Bad Luck Banjo

OK boys and girls, it's time for a story.

Once upon a time, for real, I played fiddle for the BYU Folk Ensemble during the early 1993's.

On one of our tours we were in South America and we were all trying empenadas.  It's like a pastry with meat filling and other mystery ingredients.

Some of us in the band were standing around eating our empanadas, when someone told a funny story which made our guitarist laugh and cough so hard a large chunk of empanada flew out of his mouth about 10 feet away and it LANDED, stuck on our banjo player's hand.

OH. MY.  GROSS.  And hilarious. And, wait.... what's he.... no, he's not going to...

Yes, the banjo player saw it on his hand, and ATE IT.  Clearly he thought it had fallen out of his own mouth and thought he'd discreetly dispose of the evidence.

 It was like a bad on bad deal.  Just sayin'.

Lesson learned:  don't eat food that falls either out of your mouth because it might have fallen out of someone else's  mouth.

The End.

p.s. Jackson won a gift certificate to an Empenada factory for an art contest.  I'm so excited.

Sandcastles and Pyramids

I'm just not in the mood to chronicle everything from this summer. Blah.

I was awakened this morning in my bed by a stray cat that jumped on my face.  So aside from the scratch on my cheek I found myself with a quiet house and some computer time. A gift.

I have too many projects going on and I love it... except I need a maid.  So I force myself to mom up and get work done instead of playing  (i.e. photography, painting, writing, reading, perusing through music, etc.)  But cleaning is SO monotonous.  This is my battle, to balance necessary with unnecessary... which changes fluidly... daily.

Someone said recently that cleaning a house is like building a beautiful sand castle only to have it knocked down every day. I'm OK with that, I realize it's just how it is... I just thought it perfectly explains why it feels like one is spinning their wheels and going crazy.

We have a lot of activities going on, more than I am willing to admit to.  General Conference is coming up and we will be counseled to simplify and I'll sit there and wonder how. My good better and best sign hangs in my bathroom as a constant reminder that not EVERYTHING I think of to do should be considered a "best".  So I sort out what's important and usually find the more fun it is, the less necessary it is, too.  It's like the food guidelines pyramid of life.

Top of the pyramid: FATS AND SUGARS=PLAY.  Use sparingly. Sparingly??
Then there's the gargantuan BREAD, CEREAL, RICE and PASTA group: 6-11 servings per day.  I interpret that as the LAUNDRY, ENTRYWAY, MEAL PREP, and TAXI group.  Definitely 6-11 servings per day.  Or more.

I'm about ready to hang that pyramid.  Upside down.  

I think I keep reaching back to summer, trying to keep it alive. I'm still determined to fit in one more magical summer evening, complete with low lighting, food and laughing while ironically my garage is it's own continent needing conquering. I need more time.

"How did it get so late so soon? It's night before it's afternoon. December is here before it's June. My goodness how the time has flewn.  How did it get so late so soon?" -Dr. Suess

signing out,
E

My little man who has no concept of time. Only of the moment.

 How great is childhood?

P.S. My other personal favorite, just for you cheeseballs like me: "Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana." -Groucho Marx

Press HERE to buzzer that bad joke.

Summer O' Benson

You wouldn't know it but we did a few other things this summer besides go to Nauvoo on a family bus.

Today: Benson's Summer

Benson graduated, class o' 2012.

The announcement

Graduation was more emotional than I was prepared for.

Look how smart they look: The Graduates

Benson lit floating paper lanterns for his friend's birthday.  In the height of fire season, he reasoned he could do it over the Salt Flats safely without starting a fire.  Which was all great until the cops came since they parked 6 cars on the side of the freeway to go out on the Flats.  Good thing they were already done.

Cousin Kaleb ready for to light her up.

I wasn't there, but I imagine these girls are checking the saltiness of the Flats.

Dusk.  Teens.  Fire.  FUN.

They actually worked really cool.

I think he was going for the "Tangled" magical experience except it's awkward to sit in a canoe on the Flats so he skipped that part.

