00:49:38.770-07:00The Last of Four.....they are together again!I am a procrastinator....I mismanage time.....I yield to food that isn't good for me..... But I am a friend.... and I am a mother..... and I have a child coming home tomorrow whom I have not seen for 18 months and two weeks!!<br />
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I realize I haven't given a review on how things went with the boys, and given my procrastination of late, don't know when that will happen. Matthew and Mark came home the 19th of February. They found jobs, worked, and found jobs again! They are new and improved with just enough of their slothful, yet endearing ways to blend right back into the family. Rachel is no longer an only child. It seems good to have them home again. (yes, it also seemed good to have a empty nest for awhile) I did not find myself pining too much(: Time is marching on, and they are all making grown-up decisions. I am grateful for their maturity, for their work ethic and for their desire to make something of themselves.</div>
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I sit here after Midnight and look at my messy kitchen ..pretty much with apathy. I don't care much right now. I am tired. I talked with my sister and my sister-in-law on the phone for a long period of time and it was good. I visited with friends, and I thought a lot about my blessings. My sister asked me, "Are you happy?" I thought a moment before I answered her. I am having a tooth removal and implant on Friday. My Sister's husband passed away yesterday. I am worried about the upcoming recital for 40 students. I haven't cleaned my shower for......ummm...not sure! My little granddaughter Lauren needs open heart surgery in a few months. My knees are bad. I have venous insufficiency, and need some vericose veins removed. I need more money and time and weekends with nothing to do. Am I happy? Yes! I am happy. I am content, and so , so blessed..... I told Liz this with a strong conviction that has not left me since I talked to her an hour ago.</div>
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Happiness is truly a state of mind. I don't always have this state and am grateful for it at the present time. My daughter Bethany is coming home tomorrow morning. She and her sister and brothers went out within six months of each other and have fulfilled full-time missions serving people, teaching them Gospel truths and learning so much about themselves. Six of my seven children have served full-time missions, and I could not be prouder. </div>
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<b><i>Bethany in her last e-mail said, "I have met people who have changed my life. I have made life-long friends and have been an influence for good in the lives of others. I've learned the Gospel and have developed an unshakable testimony of the truthfulness of it and of my Savior Jesus Christ. God is real and he loves us. The Book of Mormon is proof of everything I believe. I came out here with a lot of selfish reasons of why I 'wanted' to serve. But now I see that I had to serve."</i></b></div>
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What a bittersweet moment this will be for us as we greet our daughter. I am reluctant to let the experiences that have both affected us come to an end. I will never again send out a missionary. I will miss the many e-mails, and the constant reminder that I have a missionary/missionaries in the field being a disciple of Christ. It has been a joyous experience as we prayed and fasted for them. I felt the Spirit, and my desire was for them was to feel it and accomplish great things as they connected with people. I wanted them to grow in the work and be able to do it. Lastly, I wanted them to return home with honor, a strong testimony that God lives, and Jesus is the Christ. I believe that they have all accomplished this. What a humbling experience it has been for us to share in this journey!!</div>
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A new journey awaits each one of then, and I am incredibly excited to see what they will do with their lives. As is my nature as a born worrier, I try not to dwell on the not so exciting part of mortality. Trials come to all of us, and yet I hope they have learned coping skills, and the love of a caring Father in Heaven.</div>
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To our Bethany, "you are fought the good fight, and stayed the course, and now you are returning home to a house that is filled with the people you love (and will learn to love). I am sure it will be an adjustment, but life is all about adjusting to change. Most change can allow us to grow and develop into the person we need to be, and to accomplish what we need to do. If you can serve a mission, you can do anything! Love Mom x0x0x0x0x0x0x0xx0 (which is how I signed all my letters)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sister Taylor and her 'sisters'</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Selfies on missions are fun</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putting together boxes for a service project</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bethany and the Bell ringers....(Christmas time?)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bethany and Sister Whitbeck (in the middle) with Sister Wensel, Sister Wood and Sister ? These sisters all taught Shirley the Gospel!</td></tr>
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Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-24334370403653370632015-02-18T21:20:00.002-08:002015-02-18T21:26:08.152-08:00You can't revisit the past /"time marches on"/ The Taylor boys are coming home!When I was in my teens, I watched a movie entitled "The Two Worlds of Jenny Logan". I was mesmerized by this show. Lindsay Wagner, whom I absolutely loved, starred in this riveting story about a woman who falls in love with someone from the past. She would become faint, and awake in a different time where she fell in love with a handsome gentleman. Yes, she was already married but they had some difficulties. Her present husband thought she was crazy when she told him all about her other life, and it was only when she disappeared that he begin to believe her. He found an old picture in the attic of her other family and children. She was wearing a particular necklace he had given to her. He knew then that she had actually traveled back in time and had lived the other life. He breaks down sobbing, while I would get goosebumps!! Well, I thought I would order the DVD on Amazon and re-live that awesome movie. I was a little disappointed to say the least. The film seemed faded, the acting contrived and the plot a little silly. No goosebumps for me!<br />
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I thought then about how the past is always a lot more colorful than in reality. Loved ones are always more perfect after their death, childhood memories are a lot sweeter , good times become even better when recalled after a few years have passed. I think a lot about the kids being little, and about me being younger. I grow too melancholy and everyone knows I cried quite a bit over my kids leaving on missions. I felt the end of an era, and wished I had reveled in the past a little more. Did I remember sleepless nights, and onery kids? No, I just remembered the unbelievable cuteness, the rocking of sweet babies, and the love I had for them. I can scarcely believe I could suddenly be the mother of adult children. It was only yesterday that I remember being 30 years old. I clearly remember turning 21 and knowing I had arrived as an adult. I knew everything. The older I become; the more I realize I know nothing!!</div>
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So the boys come home tomorrow. My missionaries , Matthew and Mark, respectively Elder Taylor and Elder Taylor! I will certainly miss those missionary Mondays when they would e-mail me. Has the time gone fast? Oh, my yes, in countless ways. I have loved having missionaries. Although I think wistfully about their babyhood, I love having older children. The wisdom and insights they have gained on their missions have prepared them for life with all its joys and sorrow. It's now back to the secular life with job searching, college, and girlfriends. </div>
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You've heard it said, "you can never go home again". Well, I hope this house is always a home to all my kids wherever they may go. I wish it to be a safe place, a sanctuary if you will, where they feel loved and appreciated. </div>
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<b>From Mark's last e-mail: </b> " <span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">My adventure here in Oklahoma is soon coming to an end, but ends always mean new </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">I've learned much from my Mission. I know much about the enabling power of the Atonement. I've especially come to love a lot of the people I serve. I'm just straight up happy. I will tell you more about that happiness when I see everyone in just a few more days. The Gospel is True!</span><br />
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God Speed!!!"</div>
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Elder Mark Taylor<br />
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<b>From Matthew's last e-mail:</b> " a<span style="line-height: 21.2999992370605px;">nyways... I have loved my mission. It has been the best two years of my life. I have learned that the church and the restored Gospel is everything. I have also learned to fear God and be accountable to him. I will be going to Kirtland tomorrow with all the departing missionaries and have a special meeting, later we will have a special dinner at the mission home and a small fireside. Thursday morning I will get on a plane and fly back to Utah! See you all very soon."</span><br />
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Elder Matthew Taylor<br />
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A few pictures from the last few weeks<br />
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Ohio got the snow we missed this winter</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This poor dog followed them everywhere one day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark at a District lunch</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matthew with recent converts<br />
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Thank you, my dear sons, for being such an example to me. I will never forget this period of your lives and mine. What a sweet and humbling experience this has been. Tomorrow!!!</div>
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Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-46440919107221107612015-01-19T23:10:00.000-08:002015-01-19T23:32:43.333-08:00Nutballs, peanut brittle and fudge, oh my!! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is going to be somewhat of a self-deprecating blog, so be forwarned!~ I am laying it all out there, but I hope you find a little humor along the way (:<br />
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I am in one of those moods where I see no end to the addiction that has plagued me now for the last twenty years. I love food. I love to cook it , bake it, and eat it. There, I said it. That being said, I don't like how I feel when I overeat it, or abuse it. I love the social part of eating, and I so love the friends that I eat it with!! I love the texture of food. The crunch of cookies with a chewy center, the smoothness of a really good piece of chocolate, the blistered cheese on a piece of pizza and the freshly baked roll with its hot center smeared with softening real butter. I love the smell of food. Hot cinnamon oozing from fresh cinnamon rolls, cheese and potato soup with just a bit of sour cream bubbling on the stove, and pumpkin cookies with nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves just out of the oven fill the empty places inside me.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I make rolls about every Sunday</td></tr>
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Dorma, next door neighbor and friend extraordinaire, makes nut balls each Christmas. Lori, MaryAnn and I all eagerly gather in her kitchen on an early December afternoon to make these delectable delights of caramel cream, chocolate and roasted almonds. Idle Isle has nothing over Dorma! She has pefected these tasty little balls of goodness, and we clamor excitedly around her kitchen with our tupperware bowls. Dorma assigns us our roles in the painstaking process, and we obediently take our places. Dorma has melted the chocolate very carefully in the oven at the perfect temperature. She has pre-made the bowls of caramel, and the kitchen is pristine with every ingredient in an assembly line. Two people must rub their hands with corn starch, take a small spoon and dig out the frozen ball of delicious caramel. It can't be too small or too big, and Dorma gets testy if you can't perform this simple task. She takes over the chocolate and we toss the balls into the smooth glossy waves of decadent goodness. She yells at us if we get more than three or four in the pan. I have been known to use a little force and splash a bit. She immediately berates me. Someone has to let the balls then roll down into a bowl of toasted almonds, gathering the appropriate amount of nuts. They have to harden for just a minute, and so you must regulate them to the sides until they are deemed ready to go into our tupperware. I was taken off the nut duty this Christmas because Dorma said I didn't know how to let them roll, and I let too many pile up on the sides. We let her gripe at us at much as she wants because the nutballs are just that good! We cannot wait for the rush of sugar speeding through our bloodstreams as we savor them all season long. Most of us elect not to share them because they must be appreciated for the heavenly little orbits that they are....and our husbands choose to just pop them into their mouths and crunch them down. They are only allowed one or two because of their insensitivity and ingratitude.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dorma's famous Nutballs</td></tr>
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I like the way food looks. When I have been depressed or overwhelmed , I immediately turn to making chocolate chip cookies. Something about creaming all those ingredients together in perfection, baking , and then plopping them out onto their cracked little bellies makes me happy. I like to see the little rivers and craters appear that tell me that they are going to be delicious! After performing the "plop test" I know immediately if I have a success! After having a c-section with Rachel and having four other little kids clamor around me that night after getting home, I baked cookies. Jerry was gone to a meeting, and I wanted the familarity of my kitchen and hot cookies. It brought me instant comfort when I was besieged with thoughts of "how can I possibly raise five kids under seven?" Hah, little did I know there would come another night just like that one after giving birth to twin boys and having seven kids under nine years of age!! My sister Liz would aften call me late at night in those days and say in a small, pleading little voice, "is this the home bakery where I can get hot cookies and milk?" I would be only too happy to oblige. I baked, and we all were a little happier for a moment.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My nephew and niece Brian and Cadie eating hot cookies </td></tr>
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Making food for people has always meant love to me. My dad adored peanut brittle. Mom had a world famous peanut brittle recipe. We learned to snub our noses at other peanut brittle. Hers was thick, shiny and beautiful with lots of peanuts. Every year she would make that brittle for Dad. She never used a candy thermometer. She got the "never fail cup of ice water" and dipped a little of that brittle in it as the candy boiled away. Need to know the soft ball stage? Does it sit on your finger after pulling it from the water? How about the brittle stage? Does it crack between your teeth? I remember sitting around her warm kitchen on a cold winter's night testing bits of candy for her as we munched away at the tiny slivers of brittle. I make it the very same way. After my Dad died at the young age of 56, I made it for George , my dear friend SueAnn's beloved father. He loved it as much as Thiel (my dad). George passed away a couple of years ago, and I still make it. My friends Vickie and Robin like it so we trade candy. Robin makes me ginger molasses cookies, and Vickie (or her husband Rock) give me their famous pecan roll. It's all good...and I do mean good! SueAnn doesn't like peanut brittle so much so I make fudge. I confess that when I sent it home with her daughter Kylie, I wanted to make another batch for myself. Then I told Kylie I would make her a batch just for her (so I could eat some)... When I make the peanut brittle, I look at mom's handwriting on paper, and I am feeled with longing for her. It has been over fifteen years since we made peanut brittle together. I remember thinking that I could not do it without her that first year after her death, but as I looked at her scrawled words on an old recipe book that is blotted with spills I felt her with me. Looking at her handwriting floods me with a sweet remembrance of that childhood home where I felt safe and loved.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom's peanut brittle recipe</td></tr>
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My friend Laurie, who is a far better cook and baker than I, would make cookies on a sunday afternoon while we all waited in piggish anticipation. She lived just down the street and we would walk back and forth between our two houses expecting to see something exciting everytime we opened the door. Not much was ever happening so we baked instead. Our favorite was chocolate chips cookies. Laurie would get a little testy as we would eat them up as quickly as she would pull a batch from the oven. We were not nearly as grateful as we should have been for such delectable treats. Sitting in Ireta's kitchen (her mom) was wonderful. Life was so relaxing then with no kids, and worries for the future. Oh sure, we all whined about when we would be married and have kids. We really did pine for those days when we would know true happiness. We would make bets on who would get married first and be in wedded bliss. Little did we know that life would be a lot more complicated than afternoons at Laurie's table eating cookies, chocolate eclairs and fudge.<br />
