Made up

Dress rehearsal. It was successful.  On the way home he wiped makeup off his face with wipes. We had been home about 20 minutes when I came out of the kitchen  becauseI heard a crashing sound.  Duncan was on the floor.  He seemed disoriented.  "How?"  I asked what happened.  He didnt know.  He stood up and felt light headed and then he was on the floor.  

He was fine the rest of the day. 

Then the first performance for the middle school was today at noon.  It ended at 3.15.  I was across the street at cub scouts from 4-5 so told Duncan to walk over there to have supper and rest before he had to be back for evening checkin at 5.30.  Somewhere between 3.15 and changing out of costume and walking across the street..  he started feeling dizzy and having trouble with his vision.  

I sent him to lie down and drink water.  I found some tylenol and prepped some food. He fell asleep which was good.  But only for 30 minutes.  He woke up and ate but looked awful.....  and not just because of all his stage makeup.  

It was time to head back across the street.  He said he was better and returned to the school.   My plan had been to wait for Patrick to collect little boys from scouts and then go to the school to sit in a quiet room for the long evening ahead.  We have tickets for tomorrow's performance.  

I arrived at the school at 6.15.   45 minutes after Duncan. I decided to check in on him before I settled in for the evening.  As I crossed the auditorium to go to the locker areas I saw the director.  I asked how is Duncan?  He looked confused and replied.  Fine.  Isn't he?  Then the band director from the orchestra pit saw me and called up..  "Duncan is throwing up."

I looked at the director and said.. "and that's why I'm here."

I found Duncan back stage leaning over a garbage can with a dozen 1920s clad girls clucking over him.  "He's shaking".  "He looks pale"  no one looks pale with stage makeup on.   "Did someone feed him nuts"  "get him a cold cloth"  "he needs water"..  there were two cool wet cloths and a glass of water and a chair brought within seconds. 

Boys were all standing further away....  their conversations were as follows...  did he really just hurl?  What did he eat, that stinks.  Who else knows his part?  His mom got here quick.  

After weeks and weeks of practice, we didnt have time to be sick.  With 45 minutes to show time..  we found a quiet, dark room to lie down in.  Pure peppermints.. massaging his head...  some ginger to settle his stomach... we removed as much of the thick makeup as we could without changing his look... more water.. more cool cloths...   another tylenol...  at 10 minutes to showtime he was having trouble standing without feeling dizzy and his head was pounding.. light bothered him. (Stage lights??!)

I left him and headed to the audience.  I recognized a few men from church and approached them.  "We need a blessing back stage."   

7.00 showtime.  Duncan was in the opening scene.  He wasn't as vivacious as he had been in many of the rehearsals but after the evening was over..  friends and family from the audience were shocked to learn he had been sick.   I sat back stage for the entire show.  He looked better and better as it went on.  He rested when he could and sipped water and we kept the cool cloths ready.  The cast were concerned but the show went on.  

Bows and well wishes in the foyer and then changed clothes.  Finally on our way home.  He slept in the back seat.  His head was pounding again.  Finally able to wash his face completely.  He said he felt better with his face clean but all he wanted was dark and to sleep.  

Tomorrow night...  we think we'll forego the heavy makeup.  It's the only thing in common with each problem..   and I also don't do well when wearing heavy makeup in a similar manner.  Hereditary makeup aversions?

Photos taken an hour apart.  

Should have taken one when he was curled up in the backseat on the way home.

Honoured

There was a delay as family exited the church into the frigid winter day and loaded into trucks and other vehicles to follow the hearse through the small streets of town onto the main road and finally turn off on to the road the wound it's way up above to overlook the small town from the cemetery.  It was only 8 degrees midday and as engines warmed and eyes were wet in remembrance of the life and memory of a dear father, grandfather, great grandfather, uncle, cousin, brother, and friend, the local vet astride his horse led a riderless horse.

The worn old saddle sat empty on the back of the old bally horse that day as it plodded through the still streets of the small town.  The sheriff and his deputy blocked traffic on the only road that enters and exits the town that was his home for 79 years.

Strangers with last minute Christmas shopping on their minds at the general store.  Recreation enthusiasts unloading their snowmobiles from their truck beds and trailers as they looked forward to blazing trails in the pristine powdery snow of the majestic Windriver Mountain range.  Visitors traveling through the small, rustic, western Wyoming town on their way to celebrate Christmas with family and friends.  All sensed and saw the moment of reverence and honoured a great man as the hearse he rode in took him on his final journey.

