In A Tizzy. . .Not Pretty

I was driving north along McClintock last Sunday when I came to the odd cross walk just south of the canal - almost to Guadalupe.  The pedestrian lights above it were flashing red as I pulled up next to the intersection.  I usually slow way down at that stretch of the road anyway, because that crossing is so different than any other I am used to.  I always carefully look both ways in case of someone I don't see.  (So, if  you are following me there, caution; my brake lights will always be ahead of you.)

Stopping, I had a front row seat to watch a little family cross, complete with a baby stroller and a dog.  They made it safely across, all the while the red light above them flashed away.  Waiting for the light to change, and not sure of what to expect next, I was surprised when the driver 2 lanes down from me continued on through the red flashing lights.  (I was still waiting for pedestrians; they could have been my own children.)  I was also confused.  How could he be so careless and disregard the red lights?  It seemed nervy!  As I sat there dumbfounded, I noticed a second sign below the lights that read, "Proceed when clear".  Now I understood why the driver didn't hesitate. . .  But I have a hard time with the sign

When did going through a red light become legal?  If the city wants to prevent accidents, I think all red lights should be honored.  No exceptions.  (Maybe you should never be caught driving behind me there, because now I will probably always stop no matter what the color.  And I certainly won't be risking my life there as a pedestrian!)   Is green going to mean something different now, too?  Sorry for my tizzy.  On a red light, I vote for no exceptions.  Maybe we could stand to wait and take a breather until the detection is clear of pedestrians; then proceed on a green light. . . or a purple one.   "Proceed when clear" on a red light is an accident waiting to happen.   It tempts drivers to look for shortcuts or loopholes.  Driving shouldn't be about shortcuts or exceptions.  If the light is red, you stop.  If it's green you can go.  It's that easy.

2013

Yesterday was the eve of New Year's eve.  The bishop talked to our combined group and because it hit the spot - what with New Year's resolutions on my mind, I am writing down the basic message.

 Since he was speaking to 2 singles wards, he related that there are not many scriptures that talk about Jesus' life when He was their age.

 But we turned to Luke 2 :52. 
 And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.

For such a small scripture, it took on new meaning.  Wisdom (Intelligence)
                                                                           Stature (Physically)
                                                                            Favor with God (Spiritually)
                                                                            Favor with Man (Socially)

Then he held up a sketch of an equal sided square, with one of these characteristics  along each side.
He encouraged us to remember the equality. (You don't want a trapezoid or a triangle!)  Each side makes for "well rounded".  In between each category, he had assigned kids to come up and explain what they had done, or what they were anticipating doing for the new year.  It was a meaningful talk for them (and me!) especially the "social"  part.  (It's hard being college age.)

He reinforced that if we strive to better our lives in each of these categories, no matter what, our happiness will increase.  

The Day That the Lights Went Out in Chandler

The email I was writing in mid sentence poofed away at noon yesterday.
The lights didn't even flicker - just a "click" and out.  Dark.
The Christmas music that brought life from upstairs died..
Silence and dark; not a good combination.

So, this is what I learned when I helplessly stepped outside the front door in wonder:

That I was so thankful for fresh air. . . and the brightness of the sun.
I learned about myself when I realized thet my first instinct was to rap on my neighbor's door.  (I never rap on her door unless I need something; but today I needed a friend.)
I learned her name was Phyllis (not Doris . . . . ooops!)
That she was born on Christmas day in 1956.
That her handicapped son is 6'4".
That other neighbors needed a friend too, as they peeked around their corners one by one  to make polite conversation about "no power".
The neighbor next to Phyllis is Korean. She stood out with us for a minute, even though she spoke in broken English.
That my eastern Indian neighbor on the west goes to LA Fitness.  (She declied my invitation to go walking.)
That more people on the street were actually home.  I really thought I was the only one home in the neighborhood during the day.
A new neighbor, Adam, lives across the street with his 2 cute little girls (that are with him every other week end). They were the unfamiliar girls that walked Hairy the day before.  (Now I know who they belong to, and he knows who owns the hairy dog they brought home to show him.)
That the outage was a good excuse for some much needed neighborhood connecting.

 I learned that I feel safer now.


   

Disneyland 2012

This is proof that our recent trip to Disneyland is the happiest place on earth.  We watched the weather before we left for days, in hopes of sun.    When we expressed our wimpy concern for the rainy weather predicted, it was surprising how many people would rather go in the rain .   Less crowds.  So . . . we donned our ponchos, our weathered shoes, extra socks, umbrellas enough to go around,  and ran (splashed) like  crazy kids.   Splash Mountain will never be the same!

(everyone looked the same from the back!)

Some people have a drinking problem.  I have always had a "blinking" problem.

It was nice to know I was in good company:

Did you know that cartoons have a blinking problem?

We did have an awesome time!  The weather was beautiful, just wet.   We'd do it again tomorrow!