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Yup, I have an affection for food. I am trying to figure out why, and I think that I use it in a variety of ways, the most blatant way being a true addiction. <br />
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<i>"Addiction is characterized by inabiltiy to consistently abstain, impairment in behavioral control, craving, diminished recognition of significant problems with one's behaviors and interpersonal relationships, and a dysfunctional emotional response."</i><br />
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I got that from ASAM ( American Society of Addiction Medicine, and I think it sums it up pretty well! Why can I not be addicted to exercise, or cleaning? Everything in moderation they say.... but I wish I were different. Wishing does not make it so, however, and tonight I make no promises about any decisive actions other than to do what I have always done....."sigh, and complain, and fervently resolve to do differently just for tomorrow" . Except the tomorrows are becoming the weeks, months and years, and next year I will be sixty years old. ):<br />
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I want to play with my grandkids, go on trips, and climb the stupid stairs to my house without pain.<br />
Yes, I have an underactive thyroid, and yes, my genetic make-up does not lean toward thin and willowy.....but....eating sensibly can keep the demons at bay. I have been watching "My 600 pound life" and am both amazed and saddened by what I see... There , but for the grace of God go I? Yet, did not these people have a mere fifty pounds to lose at one time? It's all relative. I have decided that for some of us, ten pounds is as hard as a hundred. <br />
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Mom and I attended an Uncle's funeral the year before she passed away and as we stood in the room waiting to close the casket and say our goodbyes, she leaned towards me and whispered something.<br />
I thought she was going to say something loving about Uncle Thayle, but no, she said conspiratorily, "Jane, it's not our fault, I tell you!" "What isn't, Mom?" I queried... "Have you ever been in a room with as many fat people as this, and they are all our relatives!" she whispered back. We contemplated these words as we stopped at Chuck A Rama on the way home.<br />
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Matthew and Mark are coming home in just a month, and the mom who left them at the MTC two years ago will look like the same mom who picks them up. I've changed, but not so much in the physical sense. I wanted them to see the new, fit mom who had conquered the food addiction. But I have changed nonetheless. The wisdom, the gratitude, and the wonderment that I have gained in seeing my own children transformed has in return changed me. For just a little frame of time, I was elevated to a place where I lived vicariously through their experiences in the mission field. We prayed for the people they taught, we fasted for each missionary, we worried and we rejoiced. We were so, so blessed and as excited as I am to see my kids again; I am reluctant to say goodbye to this part of my journey with my full-time missionary children. Rachel's maturity and transformation is in her eyes, her demeanor, and her interaction with people. Being a disciple of Christ has changed her. "She gets it". <br />
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Most people who serve on a mission say this, " I loved seeing people's lives change for the better". Our behaviors and desires can change through the healing, cleansing and enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.<br />
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I hope I can remember this and keep striving as I keep the commandments. Somedays I am earnest, and other days not so much. I long for the true freedom that self-mastery can give me.<br />
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Perhaps next year, I can resolve my relationship with Dorma's nutballs!!<br />
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-49900438046335370992014-12-24T15:58:00.003-08:002014-12-24T19:42:06.525-08:00I love to see the temple<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Rachel is home. It feels pretty good to have a child home. (She is 23, but still my baby) The first of the faithful four missionaries to return home with honor is adjusting to non-missionary life. Jerry and I are adjusting to a home with an adult child. She is doing well, and is making plans for the future. She is still our "Rachel", but wiser, more articulate and so, so strong in her testimony of Jesus Christ and the restored Gospel. We are so thankful for her dedication in serving and testifying in Michigan for the last year and a half. Families are so important. As I wait for the rest of my children to come home from their missions, I am reminded of the eternal nature of families. I think about the recent dedication of our own Ogden Temple and the reason for temples. </div>
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Temples are sacred places where we go to learn , to ponder our existence and to be united with our families. How blessed we are to have one ten minutes away!</div>
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Last May, JoAnn Taylor (Jerry's mom ) was sealed to her husband and children in the Brigham City Temple. Temples are also places where we go to make promises with God. Unlike regular church buildings, only those who are prepared and who hold a special recommend of worthiness can enter into this holy place. However, everyone can feel of its power and beauty. </div>
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We learn about our relationship with God, and our purpose here on earth. "<b>And that all people who shall enter upon the threshold of the Lord's House may feel Thy power and feel constrained to acknowledge that Thou has sanctified it and it is Thy house, a place of Thy holiness</b>." D & C 109:13</div>
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We believe that families can be sealed together for time and all eternity, that relationships will not be lost through death. "Families are forever!"</div>
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JoAnn was not sealed to her husband at the time of his death in 1993. She was active in the LDS faith, but had not received her endowment. The endowment is a gift that one receives in the temple that empowers you and helps you to prepare for eternal marriage. She did not show a great deal of interest in doing so until a wonderful Bishop asked her to read the Book of Mormon, to develop a testimony of its truths. She was very supportive of her children, and as each one of them married in the temple, she sat in the waiting room. She was very much her own person, but when she finally believed something , she believed it with her whole heart. She developed that testimony. (She later told me that the Book of Mormon was a "real page turner") She called one evening as I sat in the living room on a chilly December night. "Would your family like to join me next Saturday in the Ogden Temple as I receive my endowment?" she asked innocently... Well, I could have been knocked over with a feather! (as my mom used to say) We were so happy, and so we met there in the temple a few days later and witnessed her covenanting with her Heavenly Father. All of her family who had recommends were there to rejoice with her.</div>
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And then...this last May for her 85th birthday, her wish was for her family to be sealed to her for all eternity. Jerry and his sisters joined her in being sealed together around the alter in the temple. Most of her grandkids were able to attend. Jamie Kartchner (JoAnn's granddaughter in law ) knelt in proxy for Julie, who died in 1991, Jerry knelt in proxy for his Dad and they were made an eternal family. It was a beautiful Spring day, and will remain forever a beautiful memory in my mind. I am in awe of my mother-in-law and her faith and devotion to God and Family. She is truly an example of courage, of diligence and conviction of one's ideals. She has become not only my husband's mother and my children's grandmother, but my dear friend. I look up to her for so many things, and especially for her desire to be charitable, kind and faithful. She is such an example to those who have the privilege to be acquainted with her. </div>
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JoAnn with some of the great grandkids</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jerry Taylor, Jackie Taylor Kartchner, JoAnn Taylor and Jan Taylor Stauffer </td></tr>
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The family!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JoAnn and some of her grandkids</td></tr>
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Why we build temples</div>
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Ben took this video with his drone camera. It's beautiful!<br />
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The blessings of the temple are many. When I asked Jerry what powerful statement I could make about the temple, he replied with, "The temple is a good place". Yup, he has always been a man of few words. But he is absolutely right about that statement. There are many good places in our lives that give us sanctuary from the world, and teach us things about ourselves and our potential. The temple is a place where we can be magnified, purified, sanctified, strengthened , sealed, ennobled, and perfected. There are other places that are holy and reverent, but the temple allows us to see beyond this earth life and see what lies beyond in the eternities. I am so grateful for my belief that at this time of year when families are convening to celebrate Christmas, my mother, father and brothers who have passed away are also celebrating. I cannot embrace them physically, but I know of their love for us. I am looking forward to being reunited with them someday, and it is in the temple that I often feel them close. <br />
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I am reminded of Christ this Christmas Eve, and his atonement for all mankind that made it possible for us to live after this life is over. I am humbled to know that He knows each one of us. He was not just a mortal man; He is the Son of God. The apostle Paul prayed in behalf of the early Saints, "That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith, that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth and length, and depth, and height; and to know that the love of Christ , which passeth knowledge that ye might be filled with all the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:17-19)<br />
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Merry Christmas everyone!! May you all feel His love in the coming new year!<br />
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<span id="goog_1764133906"></span><span id="goog_1764133907"></span><br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-36999455383547834882014-12-23T22:00:00.000-08:002014-12-23T22:00:34.177-08:00I remember a Christmas..<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 22px; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;">
Christmas Memory "Emily and the Barbie Crayons"</h3>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.4666652679443px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When my children were young, Christmas was such an exciting time for me! It meant that I got to experience the magic of Christmas through their eyes, and I loved every minute of it. I lived vicariously through every first snowfall, the smell of each new Christmas doll, and their shining faces as the Christmas tree was put up. It was almost better than being a child because the giving of presents was so much better than the receiving of them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.4666652679443px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One year, my friends and I decided to make a special present that would totally overwhelm and delight our little girls. Barbie houses were all the rage, and we decided that no cheap cardboard constructed houses would be acceptable. We trudged out to my friend’s workshop after kids were in bed to build these unbelievable doll houses. Night after frigid night, we drove on icy roads to huddle in the cold to carefully construct beautiful houses. They were gorgeous, with tiled roofs, and real carpet. We painted the wood, and pasted in real wallpaper. They were one of a kind, and we could hardly contain our excitement and anticipation as we visualized our daughter’s joy. This would be a Christmas to remember!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.4666652679443px;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That morning, I positioned my husband carefully with the camcorder to capture the magic that our daughter would feel as she gazed upon the most amazing dollhouse to ever behold. She woke, and with her siblings made a beeline into our living room where Santa had left his treasures. She tripped gaily past the magnificent dollhouse to where she picked up her Christmas stocking. She could hardly contain herself as she picked up a package of 69 cent Barbie crayons, and shrieked with pure delight, “Barbie Crayons, I have always wanted Barbie Crayons!!” We tried to get her to notice the huge gift that would be the envy of all her little friends, but she continued to gaze with adoration on the box of crayons, examining each one, and demanding a coloring book so she could try them all out. She did eventually play with her dollhouse, but that Christmas morning taught us all about gift giving, and the magic of childhood. Our children can be happy with so little, and the true spirit of Christmas was forever enhanced by the recording of our little girl reminding us what giving is all about. </span></span></div>
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Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-92105076058501585172014-10-30T21:52:00.000-07:002014-11-01T10:56:02.488-07:00Jerry and I are expecting "again?"It is October 30 and the most magnificent fall I can remember in recent years is coming to a close. The flowers I planted this summer are still in the ground. They look pretty even while wilting because our secondary water was turned off the first of the month. Who could have known we would have such a a warm and gorgeous autumn? My little cherry tree will most surely lose the rest of its leaves this sunday when a cold winter storm is promised. I wanted everything to remain bright and pretty because our Rachel will be coming home this next Wednesday. I think Winter is inevitable, however, and I will succumb to the season.<br />
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I must have been super busy with writing and receiving letters, sending packages, and being faintly aware of the weeks and months flying by. I truthfully have not taken much notice of the passing of time. Did I really ever have four kids at home? Jerry and I have settled quite nicely as "empty nesters" , but sadly have come to realize that the kids were not the messy ones in the nest. I have had to clean up my own things, and really miss Mark on Sundays when I would cook with him picking up right behind me. <br />
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I possess a myriad of feelings: anxiety, excitement, trepidation for the future---but mostly a longing to see and hold my girl again. She has been in my heart and in my prayers these last eighteen months just as she was when I brought her into this world and raised her those 21 years. She will always be my "Wrenny girl", and that won't stop even as she has grown into womanhood. She was a fascinating little bird as a child, and I nicknamed her Wren from early on... I loved her fiercely as I do all my kids, and they will always be my babies. Their happiness and well-being are everything to me. <br />
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I had hoped to change as much as my missionaries have, but alas, I am the same person. I was going to set some goals for self-improvement in all areas. I got myself a "vision" board, put some insightful quotes on it, and looked at it for about a week...... I am a little older, have about five extra pounds I certainly did not need, but I am a little wiser. I like to think it is because of the prayers I have offered, the books I have read, and the experiences I have had through living vicariously through missionary life. My own life is much the same and yet just a little different. <br />
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Rachel's room was used as by Emily and Ruby last summer, and as a nice place to throw all my stuff these last few months. I sure will miss that extra closet space. I feel as if I am expecting a new baby's arrival! I feel the nesting instinct settling in, and want to clean and prepare her little room.<br />
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Rachel loves kids and will , no doubt, become a favorite of her little niece. Ruby has grown to be a big girl of almost twenty months, and Ben and Jess are expecting a little girl in March. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cute announcement by Ben and Jess</td></tr>
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Rachel's letters have been wonderful. A week ago, she said this in one of her final E-mails:<br />
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"I l<b>ove this gospel and I love being a missionary.. I just can't believe it's coming to an end so soon. I know what I've done these last 18 months is exactly what Heavenly Father needed me to do. My mission hasn't been perfect but it's been soo rewarding. I've grown as a person, I've grown in my relationship with Heavenly Father, I've made life long friends and I've been able to help others."</b></div>
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It is my fervent hope she will return home with some new-found skills for life. Her courage has amazed me, and I am not at all sure I could have served a mission. Her heart has been in the right place, and her Heavenly Father knew it. She overcame doubt, fear, and shyness to reach out to other people while putting her own life on hold. In the end, her service gave her life new meaning. </div>
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So, so proud of this girl! Welcome Home, Sister Rachel Taylor! You are much loved and your arrival is eagerly anticipated!!</div>