As the riderless horse was led up to the cemetery through the town, all stopped their activity and lowered cowboy hats over their hearts in reverence and honour as first the horse and then the hearse and then what seemed like an endless procession of family and friends made their way to pay final respects to his final resting place here on earth.  The line of cars was still leaving the church parking lot and inching it's way through the small town past the general store and up the road overlooking the town as the horse stopped and the hearse was unloaded next to a headstone with his wife's name on it. So great were the numbers of those who made the winter journey just two days before Christmas to honour a great man who spent his life with a smile on his face and a laugh in his belly and a story, advice or uplifting message to share in his heart next to the corral fence, out in the back forty or around the kitchen table laden down with vittles.

Gone but not forgotten is an understatement.  Gone on ahead to blaze trails at the great ranch in heaven.  He left behind his own brand of understanding and lived so we can all remember.  "Let the light of your fire shine before men so that they can see the great things you do and praise the Boss in heaven."

Unhobbled

In Memory of Richard Roy Noble

by Andy Nelson

Lord, how can heaven be any better,

than what I have had right here;

I spent my whole life, amidst joy and strife, 

With most of my loved ones near.

I love this ranch, my family, and friends,

And I'm truly a blessed man;

You let me serve, and at times observe,

Thy hand in this mortal plan.

As I spent my life studying the horse,

I grew much closer to thee;

then you taught me how, to care for a cow,

And also a family.

You allowed me to live as free as rain,

But you never ceased to guide me;

From my first breath, through life and through death,

You walked each step beside me. 

It's been a challenge and as I have aged,

I've been hobbled to this shell;

But it's time to leave, and not time to grieve,

I come before thee to dwell.

But Father, before we have to depart,

I ask this favor in kind;

Bless my little ones, my daughter and sons,

And those that I leave behind.

It might be nice if my cow dog was there,

And maybe a horse to ride;

I don't ask a lot, but I hope you got,

Some cows on the other side.

I am ready now to see my Savior,

I know he died that I might be;

As loved ones meet me, and others greet me,

I'm unhobbled now and free.

This was the life sketch read at the funeral

THE SEASONS OF DICK NOBLE

The Star of Bethlehem shines brightly across the Cora Valley where it rests peacefully above the old Noble ranch barn, and a sad-eyed collie dog lays upon the stone porch waiting to hear his master’s four-wheeler fire up…

Richard Roy “Dick” Noble was born on December 15, 1936, in Rock Springs, Wyoming to Carroll R. and Christina Noble (whose dad was Pinedale’s first sheriff). He died on December 15, 2015 near Cora, Wyoming at the historic Centennial ranch he dearly loved.  We often times pick the day we come into this world and don’t get to pick the day we go out. But, it came to pass, that the Lord picked Dick up the same day he dropped him off, 79 years later. He is preceded in death by his wife, Louise, his baby daughter, Kelly Elizabeth, his mother and father, his brother Mike Noble, and his sister Pat Pearson.

Dick’s early schooling began in the little one-room Cora schoolhouse. On frosty, winter mornings he would arise, catch a good horse, and at a high lope, pull his brother Jim on skis across the snowy flats and come to a sliding stop at the little country school. Pranks were pulled on fellow students and mischief dealt to the teacher, but still the lessons of life were offered for the taking and happily
considered.  Later, Dick completed his high school education in Pinedale, Wyoming where he played football and basketball for PHS.

On September 23, 1958, in the little white LDS church near Pine Creek, Dick married the love of his life, Louise Simpson, whom he had met when she worked during the summertime for the Binning family across the meadow from the ranch. They began a courtship which led to 42 years of marriage, five children, thirteen grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren.

Dick became a member of the LDS Church on October 24, 1963. He and Louise were then sealed for eternity in the Logan, Utah Temple on November 4, 1964. From 1974 to 1981, Dick served as Bishop in Pinedale and thereafter was called to serve on the high counsel of the church.  And always with church and faith in mind, Dick loved the workings of the family’s cattle, sheep, and horse ranch, which has raised six-generations of Nobles, and he especially loved the majesty of its wide, open spaces.  It was there he could live the teachings of his church by helping those he especially
cared about: the youth of his community. Many kids came and went through those old ranch gates—gates that were always left wide open and welcoming.

The bunkhouse was always alive with youngsters who simply needed a warm bed, a safe haven, a comforting hug, gentle encouragement, and a plate load of Dick and Louise’s tasty vittles. “Just keep makin’ pancakes, Louise; there’s more kids in the bunkhouse this mornin’!” And in the evening time, when the day’s work was done, Dick and Louise loved to watch what they called “the purple
cloak of night” bathe the valley in its magic glow.