ABC Christmas Advent

1. A --Angels (Luke 2:1-9)
2. B --Bethlehem (Luke 2:10-15)
3. C --Christ (2 Nephi 25:23, 26)
4. D --Deeds (1 John 3:18, 23-34)
5. E --Everlasting (John 3:16-17)
6. F --Family (Luke 2:16-17)
7. G-- Gold (Matthew 2:1-11)
8. H --Herod (Matthew 2:12-16)
9. I --Israel (Matthew 2:19-21)
10. J --Joseph (Matthew 1:19-24)
11. K --King (D&C 128:23)
12. L --Lord (D&C 19:1; Isaiah 26:4)
13. M --Mary (Luke 1:27-38; 46-48)
14. N --Nazareth (Matthew 2:22-23)
15. O --Obedient (John 8:29; Hebrews 5:8-9)
16. P --Peace (Luke 2:14; Isaiah 9:6)
17. Q --Quickly (D&C 49-28)
18. R --Redeemer (Job 19:25; Mormon 9:11-13)
19. S --Steadfastness (2 Nephi 26:8; 31:20)
20. T --Teach (Matthew 28:18-20)
21. U --Unshaken faith (2 Nephi 31:19)
22. V --Voice (Alma 5:38; Helaman 12:23)
23. W --Willing (Mosiah 26: 17-18)
24. Y --Young (D&C 43:20)
25. Z --Zion (1 Nephi 13:37)

an article

I didn't write this, but I sure loved reading it:

Beauty in Broken Things

Posted by Kellie | November 28, 2012 | 8 Comments

To look at her fingers, you have to wonder what has happened to her – a car accident? Genetic fault lines? Torture? All the joints are loud, rude pebbles jostling and pushing the surface of too fragile speckled skin. Age has sucked the strength and padding from between her bones and cartilage, so when I hold her hand in mine I’m careful not to jostle or squeeze too much, even tenderly. All her fingers twist and angle severely towards her thumbs, which in turn furl towards her palm, even when she’s sleeping. If she was to stretch out her fingers, they would still cup inwards, as if she’s protecting something tiny in her palm. Her hands look as if they’ve been broken twice, at least, and put back roughly in a box, mending where they have fallen.
But if you place a crochet hook or knitting needle in her hands, the twists and jags of her fingers snap into focus, like a magic eye picture your eyes have suddenly worked out how to look at. You look, and the weird groove at the back of her hand is a welcome, custom nook for the crochet hook, worn by over seventy years of making tiny welcoming jackets, booties and bonnets for weary and contented and furious newborns. The sweep of her joints inwards is a living diagram of how she held the wool and blankets knitted and constantly given away during her life.

{···}···{···}···{···}···{···}···{···}···{···}···{···}···}

There is beauty in broken things. Be they family heirlooms, families or hearts; bodies, spirits or dreams – broken doesn’t mean worthless or ugly. Sometimes the spiky and curled pieces tumble, shifting slowly under the constant wash of sun to moonshine until one day our eyes learn to look differently and we can see the stained glass window all those pieces created. A friend posted recently:

Today I am thankful for geology, and this morning specifically, for Opals. Opals are only beautiful because they are hopelessly fractured, and thus continually refracting light. The result is the beautiful rainbow we see, the flashes of colorful blues, red, greens and yellow oranges. Opal without the fractures… is boring old “potch” opal, rose or white colored, no flash. So any time you begin to think of yourself as broken, remember, it is only through the fractures that the light becomes iridescent….make sure you are reflecting the right Light, and you’ll be better than fine.

The pain of the breakage depends on so many variables: history, emotion, cost, price, value, memory, effort, wants and hopes. Sometimes the pieces stay broke, despite our best efforts to find beauty, or meaning, or purpose, or the ultimate glue to stick it all back together. Sometimes there are double rainbows and perfect puddles after rain; sometimes the cloud’s silver lining is nuclear fallout beginning to drift down. Just like the puddles, and opals, and our deepest truest selves – we are all hopelessly fractured, broken, and iridescent.

{···}···{···}···{···}···{···}···{···}···{···}···{···}···}

Her hands have been broken by the service she has willingly given. Having given her life to Christ as a Catholic nun she has never had a child of her own, but every single soul born into our family makes its way to her lap, where those swollen, deflating hands lovingly cup soft, precious heads, a twisted finger traces the sign of the cross against the baby’s brow, and a prayer drifts down and is soothed into new, pearly skin by her wrecked and beautiful hands.

HaPpY BiRthDay, Gregg!

Whenever I walk or drive along Park Avenue from Seville to McClintock, I smile.   The side walk all the way is mostly straight, except for every 80 feet when it curves to the right, then 80 more straight feet and it curves left, and 80 more straight feet and . . . . I have fond memories along that route.

When Gregg was 4, the house was empty until the older kids got home from school.   Often we  would walk to the Windmills park for fun.  The little blue bike with the 10" wheels was perfect for him.  The ground was close, in case of a spill.  He'd ride perfectly all the way from our house to the first curve along Windmills. . .  That's when he either crashed or stopped to walk the curve.  Everytime.  Once past the curve, he was good for 80 feet, and then he would fall or walk the curve.   He rode great along the straight parts, but those curves were mean!  It was hard to watch him struggle at the curves because he loved going straight so much!   But he'd always get right back on.  I would coach him to look ahead for the curve so he'd be ready.  He never gave up and I remember many rides to the park, which means he finally got it.

Today is Gregg's birthday.  He's much older now and has accomplished many good things, in fact he'll graduate in December with a degree in graphic design.    It looks like the straight line practice was worth it! 

HapPy biRtHdAy, Gregg!
I love you, dearly!
Mom