Benson finished his eagle project. On the very last day possible, his 18th birthday. Last signature at 9:30 pm. but who's counting?  IT'S DONE

It's a covered kiosk for a map of local trails at a trail head.

Family pic day

He also switched jobs from being a movie theater popcorn ticket man to working at a diner making awesome desserts.

WARNING: Late night serious waxing- curve ahead

I'm loving that he's becoming more independent but it's such a strange transition for us as parents. He leaves in January to go to school and I'm starting to see his need to get moving on with life and why it's so natural at this point in life for that to happen. All my worries are just what every mother since the dawn of Eve (hey that sounds cool I just realized) has had to go through. He's a good boy. But no one said parenting was easy. I guess that's a realization you figure out along the way.

I love that kid.  He's a thinker, he loves to tease, and is always game for the next high adventure in life. This was his last summer home as a kid.

Best of luck to ya Benson, and don't blame me too much in therapy. I was just a kid having a kid myself and maybe I've learned a few things from you about me.

Like how I'm not so great at standing back and just letting things be. I wanted to be hands on when sometimes it's time to be hands off. It's just that when life feels like it's taking forever you don't realize it's actually so short and there was more you wanted to teach.  I keep reminding myself that I didn't know everything when I left home, either, and that's what the rest of life is for.

My sister just took her first one off to school and I witnessed first hand the goodbyes between siblings, the packing of everything necessary plus don't forget your toothbrush yada, and the empty car after the drop off.  I mean, her son actually got out of the car and took all his things and said goodbye and they drove off, just like in the movies.  We're talking real life, people.  I'm doing this in 3.5 months.

I think Chewbacca said it best: "MAAAAUURH"!

Nauvoo Report

Our family reported a week ago on our experiences in Nauvoo for our church meeting.  It was seriously so great to hear from every member of the family, and to hear which experiences seemed to stick with them. We also sang as a family "The Spirit of God", just one verse a cappella.  I knew it would be special to sing together, but I was unprepared for the emotional feelings that took over and made me sing all warbly. Everyone was touched by Jessica's tears that flowed freely while she sang and if I had seen that I would have been done in.

The kids were worried that the meeting might come off as braggy. I hadn't thought of that and realized it was good to check ourselves since it's not absolutely necessary to go to Nauvoo to have these experiences. We had an unbelievable experience, but Sacrament Meeting isn't the place to sell people on going to Nauvoo, but to testify of Christ. At least that helped me narrow down and focus for my talk.

I used an outline for my talk and filled in the rest for my journal.  I wish you could have heard all the talks, though. I am so proud of the people my children are becoming and the testimonies that they've developed independent of Michael and I.

Nauvoo Report for Sacrament Meeting
Great Miracles follow Great Sacrifice
Emily Rice

It’s like EFY for families... that’s what keeps running through my head.

We were spiritually fed, we grew in our testimonies, and it was a trip we’ll remember all our lives.  

Why did we want to go to Nauvoo in the first place? I really wanted to do something together as a family that was our last hoo ha before Benson leaves and everything starts changing.  But I started thinking, we could have gone anywhere, right?  Why trek 3300+ miles to go work really hard in humid temperatures?

It might be the McCann’s fault.  After hearing their experiences in Nauvoo, my heart flipped because I just knew it was something for the family bucket list. We applied last October/November and as soon as we were notified that we had been accepted I felt there was a reason for us to be there and that the way would open for us to make it happen.

Some people at the pageant said they felt Satan making it difficult for them to get to Nauvoo.  It wasn't that way for us.  It was like the way just kept opening up as we faced every obstacle.  Like when you roll 6's over and over in a game of Sorry and you are speeding toward winning! I even started to wonder if Satan DID want us to go to Nauvoo thinking that he could create misery between fighting and boredom, but if that were so, it backfired.