Dick loved the mountains and the pack trips the family provided through their outfitting business, the Flying U. And always, in the most remote of wilderness, Dick would find someone along a mountain trail and call him: Friend. He was drawn to people and people to him. One young woman told the family: “Know why I loved your Dad? It’s because he loved me and never judged me.”

One of Dick’s favorite sayings was: “I hate the guys who criticize and minimize the other guy’s enterprise, which makes them rise above the guys who criticize!” And he was fond of saying: “You’ll get happy in the same pants you got mad in or go home and change!”

Dick loved breaking and giving away good saddle horses and work teams—Bally Rabbit, Vicki Gin, Nicky Tom Boy, and a mare called Freddie, and old Ichabod and Billy and Charlie.  When his daughter Tina asked him why he did it, he replied, “There’s a lot more good horses that can wear this old saddle and When Louise died in 2000, Dick was left to continue his life on the ranch with his
kids and grandkids. Seven years later, though, he met Margaret Ellen Sims and on July 27, 2007 they were married and sealed in the Ogden, Utah Temple. With great joy, he always liked telling of Maggie’s and his summers of 2008 and 2009 and their handcart mission together at Sixth Crossing near Muddy Gap, Wyoming. Maggie and Dick would dress up in pioneer clothing, all fit and fine,
and share stories of the past with kids known as “trekkers” who attended the event. The youth would re-enact the pulling of the Willy and Martin handcarts, as was done so many years ago, and Dick would saddle up old Bally or Mort or Slick and either follow along or meet along the dusty trail to keep the kids mesmerized with more intriguing storytelling.

Throughout the years, Dick served his community and supported its activities in many arenas.  For several years, he was on the board of the Sublette County Community Counseling; he and Louise participated in Rendezvous as an antelope soldier and Indian maiden, who performed the Lord’s Prayer in sign language during many pageants, and for several more years, was a wagon
teamster and an outrider whose job was to stop runaway horseback riders and wagons. He loved the running of the cutters down main street Pinedale in the days of yesteryear. Dick loved sharing the live Cowboy Nativity with the community for 28 years; this tradition will continue.  And many folks did not know that Dick loved to pencil sketch; ducks and geese were his favorite subjects. And he especially loved the soothing, peaceful notes of grandson Brandon's cello.

For many years, Dick attended every sporting event he could. From rodeo to school activities, he was every athlete’s grandpa; every student’s biggest fan; every sport’s favorite mascot.  He cheered kids when they won and even when they did not, saying, “Pick your heads up, you can do it!” He earned the nickname Chappy, as he always carried a tube of chapstick in his pocket, and it was definitely considered community property. And over the years, there was many a young boy who waited for Dick’s special talk on how to be a man.

In his later years, like Hank the Cow Dog, Dick was designated head of ranch security by his son-in-law, James. Fire up the four-wheeler! Lots of fence lines and livestock to check every day, maybe two times, three times, or more! Hurry, hurry! Busy, busy! Work to be done! And babysitting the little ones was a special time for Dick and his tiny crew. Many, sneaky, between-meal snacks
were gleefully consumed!

Everyone will sorely miss this gentle man who was always there for anyone in need of him and the solace of his company. His neighbors said his word was his bond; a man of integrity. Indeed, Dick was a special man—deep inside—top to bottom—start to finish. He loved his family, his church, and his friends.

Whatever was happening and wherever it was, Dick’s family was always doing it together. This simply made him very happy.

Dick Noble is survived by his wife Maggie and his children and their families:
Rick Noble (Karen/son Brandon (Victoria);
Tina Nelson (James/son Sam (Jamiee/daughter Katie), daughter Mardy Sleight (Keith/children Clairee, Konner, Shonee, Zaydee, and Riggins), son Neal (Nicole/daughter Paige), son Gus;
Pat Noble (Nova/children Caleb, Sarah, Miles, Duncan, Whitaker, and Emerson);
and Rob Noble (Shelli/children Robynn and Joe (Kaci and Rynlie);
Dick’s brother Jim Noble (Margret);
sister-in-law Ruth Noble;
brother-in-law Ben Pearson;
 and numerous nieces and nephews.

The Star shines brightly on the old home ranch and a sad-eyed dog waits…

6.1 Richter Scale Morning

Duncan -- "I was still asleep.  Suddenly my bed shook and there was a crashing noise all at once.  I could hear Emerson and Whittaker crying.  Miles was talking to them.  Then a thundering sound just outside my bedroom and Mummy was yelling for Daddy.  I climbed off my bed and grabbed for Whittaker's arm and pulled him out and got him on the bunk bed.  The girls were at the door of my room and everyone was helping to rescue us."