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Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-13122539205525899302014-09-24T21:49:00.001-07:002014-09-25T16:31:21.119-07:00I have a child's brown leather sandal in my house and no, it does not belong to Ruby. It is probably at least 15 years old and maybe 25 years if it belongs to Ben or Adam. It looks like about a child's size two or three. I need to throw it away because it is warped and weathered and obviously belongs in the trash. Except...when I saw it laying on the freshly mowed grass in the back yard, I teared up. I can't throw it away just yet because it is the last clothing article of my kids' childhoods. Of course I questioned Jerry about this sandal and was not at all surprised to know that it had flown out of the bushes as he mowed the back yard. So there I stood that end of summer day and held that little sandal turning it over in my hands as a flood of memories filled my mind. The image was so clear of of my former little children sitting on the back step with popsicles in their mouths , and their little feet enclosed in salt water sandals. <br />
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Those salt water sandals were a ritual for me and for a few of my friends. We would head to Fred Meyer in the early spring to buy these great sandals that never broke and never wore out. They came in all colors and you could pair them on Sundays with a dress or shorts for the boys. Oh my gosh!!...they looked so cute paired with the little shortalls from Osh Kosh. Because they never wore out, I could keep them for all the brothers and sisters in our household. I suppose they were comfortable; no one ever complained. I did see an older woman with them once and asked her how they felt. She didn't gush about them as I was prone to do, but told me they felt pretty good.... I looked them up and they are a little more expensive than a few years ago!<br />
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I suppose I can confess that our bushes are like a time capsule. We seriously have found so many things from the past. Jerry dug up the fitzer bushes (spelling? ) in the front yard about five years ago, and boy, did we find treasures from long ago. My friend SueAnn used to make fun of us because those bushes always had something sitting on top of them. Toys, Bikes, lunch dishes....(no, seriously) The kids would run around and invariably toss toys and garbage on those ugly bushes.<br />
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A lot of people in our neighborhood had those bushes, and they were all the rage back in the seventies, but they harbored spiders and other creatures. Nothing lasts forever and those bushes were dry and patchy. We don't normally like big projects and try to stay away from anything that is time consuming or too much work, but those bushes had to go. Many people advised us how to do it. Most of them recommended tying ropes around the roots and pulling them out with a truck. Strangers would stop and offer suggestions. We don't own a truck, and we do have a railroad retaining wall. We were a little afraid that the wall would go down and we would have an even bigger mess. Jerry decided that he would dig out each stump by hand. People!!....we are not talking about two or three stumps. He estimates there were about forty. Just when he thought he was done, he would find another one. He took a pickax, shovel and would dig away until he got to the root and then used his bare hands. I don't know if anyone has seen Jerry's hands, but they are big. Not a little big, but really, really huge!! We have never found gloves to fit him. Day by day, he would muck around in the dirt and with sweat pouring down his face dig away at those nasty roots. We had to cut all the folliage off first, (if you can call that prickly , bug infested stuff folliage) and then he dug down to the roots. They were monstrous things with gnarly sharp appendages, and as he released each one from the dirt, he would victoriously hold it aloft ...giving it a toss onto the sidewalk below. Some of the nastier roots took days, and he was, indeed, a man possessed. It took him the better part of the summer to get them all out. Where was I you might ask? Jerry seemed happy enough, and was so into his work , that I puttered around the house, went shopping and out to lunch and left him to it. I believe I gained weight that summer while he actually lost it from all his efforts. As the bushes disappeared, many momentos from the past begin to again reappear. We found Ghostbuster men, the Star Trek Enterprise, and many other once beloved toys. There was also liquor bottles, cigarette packages and a man's wallet containing a driver's license that expired twenty five years ago(:<br />
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As Fall approached, the bushes and roots lay in piles. Kind neighbors helped us gather them up and load them into a trailer for the dump. We then hauled in some top soil and covered everything up. Our neighbor Gary offered us a bunch of rocks from his yard, and the boys hauled them over. Emily was dating Layne at the time and his family owned a rock quarry. He hauled a few down, and placed a few really heavy ones to prove his manliness to Emily. Everything I do is pretty much random, and the word strategy is not in my vernacular. Everyone placed them wherever they deemed appropriate , and it was okay with me. I bought plants on sale, perenials and annuals and planted them without too much thought. I could only think "tall and short" and lots of color..... The garden reflected my personality...messy, but colorful and I loved it! Each spring I would seek out new plants and some came out the next year while others did not. I learned which ones liked a certain soil, and where they liked to be placed. It has been a great joy to me to sift through the soil, to cut and prune and plant. I am completely alone (unless friends drop by) and my thoughts do not plague me as they sometimes do when I am involved in other things. <br />
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I have repeatedly told everyone I hated those bushes, and how happy I was with my flowers. Yet...when that little sandal appeared from the still-ugly bushes in the back, I was transported back to the years when my children were small. I could shut my eyes and still smell the heady scent of childhood. Oh, I missed those years, and the little guys who wore those sandals. I missed holding their warm little bodies as I served and loved them. I remember well putting those sandals on and picking out matching clothes and preparing for the day.<br />
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Now...I am preparing for four big kids to come home. I have not seen those kids for almost two years and I miss them as much or more than the little babies they were....and so excited, yet melancholy for the passage of time. <br />
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The mirror tells me that I am getting older. I do not like it one little bit. I was teaching the vocabulary word "wrinkled" to the kids at school and told them I had wrinkles on my face and around my eyes. One little boy nodded wisely, and replied, "because you're getting old!" Yup, pretty much, I am....and now I tell everyone not to wish the years away. Not babyhood, toddlerhood..nor even the teen years!! I remember just wanting the kids to be able to open doors by themselves and now they are having babies of their own! Thank goodness I have Ruby to hold in my arms, smell the sweetness of her hair, and think about ordering her some salt water sandals next summer. Grandkids are, indeed, the best and I am excited to welcome another one next March!!! <br />
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I know that all stages of life have their joy , and I need to embrace the one I am in right now. Just as my garden continues to replenish itself every year with brilliant colors, the tapestry of my life continues with so many different threads. So very grateful for my many experiences.....<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The walk with your child is for a lifetime</td></tr>
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and needing to remember that although my life has a few weeds as does my garden, I am still able to enjoy its beauty. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Much prettier then the bushes!!</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-21553927052112510422014-08-13T08:37:00.000-07:002014-09-26T20:14:44.498-07:00What's for dinner? Lysol Chicken!!So....Rachel will be arriving home from her mission in less than three months! Hardly possible, right?<br />
She has had amazing experiences in the mission field, and is so glad she made the decision to serve almost two years ago. Our ward has seven missionaries right now, and the other three are serving in Russia, Portugal and Peru! Oh, the things those missionaries have had to eat! Poor Drake has had to swear off hamburger which smelled extremely strange while cooking it, and was full of chunks of bone when he ate it! Paige proved herself to be a true peruvian when she ate a chicken foot, and endeared herself to the people with her enthusiastic consumption of something which is completely foreign to our american palates. Mitchell would eat next to nothing when he left home, and now eats just about anything in Portugal.<br />
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Jerry asked recently, "What do you think Rachel would like to eat when she comes home?" I , rather sarcastingly, retorted, "hmmm...she has been eating anything she likes here in the states, I'm sure she craves nothing.!" However, Rachel is a foodie. She is the one who went to Europe when she was 16 and took pictures of all her dinners so she could drool over them when she got home. No four hundred year old castle pictures for Rachel! Nope...she took a picture of that good soup in Germany! When she was little and at family gatherings, she'd disappear from sight and we always found her eating somethingat a lone at the table. It has long been our joke that she would be a chubby , red haired girl when she grew up. Well, she has beautiful auburn hair, but she is the slimmest of us all despite her love of food. <br />
I think I will make Lysol Chicken and baked potatoes. I peel the potatoes, dip them in butter and onion soup mix and bake them. Rachel loves them. The Lysol Chicken is pretty easy too! You simply marinate it in <b>one cup of soy sauce, one cup of oil, and one cup of sprite. If you want a little bite, add a tsp or two of tabasco. </b>Then you grill it, and it's a tasty meal. At this point you are probably thinking... did I not read "lysol" in the title of the chicken? Why yes you did, and I actually have used lysol (yep, the cleaning agent) in the preparation of this tasty dish. <br />
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Let me go back a few years to when I was making up the marinade one night for Sunday dinner the next day. My niece , her husband and kids were coming up from Orem and I had my own seven kids to feed as well. I was going to use one whole package of premium chicken from Harmons, (because it is trimmed so beautifully and it's the only kind I like although it's pricey) , and have dinner all ready to go except from the grilling part. I had my nice big bowl out, my chicken was cut length-wise in half, and I was multi-tasking by talking on the phone while I assembled everything. I have since always made the marinade first and then added the chicken, but in those days I did it backwards. Chicken in bowl-check, add soy sauce-check- add oil (from large yellow container in cupboard-check.... As I poured from the large yellow container which should have contained vegetable oil...strange fumes arose, and in horror I noticed that I was pouring from a large container of lysol cleaning agent. What the heck?? Why was this container in the cupboard above my oven? Because those boys had put it to the side of my oil instead of under the sink. I hung up the phone, and removed that chicken immediately. I had to save it! Chicken is expensive , especially Harmon's chicken!! I carefully and tenderly washed each piece under hot water and massaged it vigorously. I smelled it, and could not detect any lysol, which you know is pretty strong! I made up a new batch of marinade, and patted myself on the back for an averted sure disaster. Whew!! What a close call! <br />
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Sunday afternoon came and the table was set, potatoes were baking, and the kitchen was even cleaned up in anticipation for our dinner guests. All that had to be done was grill all that chicken. I went out into the sun and stood there musing on the loveliness of the fall day while I stood at the grill. The delicious smell emanating forth gave me no cause for worry......until I brought it in and cut off a small piece to taste for doneness. Arghhhhhh!!! LYSOL!!! Having never ingested it before; I still knew exactly what it was even if I didn't know what had transpired the night before. There was no mistaking it, and the fastidious washing of the chicken had not removed the toxic chemical from its tender flesh. I , of course, went a little crazy and declared that dinner was ruined!! Jerry said, "well, we have baked potatoes and salad!!" "NO", I shouted, "We need meat!" There was only one thing to do....I called Dorma, my next door neighbor and friend of forty years and asked to raid her freezer. She is the complete opposite of me in every way, (organized, prepared, motivated) and had turkey steaks conveniently downstairs. I thawed those babies out , and we had a delicious dinner after all.<br />
Dorma now often prepares Lysol Chicken, and we don't even smile at the name as we mention to each other that we are fixing it. This is the name of our chicken if we prepare it, with or without the lysol. <br />
I actually made some today because it is good to make ahead and use in salads and fajitas. I freeze it quite often after cooking it, and you've got tasty chicken for any recipe. I admit it, I am more of a foodie then Rachel! I have tons of cookbooks just because I like to look at the pictures and read the recipes. Rachel is my one child who likes to cook as much as I do, and I can't wait to see her very soon now.<br />
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She just sent pictures of a church with great entrance and exit signs, how fun!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, it's fully cooked, the light is just being funny....</td></tr>
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yes, it's fully cooked...the red is just the light being funny...Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-38649619464566346672014-08-04T22:18:00.000-07:002014-08-05T07:48:08.148-07:00The bubbergirl and bumps Remember the Forest Gump movie where Tom Hanks says, "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to find?" So true, and sometimes the chocolate is a delicous truffle, and sometimes its the mocha one or heaven forbid, the ginger one. Yeah, I know sometimes different ones for different people! Still, I have had a bad attitude never quite embracing the good times because I am fearful for the road ahead. It prevents me from completely enjoying the taste of the mint chocolate I love. I might have to spit out something nasty! (or give it to Jerry) It's no way to live, believe me, and for years I have planned out the worst possible scenario so that I can be prepared when and if it happens. Then I won't be devastated, I will be resigned because I knew it was coming. If it doesn't, well then... I am pleasantly and happily surprised!<br />
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I like to take Ruby (aka the bubbergirl) for stroller rides when she is at the house. The summer evenings are so pleasant, and she likes to look around as I explain every tree, house and person that we pass along the way. She is totally immersed in her surroundings, and I get to experience the beauty of every day life as I explain it to this little sixteen month old girl. Everything is fascinating to her, and so it becauses fascinating to me once more as I explain the intricacies of a rock on the sidewalk or a tree branch that scrapes the grass.<br />
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One night as we journeyed along the sidewalk, I saw the edge of an uneven sidewalk just ahead. For some reason, I didn't slow down as much as usual, and took it at a nice little clip. I cheerily sang out "bump" as we jolted over that crack and Ruby jostled a bit. I was totally surprised when this little girl burst into tears and with arms raised beg to be picked up! I said , "it's okay, just a bump!" No, it was not okay, and not cajoling on my part was going to comfort her when a bump had turned from a pleasant scenic journey into an unexpected terror. I was a little taken aback as I picked her up, patted her, kissed her little chubby cheek and wondered that such a minor shake-up could disturb her so much. She settled down nicely, and was more than willing to get back in the stroller for the duration of our stroller ride.<br />
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It occured to me that although we don't expect or look forward to those bumps that come along in life, we, too, can be comforted and consoled by our family, friends and our Heavenly Father who knows a lot more than we do as to what we can endure. We move ahead even though the road isn't straight or the path isn't clear. We may not ever know what we are learning from that bump. Life may seem unfair or so overwhelming at times that we dispair in our inability to understand. What lessons do we need to learn, what adjustments can we make in order to cope?<br />
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Elder Orson F. Whitney said, "No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makaes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God."<br />
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I worry about the bumps, and the mountains, and all the trials yet unforseen. I am just that way. A little bit pessimistic and a whole lot fearful. My missionary kids have learned a lot of lessons these past few months, and a two year or eighteen month length of time can certainly be a little bumpy.<br />
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It has not been all they thought it would be, and yet it has been much more than they could have hoped for.... Lots of personal struggles, disappointments, and feelings of inadequancy have come to each one of them. Lots of insights, personal growth and love for the people they meet have also come to them!<br />
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Mark was robbed at knife point last month but was cheerfully optimistic, and actually basked in the notoriety of it all. Although he lost his wallet, watch and a little faith in his fellow men, he was okay He and his companion talked to a couple of news stations and were celebrities amongst their fellow missionaries when their stories were televised on the evening news. <br />