I had always wanted to do a church history tour with our kids, especially once they were old enough to remember doing it.  It’s risky taking teens to history sites, I know!  Our first stop was the Winter Quarters visitor center and temple then the newly dedicated Kansas City Temple where we got to do baptisms for the dead.  In Independence there is a beautiful visitor’s center where we learned so much about the saints’ struggles and eventual departure for Nauvoo. Along the way we also visited the Liberty Jail, where Joseph Smith’s life began to feel very real to me.

Once we arrived in Nauvoo, we checked into our lodging which was a church camp run by the Community of Christ.  Our family had our own air conditioned bunk house much like the cabins at the ward campout only twice as big.  I had planned our trip so we would arrive on Saturday night in time to go see the pageant and what it was like before we registered on Monday.

As we entered the pageant grounds we were immediately welcomed.  I looked back and there was a man walking with his arm around my older boys suggesting they have an official program for the pageant instead of the anti-mormon literature that had just been given to them. The material they had been handed looked identical to the pageant material as an 1840 style newspaper.  Every night there were was a group trying to protest in all different ways-- sometimes they would try to blend in and pass out material, like they had to my boys, and sometimes they would protest loudly with signs and other distracting clothing.  I was so grateful that once you were inside the pageant grounds there was only a feeling of joy and welcoming and that someone had specifically watched out for my boys so they would not be deceived by the literature handed to them.

An interesting thought I heard in one of our devotionals a few days later:  Do you think we suddenly were going to be a “chosen people” because we were at the pageant?  When our time in Nauvoo was over were we going to be blessed less -back to normal? No, it’s just that when you are looking for opportunities and miracles they just seem to be more obvious. I really believe that now. I’m sure the Lord is always showing his hand in our lives if we will simply look for it and expect it.

On the first night we were putting on the country fair, Jessica and I were fiddling and having a great time.  I had the distinct physical feeling of someone putting their hands on my waist while I was playing.  I turned around thinking maybe it was Michael but there was nothing.  My first thought was I had imagined it.  But a couple of days later Jessica turned to me and said, “Mom, I just had the feeling that someone had placed their hands on my waist while I was playing!” I told her I had had the same feeling a few days before.  It was an emotional moment for both of us.  It was a physical touch of tenderness and love from someone on the other side of the veil, I’m sure.

 



I loved fiddling with Jessica and watching my boys courageously asking people to join them on the pioneer dance floor dong waltzes and polkas and round dancing.  Even Alex stole the show with his do-si-do-ing.  It was like a big party every night.  You could easily feel like you had stepped back in time to Old Nauvoo.

 


Another small miracle happened later in the week.  Our cast had a little talent show, and since our family hadn’t prepared anything, I decided just to fiddle and then play something slower.  On the way to the program that morning I was trying to remember a particular slow tune that I love to play and had played for 20 years regularly... but I could not remember the tune for the life of me so I decided instead to play a medley that I had played for Easter this year in our ward.  At the conclusion of the program, a woman came up to me and expressed appreciation for my number and asked if it was a published medley. I said yes, that it was from a particular arranger.  She said she recognized because it was played a year ago that very day at her infant son’s funeral, and she felt like it was a message of comfort that day for her. I couldn’t believe of all the music, and especially since I couldn’t remember my favorite piece so randomly... I was unquestionably an instrument in the Lord’s hands on that particular day for someone.

Several other times I felt the spirit bearing witness to me-
    Aubrey and I always went on stage holding hands, and I felt so connected.
    As we sang The Spirit of God as a family and cast every night.
    After the pageant, when I’d see my boys talking to individuals and families, bearing testimony... I caught a glimpse of them as future missionaries. What a tender mercy.
    Carthage Jail was particularly powerful for all of us.  The spirit testified strongly that Joseph Smith was a real prophet and you could feel the great loss of his martyrdom.  We held a special family meeting at the visitor center where we shared with each other what experiences of the week had impacted us the most and I was humbled by the things my children shared. 

 

One other thought that impacted me.  The pageant directors often expressed appreciation for the sacrifices we had all made to be there.  But they emphasized that “no sacrifice would be worth anything less than bringing souls to Christ”, and I would add: “if even only our own.”