Miles -- "I had been upstairs with Emerson looking for his blanket.  We were trying to stay very quiet so we didn't wake everyone else.  Whittaker woke though and climbed out of his bed and sat on a chair next to my hammock.  Emerson and I climbed back into my hammock and he was almost asleep while I read my book.  I saw the screws behind the bookshelf pop out of the wall.  My firsts thoughts were to put up my arms and catch it, but I was stuck with Emerson next to me.  Instead I put my arms over Emerson's face to lessen the blows of the books that were flying at us.  Whittaker rolled over and landed on my pillow.  Duncan jumped off his bunk and pulled him out from under the debris.  Emerson was crying and Whittaker was whining mostly, I kept telling them, don't whine, it's okay, don't be sad.  Mummy came first and I heard Daddy running down the stairs.  The girls stood at the door and asked, 'WHAT. WAS. THAT?'"

Sarah -- "My alarm had been going off for a while.  I'd snoozed it two or three times.  Then I heard the crash and I turned to Kenzie and asked if she heard it.  She was like, YEAH.  So, I frantically looked for my bathrobe.  I thought it was the huge beet pot from yesterday's canning and I was thinking about what a mess it would be to clean it up off the floor.  We went to check out the crash.  Before we got there we heard Mum scream for Dad.  We hurried then.  I tried to lift the shelf but it was so close to the wall so every time I tried to lift it, it would just put a hole in the wall.  After I realized that everyone was okay, I went back to bed.  After a few minutes Emerson came to tell us that the boys needed us.  I was too tired to put books on the shelf, so I pulled Emerson into bed with me and Kenzie and started to drill him with questions.  What happened?  I asked if a large hippo was in the hammock.   He answered emphatically.. YES!  Then Kenzie asked if a giraffe was pooping in the hammock.. He answered... YES!  Then I realized he wasn't a good source of information and Mum had probably sent him for us.  We went so we didn't get in trouble.  Everyone was holding the shelf but a lamp had fallen behind so I squeezed behind to get it out before it could be put back.  After that I laid on the couch and went back to sleep."

Kenzie -- "Sarah's alarm had gone off but we turned it off.  We were too tired to get up.  Emerson got up and left.  I think we'd both fallen asleep again when we heard the crash.  I sat up fast and asked Sarah if she heard it.  She did and we both got up.  Then we heard a blood curdling scream.  Nova was yelling for Pat.  I thought maybe their bed had broken and crashed.  I was running up the stairs but behind me I heard Sarah.  "OH MY GOSH!"  I turned around and looked in the boys room.   Nova was holding the book shelf up so it wasn't on Miles and Emerson.  Whittaker was sitting on his bed ranting about all his things being gone!  There were still books and boxes flying off the shelves.  Patrick came and held the bookshelf up and we tried to reach the legs and arms of Emerson and Miles to  help them out but Miles pushed Emerson out a hole he could see towards the bed, then he crawled out behind him.  Nova took a picture once we knew no one was hurt.  I still didn't know what caused the disaster but it sure was a scary mess.  Sarah and I went back to our room.  I put on a bathrobe and then Emerson told us we had to come help.  It took the five of us to lift the shelf back up and there were still some books falling off as we put it back in place."

Patrick -- "Nova's scream from somewhere woke me with such a start that I got up in a flash forgetting completely about my cracked ribs and pulled muscles.  She was downstairs and the girls just ran into the boys room.  I came around the corner and saw the mess.  They boys were trying to climb out as Nova held up the bookshelf.  I took over holding the shelf and they boys climbed out unharmed.  Whittaker was pouting about his room being destroyed and Emerson was laughing now as the girls talked to him about what had happened.  We righted the bookshelf.  There's a gouge in the wall where a corner went through the wall and also where all the screws that were supposed to be securing it to the wall had pulled out.  I sent Duncan for my drill and some new longer screws.  The kids helped hold it in place as I screwed it back into studs.  What a way to wake up.  I think I wrenched my back."

Whittaker -- "Miles and Emerson talking woke me up and I got up and was sitting on my little chair.  Then I started to climb in the hammock with Miles and snuggle in with Emerson but then the hammock fell and I was on the ground and Duncan grabbed me and yanked me out onto the bed.  Some boxes and clothes fell on us.  Mummy told me to climb up onto the top bunk and stay there.  My room was destroyed!  All my clothes were buried and gone and my Lego too."

Emerson -- "I snuggling in hammock.  There three boys in hammock.  It fall and fall and CRASH!  The books keep hit me and I punch them and crying.  Lots of them.. lots and lots, books.  Miles get me out with Duncan and Kenzie.  Sarah take me to the stairs.  BIG MESS!  The hammock fall and CRASH and BIG MESS.    Daddy fix it.  Mummy clean up."