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Bad things happen, and while so much is uplifting and beautiful in this world, we will still experience a lot of sorrow. I know there are lessons to be learned from lifes' struggles, and I know that I have been tutored so many times when I've experienced trials. The past doesn't belong to us anymore and so we go forward and try to love the great things about our journey, and to go on after the not-so-good or even horrible things that happen to us. And....even as I picked up my granddaugher to console her, we in turn can always be comforted by our Heavenly Father. Our Savior has promised to take our yoke upon Him. He knows from firsthand experience all about our pains and afflictions. "He is touched with the feeling of our infirmities" (Hebrews 4:15)<br />
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Well , enough deep thinking for the night! I just wish I could be a little more faithful and optimistic when my bumps come!! I know I would be a lot happier not being so afraid of what's ahead! And you can just forget about the analogy of my eating the chocolates. I love chocolate and have eaten far too much of it this summer. In fact, I've been known to bite around the icky ones, and render them inedible to even Jerry! Now that could be an interesting analogy....<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elders Taylor and SantaMaria after surviving the robbery </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruby Fay Morris ready to take on the bumps</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-65999477049589747392014-06-16T11:40:00.000-07:002014-06-16T12:06:45.481-07:00TimeOne of my favorite books is "Cheaper by the Dozen" by Frank Gilbreth and his sister, Ernestine Gilbreth Carey. Yes, I know there is a show with Steve Martin out with this name, but the book came before it! Major industries would hire Frank Gilbreth, Sr. and his wife Lillian to be efficiency experts. They were industrial engineers who were way ahead of their time. And...that is what they did! They saved time. Someone asked Mr. Gilbreth why he wanted to save time, and what was he going to do with it once he saved it. He replied, "For work, if you love that best, for education, for beauty, for art, for pleasure. He then added, "For mumblety-peg, if that's where your heart lies." I had read this book at least once a year for forty years before I finally looked up "mumblety-peg". It is actually a children's game that was played with pocket knives many years and was even mentioned in Mark Twain's , "Tom Sawyer, Detective". I knew it was old when I saw "children and pocket knives". I always surmised that he meant mumblety-peg as a synonym for "stupid wasting of time". <br />
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I do quite a bit of that myself, and find myself a little frantic about accomplishing great tasks this summer. Too much to do, and so little time! How do I clean, garden , organize and have time for family and friends? Right now, the boy's friends, Alex and Nate are downstairs cleaning out their bedrooms. I try not to go downstairs. It has become a huge collect-all area. When Emily lived with us last summer, she used the rooms as a bit of storage. Sadly, enough, we even put the cat box in Mark's room. Who else is going to use that room? We thought Sam might as well have a quiet moment in there. Well, It's time to rid ourselves of the carpet, (maybe the cat, since he is Emily's cat anyway) clothes from Ben and Adam when they were in their teens, and really ugly christmas decorations. I used to save clothes, and pass them down. My babies are twenty, and we have clothing that needs to go to a third world country. I see a big DI run in the near future!!<br />
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People who know me know that I am somewhat of a hoarder. I like to throw out the term ADD , so that I have an excuse as if a medical term will give me allowance. Lest you think the worst of me, our house could hardly be condemned, but we do not always have a "place of everything and put that everything in its place". My time is spent playing and teaching piano, reading wonderful books, and spending time with family and friends. I would like to be the type of person who can keep up on everything , and I often agonize over my inability to do so. I would like to figure out how to save time, and to do the things I want to do, yet feel comfortable in my space. I have spent a lifetime enjoying the quiet moments, but feel I could enjoy them a little more if I were a little like my friends Dorma and SueAnn. They are workaholics, however they know how to have fun. <br />
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Kylie, SueAnn's daughter, said that she lay last night in the quietness listening to her husband breathe, and it was wonderful. She spoke about the little moments in life. She is a lot like her mom, always accomplishing something , and so she relishes those quiet moments where we can just think and appreciate. I suppose that is what I am trying to do this summer and yet....time...what to do with it?<br />
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It has occurred to me that the next twenty years are going to go even faster than the last twenty, and I am a little melancholy thinking of how quickly time passes. How to spend it? How to accomplish the things that matter, and yet....truly enjoy the moments? I think I would like to write more, to read an hour every day and to get that exercise that I really need. <br />
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Stephen R. Covey, who while a terrific example of achieving success spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally....makes me feel as if I cannot do it all. He says that if we spend one hour a day total on the three types of this exercise, we will see fabulous results. We must never get too busy "sawing to sharpen the saw, too busy driving to get gas." I think I really am going to try to take a balanced, systematic (and this word is not in my vernacular) regular approach to improve the capacity of my body and brain. He speaks of habit. He says that in his opinion, "habit is the most single, beneficial discipline in life." He says that he still struggles, but always tries. If every writer or speaker postponed doing so until they were perfect, nothing would ever be written or spoken!<br />
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My mom gave me a book when I was first married. She knew I loved Stephen R. Covey, but although I read parts of the book, I soon became crazy busy with kids and life. I pulled this book out this morning, and got a little teary, when I read , "For Jane, I love you!, love Mom". She was my biggest advocate, and my cheerleader when I was overwhelmed with responsibilities. I believe she still looks in on me from time to time, and wants me to succeed. What parent would not? <br />
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I am going to read this book from cover to cover and recommend it highly to anyone who feels "they cannot do it all". It is entitled, "The Divine Center". Stephen Covey says, "divinely centered people savor life. Because their securities comes from within instead of from without, they have no need to categorize and stereotype everything and everybody in life to give them a sense of certainty and predictability. They see old faces freshly, old scenes as for the first time. They rediscover people each time they meet them. They are interested in them. They ask questions and get involved. They are present when they listen. They learn from them. They see no one bigger than life. They are not overawed by General Authorities, top government figures, or celebrities. They build on their strengths and strive to complement their weaknesses with the strengths of others."<br />
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Yes, I think its time to quit wishing I was someone else and learn to be happy in both the quietness and business of my own life. I know that there are others out there who compare themselves with others. Isn't it wonderful we are all so different? Different doesn't have to be superior or inadequate.<br />
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And, so, even as I marvel over Dorma's carefully organized kitchen cupboards, I will do what I can to make myself comfortable with who I am, and find ways to give myself the time to do what I truly what to accomplish. Perhaps, then the guilt and inferiority complete will pass away.....as well as the next twenty years. but joyfully without the comparison I have always carried with me.<br />
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Thanks Nate and Alex for getting me thinking!! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">service is a process, and hopefully the process will give Mark a beautiful new room!</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-78450227384664890902014-06-14T20:49:00.002-07:002014-06-15T08:44:20.157-07:00Baptisms<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last Saturday I had the wonderful opportunity to participate in a baptism for Kofi and Ama Herrick. I was elated to witness these two children coming to the waters of baptism , to receive the Holy Ghost and to be members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Amy, their mother, had asked me a few weeks ago to play the piano, and I was so happy to do so. I played my favorite baptism song appropriately named Baptism, and the words are so special that they never fail in making me cry.<br />
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"Jesus came to John the Baptist in Judea long ago,<br />
and was baptized by immersion in the river Jordan's flow.<br />
To fulfill the law said Jesus, when the Baptist questioned why,<br />
and to enter with my Father in the Kingdom up on High.<br />
Now we know that we must also witness faith in Jesus word,<br />
be baptized to show obedience, as was Jesus Christ, our Lord."<br />
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I work with Amy at Club Heights Elementary School where we teach ESL (English as a second Language). She's the one with the Master's degree , and I am the one who gets to have the neatest friend/boss in the world! She is a talented and magnificent teacher, and I have learned so much from her. Still, the most valuable lessons I have witnessed these past few years are in the love, devotion and faith she and her husband had in making it possible for two kids in Ghana, Africa to join their family.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kofi and Ama Herrick</td></tr>
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The parents of one of their friends were in Africa for work, and had visited an orphanage in Ghana where they discovered a little spitfire of a girl named Ama. They fell in love with her and would bring her back to the home where they were staying. Amy had always known that adoption was the way she wanted to extend her family, and when she heard of this little girl, she and Chad proceeded to begin the long and arduous journey of adopting Ama. Through many hurdles, she became theirs and was sealed to them six months later in the Logan Temple. She spoke the language Twi which is prominent in Ghana, but quickly picked up the English language. It was kind of sad that she would say, "huh?" when speaking on the phone to the Pastor. She seemed to lose her own language so quickly, but was eager to understand and be understood in English. <br />
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When Amy visited the orphanage early on in the adoption process, she noticed a young boy who took special care to protect Ama. They were not sister and brother, but treated each other as if they were, and had a special bond. She was told his name was "Isaac" but the name given to him at birth by a mother who could not keep him, was Kofi. She simply could not get this child out of her mind and heart, and convinced Chad, (who is likewise a wonderful and spiritual guy) that they needed this boy in their family. She had asked him in the orphanage if he would "like to come to America" and he replied "yes". She did not know the circumstances of his being in the orphanage but made inquiries and found that he had been placed there at a very young age by a crippled mother who could not care for him. The mother would see her son usually once a year, and when approached by Amy about the chance of a new life in the United States, turned the matter over to Kofi. When he was asked if he would want to be adopted, he replied that yes, he would! Kofi's mother said simply, "the boy has spoken."<br />
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Well, as time went on, I got to see first-hand the many obstacles that stand in the way of international adoptions, and we as a family prayed for both Ama and Kofi to "come home". Lots of tears, prayers, faith , time, and money were expended as both Chad and Amy traveled that long way to Ghana several times to bring Kofi home at last. It was so tiring and both emotionally and financially draining, but they never looked back on their decision. I still remember stepping into our classroom and seeing her shining face after she received word that her son was joining their family. She didn't speak, but there was such a glow emanating from her I will never forget the confirmation I felt before she spoke that this boy was being allowed to join this choice family. What a glorious moment it was!! There were still a couple of determents ahead, but the story had an incredible ending, and Amy was able to see an entire village turn out to wish Kofi farewell. Amy and Kofi's mother shared a hug, and cried because as mothers, they both wanted the same thing. They wanted Kofi to have amazing opportunities and a chance for good health and education.<br />
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I can scarcely comprehend the love and sacrifice for two orphaned children whose future is now so bright with endless possibilities. Kofi talks to his mother in Ghana regularly and knows he will return some day to see her. He speaks English well, (the King's English that is, and they all had a good laugh when he told his Mom he needed "knickers" for school!!) He loves soccer, got a 4.0 last quarter in school and watches "Separated at Birth episodes" on Netflix with his Mom. A very bonding experience! (sorry I told, Amy..I thought since Kofi told on you, I could!! ) He has a fun and quirky sense of humor and makes his family laugh a lot. The school and neighborhood have been so great about accepting and befriending these kids. He can be a typical moody fourteen year old at times, but is mostly fun-loving and helpful. In fact, Chad warned Amy that the neighbors might suspect he was brought over to be an indentured servant because Kofi took so long to impeccably clean the family car! Ama loves her bike, playing with her sister Emma, and electronics. These kids can operate any video game and computer as if they had grown up with them. Ama is a bit of a drama queen, but has firmly entrenched herself into the hearts of her family. She is passionate beyond belief and according to Kofi was quite dramatic as well in the orphanage. When asked by Amy as to why he watched out for her there, he stated, "she is my sistah!!" He knew then as he knows even more strongly now that blood does not make a family, love does....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AL1SJoF4Gas/U5v7BKjU4FI/AAAAAAAAA08/7Hs48YlnYIM/s1600/kofiandsoccer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AL1SJoF4Gas/U5v7BKjU4FI/AAAAAAAAA08/7Hs48YlnYIM/s1600/kofiandsoccer.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kofi Nyarko Herrick</td></tr>
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Ama turned eight in April, and it is in the age of accountability and baptism in our church. Ama was no different than the other eight year olds; she wanted to be baptized! Kofi and Ama had been raised as christians in the orphanage, and loved their pastor dearly. To Kofi, there was not a question as to whether he would be baptized in the faith of his new family. Amy and Chad had told him of their beliefs, stipulating that he was not expected to join until he fully understood. He boldly declared that if his family were members, then he would also be one! He received the discussions from the missionaries, read his scriptures, attended church, and declared that he would be baptized along with Ama.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hwAKSC7L6Zo/U5v8EJsh39I/AAAAAAAAA1A/fXANbKYaGrQ/s1600/amainwinter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hwAKSC7L6Zo/U5v8EJsh39I/AAAAAAAAA1A/fXANbKYaGrQ/s1600/amainwinter.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ama Mansah Herrick</td></tr>
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As I played the piano in that room and looked over friends and family who had gathered there to witness this sacred ordinance, I was filled with such insight and joy. It occured to me that my own missionary son, Mark, was baptizing a lady named Linda that very day. Linda had stopped smoking, read everything the missionaries gave her, and developed a testimony of the Savior Jesus Christ and the restored gospel. These missionaries give hope to people that this life is not all there is, and that obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel bring true happiness and joy in the eternities.<br />
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I thought about taking the name of Christ upon us, being his disciples, and what a gift we receive through the laying on of hands. What a blessing my own baptism and gift of the Holy Ghost has been in my own life as I move through mortality experiencing both sorrow and joy.<br />
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As disciples, as Christians, we want that feeling of physical and emotional closeness, of being cherished and protected under the Savior's wings. I have a picture my kids gave me of Jesus looking over the city of Jerusalem. He said, "Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem...how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings and ye would not".<br />
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We all want safety, peace and shelter. We all have situations that frighten and challenge us. We live in a fallen world, we are afflicted and oppressed. We have a need for refuge even as Ama and Kofi did, and we need to feel that there is a safe place of love and shelter. <br />