Yes, getting referrals for the missionaries was important work and was a big focus.  But I especially appreciated our district leader’s encouragement to just bear testimony to every person we spoke with. It was hard at first but I realized it was easier than I thought when I spoke from my heart with no intention of convincing.

We met many new great friends, some actually from right here in Bountiful!  

Our crazy bus idea, truly an untested theory, was another miracle. I still can’t believe we made it there and back with no problems, but that bus was prayed over A LOT. The bus is it’s own miracle on many levels.

 

I am so grateful we were able to experience this together and I hope that the impact on all of us is never forgotten.  It kind of feels like a dream now.  Part of the mission of the pageant was to come home and further testify.  Our testimonies were strengthened and we grew closer as a family and to our Heavenly Father.

 

I know my Savior lives and that Joseph Smith was truly a prophet.  I’m proud of the testimonies of my ancestors who were willing to follow him through all kinds of hardship so that I can have the gospel in my life now.  Each of them, each of us, has to constantly nourish our testimonies because no sacrifice would be worth anything less.

I love my Savior and felt the Spirit constantly testifying, as often as I was willing to listen and hope to keep that channel open always. I never want to lose the feeling of companionship of the Spirit and the access it gives me to my Heavenly Father. I testify that I have felt His love work miracles in my life, many many times because He knows we are weak and forget and need strengthening... if we'll only turn to Him.  It's that simple.




 

Gotcha

Have you heard of the game "Assassin"? It's all the rage at the high schools around here.  Our ward decided to play it but since it has such an outer-darkness-sin-name someone changed the name to "Gotcha".  Much more celestial.  Well, I was going to suggest calling it "Halo" but that's been taken.

From the ward, 48 adults and teens over age 12 started out.  Each person was given a name of someone they had to hunt down with water (squirt gun being the main weapon) in order to eliminate them from the game.  Once you get your target out, you take on the name of the person they were hunting, until there are only two people left standing alive for a final face-off.

Well, no one dies or anything. When we were young my sisters and I always liked to say "It's just ketchup" when we watched a movie with blood to make ourselves feel better. It's kind of like that. The only real thing that gets hurt is pride.

Rules:  You can't shoot your target in their house, car, work or at church.  All targets are safe on Sundays.  You can't shoot them FROM a car, either.
 
Michael somehow ended up the gamemaster, so he doesn't have a target, but the four oldest and I have been playing.  It's been almost 3 weeks and the game is still in full swing with maybe half the people left in the game.  Only one member of our family is out so far -Jessica-... which means if the game goes on much longer we are bound to have some internal family warfare which isn't going to be pretty.

How am I doing, you ask?
Not to brag, but... I've gotten out 3 targets so far, working on my fourth. Surprised? Don't be. I love me a game with strategy. I've had 3 different people coming after me. One by one they've been taken out so a new person keeps getting my name.  Which is a little freaky until you know who it is.

The first person who had me actually stalked my house for 3 nights openly with lawn chairs and sleeping bags.  One night we were out having family night and I came home to her whole family surrounding my vehicle.  Call me Houdini cuz I was able to escape to my house before they even knew I was missing. Booyah.

One of my targets I was able to take out by using Alex... posing like we were on a walk and he needed to use their bathroom... my target actually walked us out afterward on the front porch.... giddy, yes, I had my squirt gun/fake camera at the ready. Sorry sir, but I will use a little child in warfare when necessary.

Benson and Josh do reconnaissance together, walkie talkie-ing, binoculars, and in disguises. They're like pros so it's gonna get ugly when it comes time to take each other out.  

Currently, there is an avid huntsman who has my name so I am on the lookout for decoys and camouflage. Game on, Mr. Hunter.  You don't know who you are dealing with. I ain't no sitting duck.

Now my biggest problem is the name I'm currently after is a boy who has an identical twin. Wish me luck.

Sistah Rice is in it to win it. Got to the cha.