Nova -- "I had heard Miles and Emerson upstairs looking for a blanket.  I told them it was too early to be up.  Then it was quiet, but now I was awake.  I lay for a few minutes and then grabbed my phone to check my messages.  I was making a mental to do list for the day when I heard an enormous crash.  My first thought was to the mixing bowls that I had precariously stacked the night before to dry and wondered if the cats had caused an avalanche but by the time I was out of bed and scurrying down the hall I could hear Emerson crying and Miles talking to him.  It wasn't the mixing bowls.  What could have made such a crash downstairs.  Slight panic was setting in as I raced down the stairs.  I don't think anything could have prepared me for the sight of the enormous shelving unit fallen over in the boys room with arms and legs pinned underneath.  I dropped my phone and yelled for Patrick.  I grabbed the shelf while talking to Miles.  Duncan was reaching under from the side of the bed and had Whittaker out and was helping him up onto the bunk bed.  Miles assured me that he was okay and he thinks Emerson is fine also.  How could they be?  The entire shelving unit had landed on them.  Books and boxes were still falling on them with every twist and turn they made to try to extricate themselves.  The girls were suddenly behind me asking, "WHAT WAS THAT?"  Then Sarah and Kenzie were helping to reach limbs for extrication. Patrick appeared next to me and took over lifting the bookshelf so I backed away and went with Sarah to make sure that Emerson wasn't hurt.  Whittaker was whining from the top bunk as he looked down on the disaster that was his bedroom.  He was lamenting his clothes, his books, his toys, convinced that they were destroyed and irretrievable.  The girls left and I sent Emerson for them when we were ready to lift the shelf back up.  They returned in bathrobes and the shelf was re secured to the wall.  We spent the next hour making some semblance of order out of the chaos.  Unbelievably, no one was injured although Miles got a small scratch on his arm as we cleaned up.  Damage was minimal.  A few holes in the wall, and the table that I credit with keeping the boys unharmed that had been set up to do Lego in the center of the room had taken the brunt of the shelf's fall.  One leg bent but was fixable.  Without the table it would have landed right on the boys.  Little boys who hang hammocks from bookshelves in bedrooms have guardian angels working overtime!"
 

Some items that flew off the shelf were amazingly unbroken.  Especially this box labeled Super Fragile.. Will break if dropped!  But apparently not if flung from a falling bookshelf in the wee hours of the morning.  Grandma's stained glass window panes were either extremely well packed, not meant to break or Grandma's labels about breaking if dropped were grossly exaggerated. 

Our blessings are many

This is our mantra.

With a year filled with emergency surgery for emersons collapsing intestines, miles concussion, Whittakers stitches, Calebs broken thumb, a dead computer monitor, a swimming cell phone, the cats broken leg, an ear infection, miles has the worlds most resistant wart gone wild, 4 with pinkeye, 2 rounds with the flu, daddy's speeding ticket, Sarah's collision, Calebs collision which has resulted in the demise of our van .   

We prefer to dwell on how many blessings we still have.  we have a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs , food to eat, employment, a bumper crop of apples, a garden that produced, keen minds, we are all alive and well, okay so perhaps a few of us have a cold but we will overcome that, family, friends a plenty, and good neighbours, love, laughter and an abundance of blessings.  

All in all not a bad day.

A day that begins early with a quick breakfast and everyone cheerfully loading into the van, watching the sun rise behind us as we head west with great excitement propelling us to our destination, and an impulsive romp in a vast field of strikingly beautiful yellow sunflowers is bound to be a day fondly remembered. 

Even if after being on the road for almost 3 hours (took a small detour going the wrong direction) and knowing that we were less than 10 miles from our destination found us stopped in our tracks with a flat tire.  WAIT.. make that two flat tires.  Yes. We heard a sudden noise and discovered that simultaneously, both rear tires were going flat.  The drivers side was already completely flat, but the passenger side was still hissing as it slowly lost air.  Patrick located the hole and the kids took turns keeping their finger in it to keep it from going completely flat.  Not that a child's finger in the hole would make it drivable.  There was just some comfort in knowing that we could control it's loss of air.

When they weren't taking a turn keeping their finger in the hole, the kids and I decided to make it a lunch stop, but someone always stayed on the look out for any sign that assistance might be coming.  We had three cell phones with us.  No service had been detected for the last 45 miles and there wasn't any here either.   We had only seen one other vehicle on the road all morning and it was headed the opposite direction.

We hadn't even jacked up the van yet when a vehicle approaching was spotted.  Now this is a very flat area... and wisdom dictates that you travel slowly along the dirt roads.  You know to avoid flat tires... although sometimes... they happen anyway!  So, although we saw an approaching vehicle, it was almost five minutes before it slowed to a stop next to us.  A big brown pick up truck, and a young couple with their cute little dog 'Kirby', were heaven sent.