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Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "When it is dark enough, men see the stars." No one prays for adversity, but it comes, and as Christians, as disciples of the Lord we cannot turn out back on him. A Christian has faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, that He is the literal son of God sent by His father to suffer for our sins in the supreme act of love we know as the Atonement. We take upon us the name of Christ through being baptized and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands by those holding His priesthood authority. Being a Christian means talking about what you believe and letting people know you love and respect them. <br />
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I have four missionary children, two sons and two daughters who are currently doing just this....being disciples of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. It is so difficult at times, but they are strengthening themselves and learning to love unconditionally. If we who also believe, behave with honor, dignity while exhibiting faith, we will rejoice someday even we face trial and affliction in this life. The Savior lives, and he loves us, and as we minister to others, we minister to Him. Our Savior's path leads to eternal happiness, joy and everlasting life. I am so thankful for the example of those ministering to others and know they will be beyond blessed!! Thank you Herrick family and Taylor missionaries and so many others in my life for your discipleship and for your example to me! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6h_rQWl5ei0/U5v5P_k8hnI/AAAAAAAAA0o/Z59i7aa86zA/s1600/mark%2527sbaptism.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6h_rQWl5ei0/U5v5P_k8hnI/AAAAAAAAA0o/Z59i7aa86zA/s1600/mark%2527sbaptism.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elder Mark Taylor before performing Linda's baptism</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oiv7xZ6cbeU/U5v5d4rkVtI/AAAAAAAAA0w/BVuQHFGuEYM/s1600/mark%2527sbaptism2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oiv7xZ6cbeU/U5v5d4rkVtI/AAAAAAAAA0w/BVuQHFGuEYM/s1600/mark%2527sbaptism2.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother Robertson is baptized that same day</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-swP10AjBjpA/U5v8b84ZsaI/AAAAAAAAA1M/08kygOlGoSY/s1600/amyandfamily.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-swP10AjBjpA/U5v8b84ZsaI/AAAAAAAAA1M/08kygOlGoSY/s1600/amyandfamily.jpg" height="388" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chad, Madelyn, Kofi, Ethan, Amy, Ama and Emma Herrick</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-10232577808668458692014-05-28T21:28:00.000-07:002014-05-28T22:04:16.189-07:00Chocolate or a bruise, It's all the same...People.....if you see someone with a piece of parsley on their tooth , an inside- out sweater, a little chocolate smudge on their cheek, or heaven forbid, the mother of them all....a skirt tucked into undergarments exposing what should never be exposed....please be kind and tell them. Alright...maybe a perfect stranger would not welcome a stranger pointing out the parsley or sweater mistake, but everyone wants to know if they are showing something they ought not to be showing. (except for some of the people at Walmart)<br />
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I have had things in my teeth, various garments on backwards and inside out, and people who know me well know of the infamous viewing "and this has a multiple meaning" at the funeral home. My own husband who I had gently (okay, not so gently ) only minutes pointed out the oreo cookie crumbs on his lips...neglected to tell me my broomstick skirt was tucked into my undergarments. No, I did not even have on pantyhose. I had availed myself of the facilities moments before getting into the car and had washed my hands carefully. Not as careful about smoothing out my skirt. I stood in the funeral home foyer greeting members of my neighborhood and being oh, so gregarious in spite of the fact that I was at a friend's viewing and my unmentionables were showing. Jerry is usually clueless and even more so on this night. After a few long minutes, a stranger was charitable enough to come to me, cushion my head against her cheek, and whisper urgently, "honey, your skirt is tucked inside your underwear." Oh, the horror I felt, and immediate hatred towards poor Jerry who still didn't get it. I hurriedly backed against a wall and frantically yanked until the offending piece of skirt was dislodged and once again was .... covering my fleshy behind and thighs. Yes, I know the description is horrid, but the event was even more so....<br />
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Karen , my friend and Principal , laughs hysterically over the "viewing" story, and so she laughed even harder when we met up at her niece's wedding reception. I was going to skip the refreshments, but the chocolate fountain called out to me. I got a couple of strawberries, and stuck those babies under that delicious melted chocolate, and then Jerry and I made out way towards the exit. I saw Becky, a former Physician's Assistant I had taken Bethany and the boys to and stopped to chat! We carried on a happy conversation for a few minutes. I then ran into Alison Tanner, who is about as oblivious as I am most days. She was as delightful as ever, and we carried on a fine conversation about our missionary children. Karen came upon the two of us, and without any hesitation said, "What is all over your cheek and chin, chocolate?" I immediately put up my hand and came away with a fair amount of brown stuff...yeah, it was chocolate. I was just a little hostile, and said to Alison, "Why would you not tell me I had this all over my face?" Alison said ever so innocently, "Well, I thought maybe it was a bruise, remember when you fell down on the sidewalk?" Yes, I fell down on the sidewalk a couple of years ago, and broke my foot, my hand, and had a huge hematoma over my eye causing a really black bruise. This did not look like that! I don't know if Alison felt properly chagrinned, but I was mildly irritated. Then, I just shrugged and laughed because this kind of thing happens to me all the time. Only..if I am this clueless now, what will I be in ten or twenty years? Maybe I will have to stay confined at home since I can't dress, walk or feed myself properly! Laurie, the mother of the bride, said the story was appropriate for each one of us. I am the one who is always flubbing up, Alison is oblivious to the plight of others, and Karen tells it like it is...<br />
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Yes, I know this post has nothing to do with missionary work or the faithful four, but I am venting tonight. I just wanted to write. It has been rather therapeutic, so thank you ! Sometimes I get a little down on myself because I have so many of these stories that seem to bolster the fact that I am kind of a ninny. Do these things happen to other people? Sometimes I think my purpose in life is to make other people feel superior, so there you have it, and you are welcome!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bq7Vjl8ZaDM/U4az9tpbZnI/AAAAAAAAAzo/kXcCNOG_B9o/s1600/badeye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bq7Vjl8ZaDM/U4az9tpbZnI/AAAAAAAAAzo/kXcCNOG_B9o/s1600/badeye.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was my eye right after I fell, it got much worse with each passing day..<br />
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I am sorry I do not have a picture of the mishap with the skirt or the chocolate!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jLg33JOLe2w/U4a2o2sRBQI/AAAAAAAAAz0/mkp1u6ClTCM/s1600/blackeye.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jLg33JOLe2w/U4a2o2sRBQI/AAAAAAAAAz0/mkp1u6ClTCM/s1600/blackeye.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At least I am smiling</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-30953906844631566202014-05-11T21:07:00.001-07:002014-05-11T21:07:18.448-07:00Mother's Day 2014I have never been a fan of Mother's Day, but this one was a lot of fun. I get a little embarrassed over any accolades, and shy away from any compliments sent my way. Like most mothers I love my kids, and just tried to do my best most of the time. Fatigue, impatience and frustration often got in the way , but I loved being a mom to little kids. Now I am a mom to big kids! They don't sit in your lap, and cuddle much... I miss the snuggling and the kisses, and so I bestow them all on my little granddaughter, Ruby, (aka bubbergirl) . <br />
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Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and so it was with an aching mother's heart that I beheld the most beloved faces of my missionaries. I have not skyped with Mark since he left over a year ago, and, oh...it was so good to see his face. I told him I wanted to kiss his dimples, just the way I did when he was little. He looked so handsome!<br />
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Bethany looked good, calm and happy. She begged us to ask her questions, but when confronted that way...we couldn't come up with any good ones. We went and hauled Marty the Cat in to say hello. He was a little sleepy and didn't give much of a response. There were questions we could have asked, but not while her companion and a family sat behind her! I am sorry I didn't snap a picture, nor did I get one of Rachel Skyping us. I suddenly remembered while talking with the boys that I had a phone and immediately took a couple of pictures. Rachel looked just the same. She talked with the same quiet hesitation, but with a little more determination and confidence. So good to see these kids! I hungrily drank in their faces, and remembered them as my babies, and all the love was still there for their happiness, their welfare and their continued success. Matthew seemed a little serious, and Ben got "him" on the iPad and took him around the house for a virtual tour. We had our two boys together, talking, and asking each other questions. What fun to see their interaction! They spoke a little spanish to each other, and asked questions about their missions.<br />
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Matthew: "Why the flip do you own a 700 dollar bike when you use a car most of the time?" I have been biking a year on a used bike they found in the shed behind the Mission Home!"<br />
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Mark: "Well, it looks like the biking isn't helping your physique! Why are your cheeks puffy? How much do you weigh?" What! 215!! That's outrageous! What are you eating?"<br />
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Matthew: " I drink a kale shake every day my companion prepares for me! My legs have huge muscles!" We have to fix our own food, no one here will feed us!" They passed around a dinner schedule and no one signed up!"<br />
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Mark: "We get fed all the time! I just had ribs, they were the best!"<br />
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(Matthew appears a little glum at this news)<br />
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Matthew: "Well, are you teaching anyone?"<br />
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Mark: Our most promising investigator is a sweet old ninety year old lady named Linda who has no teeth." (imitates Linda, by pulling his lips under his teeth, and talking incoherently) We would like to baptize her, but we are not sure she will live through it!"<br />
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Matthew: "Yes, we are teaching, and...doing lots of service projects". side note...apparently there are some real hoarders in Matthew's area<br />
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What a blessing to have them call a few minutes apart. We were not sure how to handle it, but thank goodness Ben was here and promptly got out the iPad. I am completely blown away by today's technology. Rachel remarked that it was like being in our dining room. She could see the whole family eating dinner, and I showed her homemade rolls which she said she missed most! Bethany and Mark gave me a list of things they need shipped to them, and all too soon, the conversations came to an end. I didn't cry this time after talking to them. It was so surreal, and yet completely natural at the same time. It was as if time had stood still, and we were so thankful just to see them and know they are happy and busy. <br />
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I am grateful to be a mother. I often joke that Heavenly Father gave us good kids because we are a little dense and very ADD. He knew we couldn't handle the big problems. Yes, we had a little difficulty losing them every now and then when they were little, but as I see them as adults....we have not lost them at all. They have totally "arrived" and are making their mark in the world. <br />
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Happy Mother's Day to those blessed woman who influence the children in their lives!!! It really does take a village to raise a child. I can scarcely take credit for my children's accomplishments when they have had such wonderful examples throughout their formative years. Thanks to all those who have loved and cared about my kids. I needed lots of help, and I always received it!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Il5ydEogvLY/U3BH20_nYqI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/A9_u6EvpzG4/s1600/matthewmarkbenskype.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Il5ydEogvLY/U3BH20_nYqI/AAAAAAAAAzQ/A9_u6EvpzG4/s1600/matthewmarkbenskype.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben, Matthew and Mark</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gEObf9BRYhw/U3BH49Bc1rI/AAAAAAAAAzY/NxJY8cjq1TU/s1600/matthewmarkskype.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gEObf9BRYhw/U3BH49Bc1rI/AAAAAAAAAzY/NxJY8cjq1TU/s1600/matthewmarkskype.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">together for the first time in thirteen months:D</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-17175730921229384072014-04-30T21:40:00.001-07:002014-04-30T22:00:51.404-07:00Music and MartycatI grew up loving music. My parents taught me to love Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Chopin, Schubert, Mozart, etc, etc. My brother, David, taught me to love Bach. The two and three part inventions soothed me, and I loved learning to play the intricate part of the fugues. Yeah, I love all genres, (except jazz) but I love the classics. The Brandenburg Concerto can make me positively euphoric!<br />
It has been my privilege to teach piano for about twenty four years, and I have truly loved it. Yes, it gets tiring at times, but the satisfaction of teaching someone to play something truly magnificent is so rewarding. And.... teaching "Mr. Frog is full of Hops" year after year is also very rewarding in its own right. It's all good. We are getting ready for our summer recital, and although it's taxing, it is one of my favorite parts of teaching piano. I love that the kids work and work at one piece until it is perfected. Jerry can now hum quite a few selections that he hears each night! I am sure their parents get tired of hearing the songs, but it never gets old for me.<br />
It was my wish that my children would learn to play, and so I taught each one of them. All seven can play, but Adam, Bethany and Mark are the ones who enjoy it the most. I adore the violin, and so it became my fevered hope that I would have my darling twin sons learn this instrument and play together. How cute would that be? Alas, Mark rebelled after a very upsetting recital and declared he would no longer take lessons. Matthew kept trying gamely and was able to get past the squeaky, scratchy sound of the novice violin player. He and a good friend, Drake Larsen, took from Steve Shupe, (old man Shupe as they affectionally call him) and actually started to sound pretty good!!<br />
Drake's mother and my good friend, Alisa, and I ran with this, and started to prepare the boys to go on the road with their talents (neighborhood and ward) . Mark was still taking piano and seemed to really be liking it. The boys were eleven when we decided they would play, "As I have Loved You" as a trio with Drake and Matthew at the violin, and Mark accompanying them on the piano.<br />
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It took a lot of work, bribery, and threats to get them to be able to perform this one number. I would not have called any one of them gifted by any means, but we were determined that our three cute boys would perform it well. Many nights were spent trying to get them in sync with each other. Mark would play away in his own little world while Drake scratched his nose, and Matthew stared away into the distance (he is his mother's son). The practice sessions were further hindered by the presence of our large cat, Marty. As soon as the trio would commence, he would creep, usually unnoticed , into the living room where his apparent hatred of the combination of strings and piano would drive him to attack the innocent musician. Usually it was the violinist, but occasionally he would even claw the unsuspecting pianist. Alisa and I were concentrating on each note being played correctly, and the sudden yelp of the victim would startle us into seeing the cat sink its' sharp claws whatever body part he could reach. We never knew where he was, and we would banish him when the first altercation occurred, but when the next practice session began, the cat was lying in wait. One would think it would affect the practicing, but either the boys secretly got a kick out of making Marty crazy, or we just got caught up in the music....either way, I think it heightened the dynamics. The boys played their number beautifully and we couldn't have been prouder.<br />
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The boys have been out on their mission over a year now, and Mark and Matthew have played the piano. Matthew's mission president asked us to send his violin out to Ohio, and he has enjoyed playing at conferences and meetings. Drake, of course, is in Russia and doesn't get the opportunity as much. We miss the boys and their music. They got to the point where they could "jam" together and create neat arrangements. Gone was the day when Alisa and I begged for "just one more time through". They would practice on their own! <br />