Not only did they have a screw driver that made using our jack even simpler, they had an old can of 'fix a flat'.  He said that he had just switched trucks and was surprised he'd tossed this in.  He'd never actually used it before but we could give it a try.  They stopped with us about 10 minutes until we were loaded back up and ready to roll.  We'd see them at the geode beds in just a few miles.  They said they'd be watching for us.  

Although it was only 7 miles to the geode beds, we took almost 45 minutes to get there. 

It is said that in this area, on a clear day, you can look out so far that you can see the curvature of the earth.  We could certainly see for miles and in the distance we noticed the salt flats.  Miles has been wanting to go see the Salt Flats ever since we watched the film, "The Fastest Indian" last spring.  Unfortunately, now, with our current predicament, we didn't dare add any more miles than necessary.  We still weren't positive if we were going to make it home without another incident.  I guess it just means we'll have to return again. 

We approached the 'pits', uncertain what we would face.  We had come in the hopes that we would  be able to successfully, within a short few hours, be able to dig and find a geode.  If all went well, one geode each!  The way the Dugway geode beds operate is that the owner uses his back hoe to dig for geodes.  He can obviously take what he wants from the large pit that he has created.  Then it is available to the general public, who wish to make the journey to the geode beds, to come search for geodes for themselves.  You may take as much as you can carry yourself and without using any tools other than simple hand tools.

I'm not certain what I expected the beds to look like when we arrived but I know I wasn't prepared for how easily the geodes would be to find!  There were discarded geodes and partial geodes all over the ground at the base of the pits.  The little boys searched through what seemed to be rubble finding treasure after treasure.  Their buckets were filling quickly.  The older folks still wanted the excitement of digging and finding a geode and of course hoped to find a large one.  We were not disappointed.

Whittaker even learned a few new words on our adventure.  Itty = Pretty, ocks = rocks and ucket = bucket.  He sat amongst the geodes picking up partial sections of geodes and marveling at the itty ocks, watching them sparkle in the sunlight for a few moments and then he would say, "itty ocks, ucket" and chuck them into the bucket.  We brought home many lovely pieces of broken geodes.

Cooper was also most impressed with the geodes that he found.  He was carefully looking for sparkly specimens.  He was choosing ones to take home for each member of his family.   He found what he needed within ten minutes and then began to ask how much longer we thought we'd be.  Once he realized we were here for a while, he gave up waiting for us and enjoyed the outdoor adventure looking for more geodes.  I learned after getting to the van that he had spent the rest of the hour looking for geodes, showing them to me and then throwing them away.  He only needed five thanks.  Also I learned that he thought we were nuts.
He said, "I only picked sparkly pretty geodes.  I think you guys picked some kind of ugly ones.  I hope they look better when you wash them."

He wasn't aware that what we had were whole unbroken geodes which held the sparkly beauty inside and not only would we be washing them, we would then be purposely breaking them open!  Our life would be so blah without Cooper.  I texted Channa that she couldn't have him back when she and the other kids returned from the east coast adventure they were on.  I even told Cooper that I texted her that.
He told me, "I will have to return to my family you know.  But I want to go on your next adventure with you." 

 "Hey Nova, I got a good one...!!"

 "... in my shoe."

I became concerned about my sanity when I first saw how deep the pits were.  I wondered if I would relax at all while we were there or if I'd be able to let Whittaker out of a safe arms distance at all.  No worries had been necessary.  It was like being in a massive sand box and although yes there were rocks at the base it didn't seem to be a problem.  The kids thought it was great to 'scale' the tall side of the pit and stand on top of the world.  It was like climbing sand, so it was a bit of a challenge but not scary at all.  Of course once they reached the top they were simply back on the ground near the van, so it wasn't the least bit exciting unless you only saw them from the bottom of the pit.  The pit was at least 25 feet deep and at least that across from one edge to the other.  This was only one of a dozen pits in the area.  It appeared to be one of the most recently dug though so we thought it looked most promising!

We had left home at 7am.  It had taken us until almost 1pm to arrive at the geode beds.  We had taken a 40 mile detour, stopped for gas and to smell the flowers.  

We left the geode beds by 3:30.  We knew we had a long drive ahead to get home and we had already eaten our food for lunch and depleted over 2/3 of our water.  We hadn't intended to eat dinner until we returned home.  Now we knew it would be a long drive with tired, and hungry children who were dirty, yet happy.  We limped along averaging 10-15 miles/hour for just over four hours before we reached a paved road.  It was another hour before we reached a gas station with air for the low tire.  We had managed to travel the entire 'old pony express road' from Dugway to Faust with only 10psi in the one tire and a spare on the other side.  Our drive home had found everyone a chance to nap, read, sing and discuss how blessed we had been.  I mentioned that we should say a prayer of thanks for our safety and good fortune of the day and said how if things hadn't happened so quickly during the flat tire fiasco, I would have recommended a prayer then also.  Sarah quietly said, "I already prayed.  And when I said 'amen', Miles yelled that he saw someone coming."  

Out of the mouths of babes... (meaning she is young and can still teach me... not that she is a good looking gal... although that she is as well!)

By almost 9pm we were snarfing down our Subway sandwiches.  We still had an hour to travel home from Tooele, but there was no need to drive that section with empty stomachs.  By 10:15, our adventure was over.  Five of the eight of us were sound asleep at home in their beds.  The others were unloading the van.  I took the opportunity to give the flat tire, that fell out when we opened the trunk, a nice hard kick for being so difficult.  

We never did see our angels in the big brown pick up truck at the geode beds.  And other than the other couple we dug with and the other family in the other pit, we only saw two other vehicles the whole day. 

Thankfully, Monday was a holiday and we took advantage of the day to repair tires on the van and crack open some much anticipated geodes.  There were a few duds... but most were very rewarding!  Even Cooper thought we had chosen some nice ones after all.

Japan and Mexico

Both Japan and Mexico are far away. Their holidays today of, coming of age day and 3 kings day aren't ones I'm familiar with. Hmm.. how do I celebrate?

It was taken care of for me. I received an email from my brother John and his family that live in Japan. It was a wonderful letter and slide show of photos from the last 16 years of their family growing and enjoying each other. It was beautiful! I loved it.

It reminds me that the world is shrinking with each technological advance. These are precious gifts that we can have in this fast paced world to know, learn of, and see family on the other side of the globe. Although I've never visited their incredible treehouse home, I am in awe of how elegant it is from the photographs I've seen. I haven't seen my 2 nephews in almost 4 years, but I know they've grown and matured into intelligent, handsome young men who have gained a passion for life from their dad with a sense of propriety from their mum! I've followed the incredible exploits (wrong word choice I'm sure), of my brother as he's hobnobbed with the upper class and the elite, he's followed his dreams and he amazes everyone he comes in contact with. Although we don't here or see much of Hiro, I know she is that beautiful swan on a pond. She exudes elegance and class, and under the water, behind the scenes, she's paddling her feet and keeping it all together.
You can tell a lot from the photos of a family and John's family photos say,

Love, Laugh and Live!

We love hearing from family and friends. I suppose for a coming of age holiday post, the fact that I would prefer to hear from loved ones than material possessions...must mean I'm growing up! As for Mexico's 3 kings... well those kings brought 3 gifts... I can't think of 3 better gifts than the example to Love, Laugh and Live!

We love the Japanrights!!

Dickens

For book club this month we read Charles Dickens, 'A Christmas Carol'. It was interesting to learn that Dickens strapped for cash, whipped out this short little story just to make ends meet, which, unfortunately for him, it did not pay off right away. What would he think of the impact that it still has over a hundred years later. The many varied adaptations that have been made. The fact that it is the most remade motion picture ever ought to impress him, right after someone tells him what a motion picture is.

My point in bringing this up is this. After discussing the story, an interesting comment was made that caused me to have an epiphany related to the story and I impressed myself with my depth of thought.

The comment was that she actually preferred Thanksgiving during the holiday season because of all the holidays it caused her to pause and reflect on her bounty and prepare as she headed into the holiday season with a reflection of her year so far.

This was my epiphany.

Thanksgiving is our holiday ghost of the past. Time for reflecting on the year.

Christmas, the holiday ghost of the present. Time of busyness and knowing where you stand. With all the bustle associated with the season, there doesn't seem to be as much time for reflection.

New Year's, the holiday ghost of the future. The time to do something about what you reflected on in the past, know and learned of the present and make resolutions for the future.

Now wasn't that good... It works in matters of food too... Thanksgiving is when we begin the feast, Christmas is the desserts and New Year's we consider our new resolves for diets.

Perhaps I should get more sleep?

A time for Decorations

Psalm 118:19-29

19 Open to me the gates of righteousness: I will go into them, and I will praise the Lord:
20 This gate of the Lord, into which the righteous shall enter
21 I will praise thee: for thou hast heard me, and art become my salvation.
22 The stone which the builders refused is become the head stone of the corner.
23 This is the Lord's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes.
24 This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.
25 Save now, i beseech thee, O Lord: O Lord, I beseech thee, send now prosperity.
26 Blessed be he that cometh in the name of teh Lord: we have blessed you out of the house of the Lord.
27 God is the Lord, which hath shewed us light: bind the sacrifice with cords, even unto the horns of the altar.
28 Thou art my God, and I will praise thee: thou art my God, I will exalt thee.
29 O give thanks unto the Lord: for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever.