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In December, Drake's younger brother, Ted was asked to play at a Relief Society program. He came over with his mom and pulled out his violin. Alisa and I got a little emotional over the fact that the boys were gone, and here was little Ted taking up the reins. Umm....and then, in came the cat. We had quite forgotten how much Marty despised the violin. We got pretty excited and begged Ted to let us take pictures to send to the missionaries. Ted was very courageous, and played away , full knowing that he was about to be attacked by a cat who hadn't had his claws nipped in some time. I played the piano.......<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_EvgA8MiGmg/U2HNnAdPAeI/AAAAAAAAAyY/x2ZfL89xOfs/s1600/2013-12-09+17.40.47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_EvgA8MiGmg/U2HNnAdPAeI/AAAAAAAAAyY/x2ZfL89xOfs/s1600/2013-12-09+17.40.47.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ted is anticipating "the Attack"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4St3gz8mSxM/U2HN06Mm5II/AAAAAAAAAyg/DEn3EGo64N4/s1600/martycatviolin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4St3gz8mSxM/U2HN06Mm5II/AAAAAAAAAyg/DEn3EGo64N4/s1600/martycatviolin.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Look"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tZNYGwCxf2k/U2HN5-ZQT_I/AAAAAAAAAyo/WhkME8jj1UI/s1600/lastmarty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tZNYGwCxf2k/U2HN5-ZQT_I/AAAAAAAAAyo/WhkME8jj1UI/s1600/lastmarty.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You know I despise violin music!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ynfib7Ffy9U/U2HOAqGWPcI/AAAAAAAAAyw/HzVsEzOIaPw/s1600/marty1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ynfib7Ffy9U/U2HOAqGWPcI/AAAAAAAAAyw/HzVsEzOIaPw/s1600/marty1.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ted is not too wounded and keeps playing</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ArnAsFyEE8s/U2HOJx2Y_PI/AAAAAAAAAzE/oJO0jpdhV4E/s1600/martyviolin2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ArnAsFyEE8s/U2HOJx2Y_PI/AAAAAAAAAzE/oJO0jpdhV4E/s1600/martyviolin2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marty has abandoned the cause</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">...... while Ted took up his bow, and Alisa snapped pictures of the perpetrator. Mingled with our laughter was the awareness that time passes all too quickly, and the little boys who groaned and fought us with each practice session were far away. We never thought we'd get the musical numbers completed , let alone see three small boys grow into manhood. It was very bittersweet, and I know that both Alisa and I felt our heartstrings ping just a little, even as Ted made his violin strings sing with the strains of a Christmas melody. Music soothes the soul, and I am so glad the boys are able to uplift others with their talents. Alisa...I think we will have to demand a violin/piano trio next February when they come home...including Martycat!</span><br />
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-55877212387195554692014-04-20T22:41:00.000-07:002014-04-20T22:43:36.999-07:00Cherry Blossoms<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have always wished for wisdom, inspiration and courage. I find myself often worrying about the future, and neglecting to enjoy the moments. At this stage of my life with four kids in the mission field and three others married and on their own, I am bewildered at how quickly my life has passed. I feel like Jacob in the Book of Mormon where he says "our lives passed away as if it were unto a dream". Every day passes more quickly than the day before, and I , being the incessant worrier that I am, wonder that I have not done all that I should have....and am running out of time!<br />
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And then, a sweet knowledge of the Gospel dulls that other worry and reminds me that we have time. That this life will continue unto the next and become eternity because of the Atonement of our Savior Jesus Christ. He has a future for us, and we shall know the fulness of it in the hereafter. If we are faithful, if we persevere, if we embrace all that life has to offer....we will be brought into His presence and crowned with glory, immortality and eternal life. </div>
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I find myself having to cultivate new hope every day! There are so many pitfalls in mortality. I do not pretend to know and understand some of the deep sorrows that come to many in this life. I find myself often unable to watch the news because I anguish over the trials that some must face. </div>
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My faith tells me that all will be rectified, and that we will come to understand the winds of adversity. Even so, sometimes it is the small things in life that cause me worry and self-doubt. </div>
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I admit that I fall short in my daily commitments to be better, to be stronger , to accomplish more! Elizabeth Edwards (love her writing) said that she hoped her children remembered that when" she stood in the storm, and the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails. </div>
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I talked to my friend Laurie who is very blunt in her perspective on life and its' joys and sorrows. She asks me all the time "why do you worry? concentrate on what is good!" "live in the moment!" I told her about my little cherry tree and how I worried that the wind would come and blow away the blossoms before I had a chance to enjoy them. (don't know why that came up) She said, "Go outside and look at it now...enjoy it tonight in case they do blow away tomorrow!" I thought about that. I thought about that fact that every Spring the blossoms appear. I don't have to do anything; they just show up one random day every April. They might blow away before their time to fall, and inevitably they do just that...because that is what they are supposed to do! The tree grows leaves, and then in the fall they change to brilliant colors, shrivel and fall to the ground. But there is always a Spring!! I will see blossoms again!</div>
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How grateful I am for the Springs in my life. Even though I may have allowed weaknesses to develop in my character and made poor choices, there is always a redemptive power. Because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I can always be grateful for the season of Spring and the rebirth of the world around us. We can also be grateful for the winters of our lives and be honed and refined when adversity comes to us. </div>
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What a wonderful Easter spent with family and contemplating the blessings of my life. I am so proud of four kids who are testifying of Christ in the mission field. I cannot even comprehend the magnitude of the Atonement, but I know that because of His perfect love for me, I shall be able to surmount the storms in my life. </div>
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Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-8895426986667862012014-03-29T14:09:00.003-07:002014-03-29T14:09:45.089-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I received this picture I was startled by the change I could see in Mark. Physically, he looks bigger and older. While I know that one year has passed since I have seen my son, this one picture reminds me that time is passing all too quickly. It has been said that the only thing constant is change, and I still resist it even if the change is good.<br />
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Mark is now serving in Oklahoma. He finally admitted in his last e-mail that Vernon, Texas was a little difficult. He said, "I'm not gonna lie, it was really hard". I am sure he has grown from his experience, and is now on a new adventure.<br />
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Rachel is in Waterford, Michigan and is a Sister Training Leader. She loves it, and although she also had a rough go of it in her last area admits to some real growth. She says she has more patience, more love for the scriptures, has developed an ability to find the good in others, and is so grateful for trials.<br />
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Matthew was just reassigned to Madison, a very rural area of Ohio, where to his dismay---he is again riding a bike. He says his heart sank when he heard the news because he is so tired. He has been on a bike his entire mission, but he says it is a beautiful part of the country and he will learn to love it.<br />
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Bethany is still enjoying Canyon Country where she taught a very nice lady named Shirley who was baptized. Bethany says she is like a Grandma, and loves her dearly.<br />
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So the missionaries are doing well, and are changing for the better. I, who just ate an entire roll of Girl Scout Thin Mints, am not so sure. I marvel at the fortitude of my kids, and am so thankful for their service in the mission field. I am home on this overcast day trying to muddle through the housework (it's just me and Jerry living here, for pete's sake) and wanting to go and curl up with a book.<br />
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Rachel will be home in just six months, and so it begins. This period of time was not so very long after all and like it or not, more change will be forthcoming as they all come home and resume their lives.<br />
Mark stated that "missions are way easier than real life!". He might have a point. I do know that I need to gather my thoughts, my courage and my resolve to conquer a few things myself. Every day we face choices that will change us for the better, leave us stagnant, or worse....take us backwards.<br />
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Spring is coming, and I feel just a little bit better about accomplishing some tasks. I am not sure why I am always at war with myself, but I would love to gain self mastery. I think it is one of the most important things we can develop. I believe I will put on some music and get to accomplishing something...anything!! I need to pretend that a very important person is going to come and go through my house! pause..... Ah oh...Dorma just called. The Women's Conference meeting is tonight! aack!! Now I really do need to hurry!!<br />
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Happy Spring Vacation , everyone!!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel must be imagining Spring!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matthew at the Cleveland Zoo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark---looking very contemplative</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bethany, Shirley and Sister Wood</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-30383191089367068062014-02-17T22:15:00.000-08:002014-02-17T22:50:18.195-08:00Disneyland with BestiesThe "inner circle" so named by my friend MaryAnn's son consists of me and four close friends. I am a people person and have many wonderful people in my life who I consider my close friends. These four are women I have traveled with over the course of thirty plus years. With my last four kids out of the house serving missions, my friends have become even more important to me. You might well ask, "aren't you married, Jane?" Well, yes, I am.... Jerry, of course, is a very important person being my husband and all. and I do relish time spent with just him in the quietness of our home. He has even started accompanying me on my errands which is rather unusual for him. However, he does not like to spend money and has been fairly vocal about his dislike for Disneyland, a favorite place of mine.<br />
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For my 58th birthday, my friends and I decided we were going to make it to Disneyland before we were too old to hobble around. MaryAnn was unable to come, but Dorma, Debbie, Lori and I were stoked on the idea. I saved some Christmas money, (thanks, JoAnn--my generous mother-in-law) and we were able to get a good deal on a flight. Dorma got us some cheap tickets to Disneyland with her military discount, and we were on our way!! <br />
We left on my birthday, and met up in California with Debbie, our friend from Moses Lake, Washington. We immediately made our way to Disneyland where too much fun awaited us. It really is a happy place to be, and we saw lots of young families and young couples. I use the term "young" because it appeared to me that we were the oldest people in the park. Obviously this was not the case, but it did seem that most people our age were accompanying their kids and grandkids. Frankly, they looked a little tired. We were re-energized, delighted to be together and in the "happiest place on earth". We walked and walked, took in the sights, rode every ride to be ridden (maybe not such a good idea) and loved every minute of our adventure. I will not soon be riding the Matterhorn again in this lifetime. Lori claimed that you can't go to Disneyland and not ride the Matterhorn. I knew it was a bad idea, but I gamely wedged myself in the seat, made sure my body was not going anywhere, and hung on for dear life. My body stayed put, but, alas, my head did not. I heard people screaming in delight, and in my mind, I was screaming too although I was being whipped around too hard for any sound to come from my mouth. Lori, who was in the car behind me, claimed my head bobbled exactly like those bobble-heads you used to see in the back of people's cars. My brain felt fuzzy for an hour afterward. A root canal with no anesthia would have been more fun.<br />
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It rained a bit, and we were fine with it because California needed it so badly. We were not going to let a little precipitation ruin our good time. It was a little nippy, so we all purchased four warm, red sweatshirts with large letters labeling us BEACH PATROL. This made it very easy to pick each other out in a crowd and also helped everyone in Disneyland to spot us from a distance. We were in such a congenial mood that we didn't mind when we got some odd questions from people. Generally, they wanted to know if we were in a club or something. One lady asked if we were were lifeguards! "Yup, we are senior citizens who like to hang out on beaches waiting to save people".... One old guy who brandished a nice cane would wave it high in the air when he saw us, shouting "Save me, Girls!!"<br />
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The rain politely waited until we were inside the attractions and then misted gently when we were out and walking. The next day the sun was out again, and we watched parades , shows and fireworks. It was a grand way to spend my birthday and one I shall not soon forget. We decided we were up for a little more entertainment and decided to make a visit to Universal Studios on Saturday. We were all quite proud that we held up so well in spite of all the walking (and my bad knees) and commended each other on a great vacation and a great time had by all!<br />
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We told ourselves we were in fine shape for our ages but decided our minds were going when we arrived at the Salt Lake Airport with no memory of where we had parked the car. It was soon apparent that none of us remembered much of anything after boarding the shuttle. We vaguely remember the shuttle driver telling us to take note, but we apparently paid her no mind. I tried to convince the others that our car was in a section with a rhyming alphabet and number such as B3, but it was not the case. I am not sure where that came from--Maybe the last few years of teaching letters, numbers and rhyming words? We casually disembarked the shuttle thinking that we could transverse the general area (which was huge) in the dark and cold and surely come across the car amidst hundreds of vehicles. After ten minutes of futile searching we sheepishly made our way to one of the stations and called the emergency number. Cody and his truck showed up , lights flashing where he tried to tell us that "this happens often". He threw our suitcases in the back of his vehicle and we climbed in to go looking for Lori's Ford Escort. We re-traced the route we took and found it without too many minutes passing. Cody was all smiles, and so patient as he led the way to the exit. We were snickering just a bit over the occurence and grateful that we were on our way home. Dorma tried to give the attendant a megaplex show ticket when asked for the parking ticket, and we became quite hysterical with laughter. She never did find it, and as we looked old and tired; the man behind the glass was filled with either compassion or exasperation. He told us the approximate fee for five days, and we soon were on the way home. A fitting end to a great time with friends. Life is so much better when you can find things to laugh about, and with this group of friends, there is always plenty of material!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 58th birthday--I think I have a picture of my great grandmother looking pensive like this.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Disneyland, here we come!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">me, Lori , Debbie, and Dorma</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rain Rain go away, we girls want to play!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Tower of Terror was more fun than I thought!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to come home? Not!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Universal Studios</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dorma making "the call"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cody, the kind rescuer of forgetful "older" women</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fireworks are always thrilling if you're young at heart</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-9466892083269597962014-02-02T20:24:00.000-08:002014-02-02T20:32:53.904-08:00His weight made me think of mine.....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last week I got a picture from Matthew sitting with his companion. He did not look like the same boy I sent on a mission almost a year ago. He looked different. About thirty pounds different! He has said in recent e-mails that he has been biking and becoming very "buff". I believe that if he stays "buff" , people will finally be able to see the difference between my identical twin boys! They have always looked a little different to the immediate family. When they were born, however, I actually did paint Mark's fingernails so that for the first month or so I would not make a mistake. Soon their personalities emerged and we were able to clearly see there were differences. For most of their almost twenty years, they have been the same height and weight.....the picture I saw refuted this. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elder Taylor and Elder Cuestas<br />
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I am certainly not bothered by the fact that Matthew has put on a little weight. I hear wonderful things about him from his mission president and wife, and I am much more concerned about his work ethic and his spiritual development. I just know it has made me think about the weight that I have put on a since the boys' births and wonder now if I have changed in other positive ways. <br />
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I remember being sooo pregnant with them the Christmas of 1993, about six weeks before their birth. I just wanted my pre-pregnant body back. I requested a bike for Christmas. I was going to ride up and down the streets of Washington Terrace with my new postpartum body and take back my former self. Little did I know that I would spend the next few years in survival mode and that included ingesting a whole lot of chocolate. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CHRISTMAS 1993</td></tr>
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The weight has come and gone, but mostly stayed, and now it is not just about looking a certain way. My 58th birthday is Wednesday, and my knees are pretty bad. I need to concentrate on eating healthy, and strive just a little harder (okay ..a lot harder) to get in some exercise, portion control and to develop self mastery over a whole lot of things.<br />
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This mission was to be not only an self improvement experience for my kids, but also for their mother. I wanted to better myself, and so far, have not done much in any one area. I find myself still struggling to just work, and get through each day with a positive attitude. I am thankful for my many blessings, and want to feel gratitude instead of weariness. By the way, that bike never did get used much, and sadly went the way of most of our other exercise equipment. <br />
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I am going to start small, and cut out sugar from my diet! Yikes!!! That does sound drastic, but I think it is necessary. I am sadly addicted to having a little something every day, and it doesn't help that I have a box of treats under my couch for the piano students. <br />
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The boys are turning 20 on February 6th, and I can scarcely believe it! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MATTHEW AND MARK --ONE YEAR</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MATTHEW AND MARK--19 YEARS</td></tr>
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOYS!!!!! WE LOVE YOU!!!! Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-27360623170578931822014-01-18T18:16:00.000-08:002014-01-18T18:26:39.506-08:00Warm and Cold<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark says that this snow was about all they got in December and it is all gone now.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark, Elder Guzman and the ward missionaries.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">preparing to bundle up</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She loves her California winter</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xnR69KfqN-o/Utsr72GClcI/AAAAAAAAAr4/lXRQlzSGMd8/s1600/1504442_239220656249180_2074220476_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xnR69KfqN-o/Utsr72GClcI/AAAAAAAAAr4/lXRQlzSGMd8/s1600/1504442_239220656249180_2074220476_o.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bethany's home in Canyon Country California</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yrVJZug7Jeo/UtsnxWpKHaI/AAAAAAAAArI/u1m_OuEOIO8/s1600/DSCN1633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yrVJZug7Jeo/UtsnxWpKHaI/AAAAAAAAArI/u1m_OuEOIO8/s1600/DSCN1633.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Which road would be "less traveled"?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jddaHpJ3zhk/Utsopsjja7I/AAAAAAAAArs/A0LZE7UDQMI/s1600/DSCN1652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jddaHpJ3zhk/Utsopsjja7I/AAAAAAAAArs/A0LZE7UDQMI/s1600/DSCN1652.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elders Taylor and Cuevas preparing to go riding. Matthew has been on a bike his entire mission.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-59_YXGGmQh4/UtsnleCX1lI/AAAAAAAAArA/TS0h-nfvOJA/s1600/IMG_0155%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-59_YXGGmQh4/UtsnleCX1lI/AAAAAAAAArA/TS0h-nfvOJA/s1600/IMG_0155%255B1%255D.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is "so" Rachel. She likes photos to prompt questions.....Not sure which question to ask!! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ulvEGQlu7NI/UtsuwDy0MfI/AAAAAAAAAso/UDCmKLxBhA4/s1600/1529934_239219982915914_1715687714_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ulvEGQlu7NI/UtsuwDy0MfI/AAAAAAAAAso/UDCmKLxBhA4/s1600/1529934_239219982915914_1715687714_o.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben, this is for you....her "selfies" drive him crazy</td></tr>
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Two missionaries are cold, one not so much, and one is living in paradise. Poor Matthew and Rachel have been been part of the artic freeze, and have had to stay in a couple of days because of the extreme cold.<br />
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They all have good attitudes about the weather (who wouldn't have a nice feeling about the weather in California?) However, Matthew and Rachel say that the cold gives them a little extra time to study the Gospel. They have not always been able to go out every day, and Matthew has played Risk a bit (is that an approved missionary activity?) Mark loves Vernon and the people he has met. He claims it is like his second home now. Matthew is plugging along with Elder Cuevas, who is from Guatemala. Most people do not want to hear their message, but he is gamely still trying to talk to people. Mark is determined to be happy in spite of the lack of work, and Bethany is finding out that missions are challenging. Rachel is ready for a change , I think, but writes pretty optimistic letters.<br />
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I am in awe of their determination and fortitude. I am cold, and impatient right now...and I am in my own home! Missions are hard, and I told them that before they left. Rachel wrote in one letter, "missions are all about getting out of your comfort zones, and I am just going to embrace this new adventure." She said that her mission president used to say, "There's no growth in the comfort zone and no comfort in the growth zone." She goes on to say, " It is part of our spiritual nature to continually progress and learn. That's our whole reason for being here on Earth. If we tell ourselves that we're comfortable with where we are and see no reason to change, we are denying ourselves the opportunity to become more like God. God has given us his power to learn and progress so that one day we can become more like Him. Everything we go through in life is to prepare us for our life to come. God gives us certain trials and obstacles to shape us into who he needs us to become. He has a divine purpose for us and he has given us tools to help us fulfull that purpose."<br />
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She then quotes 2 Corinthians 4 17-18, "For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory: while we looke not as the things which are not seen, but as the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal."<br />
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It is wonderful to hear of their growth. I must admit it spurs me to try to be a little better. I am presently in one of my of least favorite months of the year, and do not ask myself to do much of anything outside of work and piano lessons. I tell myself I will feel better as February comes on...<br />
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I just read "The Rent Collector" and I am filled with gratitude for all that I possess in the way of family, friends and spiritual blessings. I am not living in a dump in Cambodia, and my kids are healthy and happy, unlike the main character in this wonderful story. Cultivating an air of gratitude for everything I possess is my goal this year.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Come what may and love it"</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-51434815831623948872013-12-31T23:22:00.002-08:002014-01-01T16:21:06.480-08:00Celebrating the new year with a colonoscopy!A couple of weeks ago I decided to schedule myself for a couple of dreaded tests, a mammogram and a colonoscopy. I was long overdue for both of them but kept putting them off for a myriad of reasons. I hate medical procedures of all kinds, and I dislike taking the time for appointments. This is not a good reason for avoiding these procedures! Too many of my friends are cancer survivors, and my own father died of colon cancer at the young age of 56. My son Ben, who is only 29 years old, had a colonoscopy last year where they found polyps but his repeat colonoscopy showed none this year, thank goodness!!!<br />
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My father, Thiel Johnson, was just about the best person you could ever know. When he died, people came from all walks of life to pay their respects to a man who was kind, honest and giving. At his funeral, President Harris said, "Thiel Johnson was a man without guile" and he was....<br />
He often claimed, "he was a jack of all trades, master of none." He could build, wire, plumb and cement just about anything you wanted done. I always lament the fact that he probably could have helped me do just about anything around the house I needed fixed or built, but that is not why I miss him. He was so funny, so smart and so very loving. When I think of him, I remember his huge smile, and his talent for whistling just about any song. He would also dance a little jig in front of my friends to embarrass me. It looked a little like a strange type of clogging, but it was the Thiel Johnson quickstep.<br />
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At night I would lay in my bed and listen to him play his mouth organ as he called it (harmonica). I grew up loving the hymns because I heard them played by ear on that harmonica. He loved the 'old' country music, and I grew up listening to the verses of songs like "down in the west Texas town of Laredo" and "Don't you listen to him, Dan, he's a devil, not a man, and he's searched the burning sand for water". I have no idea who sang these songs, it has been much too long. Dad died September 10, 1979 from colon cancer, and I miss him still so much. The dead seem to grow more perfect with years, and although in my mind's eye now, I see him as such...he was as human as the rest of us. His language could be a little salty when he got mad, but he always quickly apologized and when illness took him to his bed, he became so humble and contrite. As he grew sicker, he would take to walking the floor above my bedroom at night, pacing back and forth with the pain, playing the hymns while I listened in bed... tears filling my eyes.<br />
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He was a very spiritual man, and the gospel of Jesus Christ was everything to him. I grew up watching him read his scriptures, and talk to us of the Plan of Salvation. He knew the Savior intimately because he was a true disciple of Christ. He helped just about everyone, and was the neighborhood handyman.<br />
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Mom met Dad at Utah University and their first date was getting ice cream. Dad had just gotten his cone, and turned around to speak to my mom, and a bird flying overhead deposited a little something right on his cone. They always got a good laugh over that!<br />
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Dad was very tidy, a quality that I did not inherit. I am my mother's daughter, always cooking , reading, preparing and trying vainly to organize without cleaning up the previous mess. The shed he built in our backyard was a beautiful thing to behold though it was tiny and humble. Every tool, gadget, or piece of equipment to build or fix something was stored in an orderly fashion. He kept lemon drops there in a drawer, and I would sneak in and sit on his stool, and hide out from the problems of my adolescent world. It was a little sanctuary to me where I could spend a few minutes away from the outside world. I was a recluse in Junior High, hated it in fact, and just wanted to be home with my books and my cats. <br />
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He went to the doctor because of some rectal bleeding, and had a colonoscopy. He had stage 4 cancer at that point, and he had some surgery to remove what they could at the time. He then had chemotherapy that seemed to go on for months. At the time of his death the tumors were shrinking, but we all thought that the chemotherapy had taken its toll. He lay in his bed in our guest bedroom , and his wife and his daughters were his hospice nurses. Liz would lay on the floor some nights by his bedside, and I would administer the morphine shots. He was so skinny that he wore his wrist watch around the top of his arm, and I would have to hunt for any fat deposits on his wasted body to inject him. I remember once tripping and spilling some soup on him, and feeling so bad. He took my hand and kissed it, saying, "you're my angel, Jane". We would hand him a plastic urinal, and he spilled it once. I , at the tender age of 21, undressed him, and changed his bedding while he sat and cried, shivering on the chair. "I hate you to see your Dad like this, Jane" he wept. "Oh, Dad" , I replied, "you changed me all the time when I was little, it's my turn now". Then I was the one who cried all the way to college classes.<br />
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Mom was teaching school, and we needed all the help we could get with Dad's care.<br />
When we were not there, the Craythornes next door came and sat with Dad. It was all quite horrible keeping the death watch, and not knowing when it would happen. Thank goodness we were all there when it did, and I knew the time was close when I saw Dad holding up his hand to someone unseen, yet very near and whispering, "help me". He searched the room just as my mother did when she died, and I know that the veil is very thin between this world and the spirit world. I entered the room to see how he was doing, and found him motionless on the bed with his eyes open, unseeing. I called to mom, and I remember her saying, "Oh ,Thiel, have you gone?" We gently closed his eyes and called the mortuary, and I watched my mom weep as she said goodbye for a season to her companion of thirty years. Just a few weeks earlier Dad had crawled from his bed adjacent to their bedroom to her bedside. She woke to find him crying as he cradled her in her arms. He said, "Fay, you have and always will be the most beautiful woman to me, thank you for being my wife and the mother of our children." What a tender moment that memory holds for me, and such an example of true devotion.<br />
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I had a beautiful dream sometime later where I saw my dad enter the kitchen where I sat, and talked with me face to face as in mortality. I had prayed that I might remember the robust, funny guy I knew as my father and not the shrunken, sick shell of a man he became. He looked so good! The dream was startingly vivid, and I remember seeing the scars on his forehead, and his finger. He was dressed in snowy white clothes, and he laughed and made references to all of us, and said how happy he was. He mentioned our neighbors, the Somervilles, and I did not want him to go when he said he must leave.<br />
I awoke from this dream so very grateful for the knowledge I have that I will see him again, and all others who have departed this earth. Elder Russell M. Nelson said that" death is a gift from God because death allows your body to return home to Him. From an eternal prospective, death is only premature for those who are not prepared to meet God."<br />
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I searched for pictures of Dad as I wanted to post them, and cannot put my finger on them (big surprise). I found this not so good one of when I graduated from high school about three years before he died, and where he looked like the man I remember.<br />
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And so, as I stayed up all last night, "making bathroom trips" in preparation for my colonoscopy....I thought about Dad and how he might have been with us a few more years if he had had the procedure done at age fifty. I fixed myself up two icy pitchers of crystal light and added a little Mountain Dew for good measure. Just saying I will probably not drink either one of those for a good long time! The prep is horrible, but the results don't last forever (although in my case it was a very long night) ... I think I may have overdone it with the powder!<br />
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All went well, and there were no polyps, so I am good for another three years! I hope my siblings are falling suit with their colonscopies as colon cancer is certainly preventable these days. I can at least say that I accomplished a couple of things this Christmas holiday. <br />
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I am hoping the new year brings much joy to you all along with the trials that are part of life. I am not even going to embarrass myself by claiming resolutions to lose weight and exercise this year....(I have to try a little) because for thirty five years my journal entries are all the same thing! "I need to lose weight, exercise, and get healthy, clean my house, get organized, yada, yada, yada...." For right now, I don't have cancer, and I am happy to spend another year being with the people I love, writing others whom I love, and just being "me". <br />
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That "me" was raised by two wonderful parents, who while certainly not perfect, tried their best to love their kids and teach them. I am so grateful to Thiel and Fay Johnson. Love you, Mom and Dad!!!!<br />
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-68951128754172663372013-12-29T18:24:00.000-08:002013-12-29T18:49:45.518-08:00Christmas Skyping<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex and Dakota laughing with Rachel</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carly and me talking with Sister Bethany Taylor</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matthew can't believe how big Ruby is getting!</td></tr>
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This Christmas season was crazy in so many ways! I thought it would be less hectic having four kids in the mission field, but getting those packages out, and letters written was a big project for me. I am a procrastinator by nature, but those missionary packages needed to be out by a certain date, and I , being the Mom, was the one to do it. Now I must admit that Bethany got "two" copies of the Carpenter's CD and Rachel is good for pens the rest of her mission. It reminds me of when I was little, and my mom would put the wrong thing or quantity in our Christmas stockings. It's all good!! <br />
We really had a nice Christmas and I enjoyed some peace and quiet until two days before Christmas.<br />
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My niece Heather and her husband, Bob, plus four daughters came for Christmas Eve. I warned Anne that she better "forget" herself and enjoy her grandkids and children, and she was actually pretty good. For those of you who do not know my sister....I am not being mean, just practical. Her son Jonathan, his significant other, Cassie, and their sweet baby, Zayla, came and ate soup and rolls with us.<br />
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Then it was time to cook up three breakfast casseroles, sticky buns, chop up fruit, and clean up the mess from the peanut brittle and fudge. As I cook like a maniac, I remember the words of one of my ESL students, Eduardo, who upon hearing that I cook a lot at Christmas...said, "no wonder you're fat, Mrs. Taylor!" Those words still pierce my heart as I furiously whip up way too much food. My mother showed love that way, and I am afraid that I am much the same way. Unfortunately, little Eduardo is probably wiser than his years!!<br />
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Christmas morning was wonderful because we had the anticipation of FOUR phone calls/skyping from our missionaries. Mark called about 11:00 a.m. Bethany skyped with us at noon, Rachel followed at 1:00 p.m. and Matthew skyped with us at three o'clock. It was so much fun to see their faces that I must admit to feeling a little gypped when it came to Mark. His mission does not skype, but we had a good conversation. <br />
They all looked so good, and sounded wonderful. It was so good to see their faces, and to hear that they are doing well, and enjoying their missions for the most part. I am so proud of their diligence in keeping the commandments and can certainly see their progress in so many areas. <br />
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The missionary moms of our ward were asked to speak in Sacrament meeting today. Alisa got out of it because she was in St. George, but Melodee, Vickie and I spoke about Mitchell , Paige and my four. Drake is in Russia, where Alisa just reported that a bomb went off in Volgograd, not too far from him. He is so positive and doing so well despite the problems there. The support for our missionaries from our ward has been phenomenal, and we are so blessed!! It is my fervent hope that they are all safe and happy in the next year and that that the desires of their hearts are fulfilled. Paige and Rachel will be home this next year, and the boys and Bethany will soon follow. Best wishes for a Happy New Year!!!<br />
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Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-56681111317848389272013-12-08T20:51:00.000-08:002013-12-08T20:51:37.509-08:00"tis the season to be jolly" even if you only have nine forksMy last post was sort of whiny, so I wanted to wait and write when I was not feeling cold and anxous. Hmmm...that will not happen until Spring, so I decided to write about my gratitude for my life, for things cold and dark, and for things sunny and warm. I am listening to Adam play the piano, and I think about the reason my kids are on missions. He stopped in to have some dinner after working late at the Hospital, and now he is playing the piano. It happened to be "O Holy Night", a song which has always been the epitomy of what Christmas is all about. I feel such reverence for the Savior when I hear this song, and it never fails to bring me to tears. Adam was always one of my kids who loved to play, and I am grateful he still enjoys it. I am so fortunate to have about 42 kids make their way into my house weekly to have piano lessons. It is hard at times when I am tired from a day at school, but I am so lucky to have had music in my home. It elevates my mood and makes me so happy. <br />
<br /> I got a call from Sister Vallinga, who is Matthew's mission mom. She related a story where they recently had a zone conference where Matthew was to play a solo on his violin for the musical number. A visiting general authority was there, and Matthew was pretty nervous. As he drew his bow to commence playing, an audible "PING' resounded in the room. His G string had broken, and he looked helplessly at the men sitting on the stand. His mission president arose, and said, "Elder Taylor, if you can continue to play, we would love to hear it, but if you cannot make it work, that is okay!" Matthew said a silent prayer and pulled his bow across the violin and begin to play very gently the hymn "Be still My Soul". He made it through the number and everyone exclaimed that it was beautiful. Matthew later wrote me that he had a "little" help and also that the number had very few notes played on the now-absent string. <div>
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I could not help but muse about the many times that I cannot accomplish something, but that lack thereof is often made up by the Savior. At this time of year, we think of Christ, we rejoice in His birth and in his ministry. He can make up the difference, and I am so thankful for the Atonement.</div>
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I am pretty much inept at a lot of things and it causes feelings of inadequacy and self pity. I have always been able to put together a meal, however, but tonight it went south. We were having the missionaries, and I was having chicken parmesian, (thanks Megan Eborn) . It usually is quite delicious, and I was going to put together some garlic bread with cheese (usually yummy, a nice green salad, jello salad, peas and carrots with chocolate chip cookies for desert. Ben and Jess, Layne and Emily, Alex and Daniel and Elders Chalk and Holman were coming. At the last minute, I forgot the bread in the oven---burned the edges---couldn't find the rest of the spaghetti---killed the peas and carrots---and put the croutons in the salad too early (mushy). Ben ran around trying to clean up after me as I sawed burnt edges from the garlic bread, dripped some sauce on the chicken and tried to find the missing spaghetti noodles. Ben is a neat freak, and it pains him greatly to see spaghetti sauce everywhere, and pans and pots piled as I tried to rescue dinner. I start feeling anxous, and then the missionaries arrive. I throw up my hands, and tell everyone to sit, whispering to Jerry, "don't eat any spaghetti". We sat down to dinner, and I felt like we were ready to partake of the "five loaves and fishes" because of the small quantity of spaghetti. I did find the noodles after searching one more drawer, and Ben had them on to cook. Now, for the most embarrassing part of the dinner. Unbeknownst to me, a knife thief has entered our home and we have none save nine forks!!!! Seriously folks, who only has nine forks? Jerry was the one assigned to set the table, and I guess he thought we could make do with a spoon and a knife. When I saw Daniel trying to eat balance spaghetti on his knife, I washed mine and gave it to him. How pathetic is that? </div>
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Then, as we sat and talked with our missionaries and listened to their message, it occured to me that we were in a very warm place with people that we loved and that we had food to eat. So many people</div>
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cannot say that, and I feel blessed that I am comfortable when it is cold outside. I have friends, family and a testimony of Jesus Christ. I don't think the fact that I don't have enough forks can alter that fact. Things often disappear from our house, and I don't have an answer for it. I have no talent for organization, but I can keep trying. In the meantime I will try to remember what I have to be grateful for and not berate myself for the things I am not....and they are many!! </div>
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I will listen to my kids play Christmas songs, rejoice in the season and continue to find the things in life that make me happy. I know that there are people who are suffering right now, and I will try to remember that while they have trials, I have minor annoyances. I hope to focus more on what is right with my life, and to let the little things go. I am so grateful for a loving Savior who knows us , and that someday all will be made right. I believe it was President Gordon B. Hinckley who said, "have patience for the small trials in your life, and courage for the big ones, and when you go to bed at night, remember that God is in charge."</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adam Michael Taylor</td></tr>
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Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-12513666756777878372013-11-16T20:23:00.001-08:002013-11-16T20:42:53.608-08:00Winter Wonderland? I don't think so....Well, it's that time of year. No, I am not thinking of the holidays, but rather the dark, cold days that lay ahead. There are those times that I find beauty in the new fallen snow, or watch in awe as the street lights illuminate the falling snowflakes. I love the way the trees look that first morning after a snowfall as their bare, heavily laden branches sparkle when the sun comes up. Mostly, however, I just try to tough it out until Spring comes. The night falls, and I find myself wanting to just crawl in bed. I miss the sounds of kids playing outside in the summer evening, and the sprinklers wetting down the freshly mown grass. I like seeing little sprouted things coming up through the earth, and soo do not like the demise of the many beautiful flowers I nurtured all summer. Clearly, I am not a winter person. I hate being cold. Don't even get me started on the driving conditions. I come home white-knuckled after driving in a winter storm. Are there fun sports in winter? I feel too old to personally like doing any of that now, although I love watching the Olympics. People laughed at me when I tried ice skating. Can I help it that my family has genetically weak ankles? I really tried to like skiing, but was no good at it at all. I have no athletic abilities, but thought I could have a go at it. I quit altogether when I fell off the ski lift and tore up my knee badly (the same knee I am having surgery on this Thursday, by the way. For the last thirty years the pain has reminded me that snow is , indeed, my enemy. <br />
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I feel guilty for my bad attitude. I know we need the snow. I realize that it will bring us much needed water and that we need plenty of it to enjoy the many pleasures of summer. Still, I endure much of it and scoff at my friends who insist they enjoy the winter. Robin loves to cuddle up in her spotless house and cross stitch away all comfy and cozy. I don't have a spotless house, and I don't cross stitch. The darkness closes in and I don't even feel like cleaning. I eat more because I feel anxious, and that is never good. I believe I suffer from SAD, (seasonal affective disorder). I feel my best in the light of day, and tend to want to hibernate when it is dark and cold. I do feel a little sad, and sometimes very sad! I am very excited for December 21 not because it is right before Christmas, but because the days will start getting longer. Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas. I love the lights, the music, the feelings of goodwill toward men, but Christmas comes during winter. I am ashamed that even in the celebration of our Savior's birth, I whine about the darkness and cold.<br />
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This winter I have vowed to try to be more positive. I have four kids serving LDS missions in the states. Matthew and Rachel are in Ohio and Michigan and will, no doubt, be cold the next few months. Mark does not think he will be in temperatures any colder than 50 degrees, and Bethany, well...she is in paradise. The San Fernando Valley does not experience much in the way of winter.<br />
I really do not want to equate happiness with summer even though I rejoice when spring starts to creep between the cold cracks of winter. I know that I appreciate spring more because of the winter. It is more miraculous, more beautiful and enjoyable because of the harshness of winter.<br />
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I like the scripture in the Book of Mormon where Lehi says "it must needs be that there was an opposition" talking about all things that are created. We cannot fully appreciate the good without the bad. Not that winter is all bad, but spring is so sweet because it follows winter. When you live in Utah, you have the beauty of all the seasons, and each one is truly miraculous. I happen to like some more than others, but I know my enjoyment would wane just a bit if I had spring all year long.<br />
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So...bring on the snow, the cold, the ice and scary driving conditions. I will be grateful for a warm house that shields me from the cold, and a bed to lie down at night. I know that many people in the world do not have this luxury. When I see the devastation in the Phillippines and the people who have suffered at the hands of a typhoon, I am humbled and more than disgusted with myself. I have food , clothing and my family and friends are safe. The coming of a different season seems a very trivial thing to be concerned about. I am so grateful for a Heavenly Father who loves his children and mourns with them.<br />
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I believe that much good can be found in every day, and that a little quiet contemplation about how to help other people will alleviate a lot of the seasonal depression I experience. I am hoping that we might all realize our blessings and rejoice in the arrival of another new year.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The morning Bethany leaves Utah for a year and a half to dwell in Sunny California.</td></tr>
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<br />Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8609168228638833231.post-22292043877074753682013-11-06T20:57:00.001-08:002013-11-06T21:02:59.221-08:00Missionaries are a busy blessingWriting and sending packages to four missionaries can be difficult for anyone let alone someone as unorganized as myself. Okay, I will admit it......letters and pictures from my four kids are stuffed in various drawers. They are not in beautifully scrapbooked pages with clever headings and quotes. I am hoping to unearth some of them this summer with Dorma's help. She is very talented when it comes to organizing, and maybe I can get some semblance of a recording of their time in the mission field.<br />
I write regularly to them, and should have files of different subjects that can be addressed should a topic arise....but I have to rely on my brain which is quickly fading. I have had to send letters that should be filed under:<br />
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How to feel good about yourself when you seem to be a failure.<br />
How to get along with people who bug you.<br />
How to fight frustration when no one wants to hear your message.<br />
How the Atonement can help you with feelings of inadequacy.<br />
How to be humble when you know more than your companion.<br />
How to be teachable when you realize you know nothing.<br />
How to accept the fact that your mother always knew more than you thought she did.<br />
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Lately, I wish I had more time to learn the things that my kids are learning. I want to take the time to ponder the scriptures, to think about the things they are thinking, and to be teachable as well.<br />
I have cut way back on the TV watching, and try to find time to study the Gospel every day. I have scriptures on CD in my car, and that helps a great deal in bringing the Spirit. Still, I have to go to school and teach piano every day and find myself too tired many nights. I tell them all the time how lucky they are to have the time to immerse themselves in the Gospel.<br />
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Rachel is still with Sister Heywood, Matthew is awaiting a new companion , Mark is with Elder Guzman, who is from Mexico, and Bethany is with Sister Cameron. Bethany is in Sunny Burbank where she talks about "sun-kissed people" and swaying palm trees and the cute red door of her apartment. She sounds like she is on vacation. She is two blocks away from Disney Studios, Warner Brothers, and NBC. <br />
Rachel and Matthew are preparing for a cold, wet winter where they say the bitter wind from the lakes cuts to the bone. Mark is in Texas where they will probably have a fairly mild time of it.<br />
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I will now attempt to add some photos. This may or may not work. Yay!!!, It did! Maybe<br />
I can organize their letters!!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel and Sister Heywood</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bethany and Sister Cameron</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matthew with Thomas and Rachel (a recent convert)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matthew and some of his district members</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matthew riding his bike in Cleveland</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark with a cow?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark and his companion, Elder Guzman</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel and Sister Heywood looking cute</td></tr>
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Hey!!! It did work!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel and her hand-me-downs<br />
hat, scarf, and coat from ward member<br />
skirt from companion.<br />
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Jane Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10664939169547963900noreply@blogger.com4