As I considered these verses and decorating our home for the holidays, I found myself thinking this year about why. Why do I pull out treasured decorations each year and surround myself with these little doo dads. Is it just because I always have? Is it because I've succumbed to the commercialism of the day? Is there some true meaning to decorating? I know there are the stories that have come about regarding the meaning behind each of the symbols of Christmas... but are these simply to justify the desire to continue in the festive traditions.

After considering these verses I found myself over the last few evenings as we decorated, re-evaluating the decorations that I choose to use. Decorations are a way of declaring our hearts. Instead of a time of decorations, I would say it is a time of declaration. This is not just a Happy Holiday as the politically correct would have us say, it is a Merry Christmas of deep and meaningful significance. We declare to all that Christmas is here to remind us of an incredible event that took place over 2000 years ago.

And so as we trimmed the tree and hung stockings, I brought up the topic with my decorating assistants. We want to show that this truly is the day that the Lord has made and we should rejoice and be glad. So, we all agreed that we would place more emphasis on the nativity scene in the living room and let some of our snowmen and elves take up less prominent places in our home... and hopefully in our hearts as well.

Blessed Baby - Backlog blog

Sept. 27th, 2009

Blessed by Daddy

This little blessing suit was a gift from Pat's mother, Louise when we were blessing Caleb 14 years ago. Little did she know back then that this little outfit would see plenty of use with four grandsons. Grandma Louise passed away when Sarah was 6 months old, but having this little suit has reminded us of her, as each of my boys have been blessed. We already know that she is with us in spirit and would be so pleased with all these Noble grandsons. Having this physical reminder is special to us though.

We were so happy to have Tina, Mardy and Clairee attend his blessing. Happy that my mum hadn't made her return home arrangements still so that she could be with us also. Grateful to the friends and home teachers who assisted with the blessing. Grateful for the opportunity to be a part of this special young babe's life and part of what will shape and mold who he is to be. Grateful for examples around us and guidance to help him along his way. I'm grateful to be his mother, to have been entrusted with yet another wonderful boy to love and adore. I love his little looks, his little sounds, and little toes. I know he will not always be the adorable little man that snuggles perfectly into the contours of my neck and fits in my arms, but I know that he will always be there in my heart because I've watched as each of my other sons who once were so perfectly snuggled in my arms have grown and become Noble boys and young men. And my heart swells.
I love that Whittaker wore the blessing outfit originally purchased for Caleb, and that Caleb held the microphone for Whittakers blessing. (full circle, irony, cool, ... mushy moment.. frugal faux pas.??)

Souviens-toi

I wondered if this should be Sparky's Birthday Blog or Sarah's but finally settled on Sparky since it really is because of him, and Sarah has already received this as a gift from him.

Sparky started something when Sarah was born. He gave her a song. He was still going to BYU, and would often come up on weekends alone or with friends to hang out and have a meal! Every time he would come to visit us he would hold Sarah and sing her 'her' song. It was a beautiful song set to Dvorák's New World Symphony. A hymn "Souviens-toi", in the French hymnal 'Cantiques'. It was beautiful music, lyrics and a beautiful moment every time he started to sing.

He has carried this on with his own little girls. Audrey, having "Always" by Irving Berlin, and Alyssa, having "Lida Rose", from "The Music Man". Somehow it must be a little girl thing because I don't recall any songs for Miles or Duncan. Maybe because he wasn't around as much though. But this will always be a special song for Sarah from her Uncle Sparky. We sang it at her baptism and now at ten yeas old, she is learning to play a simplified version on the piano. Thank you Sparky for such a sweet memory.

The song translated...

Remember, My Child
Remember, my child : not long ago,
your divine parents held you in their arms.
Today you are here, marvelously present.
Your gaze still shines with the reflection of heaven.
Talk to me, my child, about that blessed place,
because for you the veil is still thin.

Remember, my child, the forests, the cities.
Can we down here imagine them?
And the night sky, is it rosy or gray?
Is the sun waiting for snow or rain?
Describe to me, my child, the color of the meadows
and the birdsongs of a forgotten world.

Remember, my child: at the dawn of time,
we were friends playing in the wind.
Then one day in joy we chose to accept
the Lord’s grand plan of life.
That night, my child, we promised through love,
and through faith, to be reunited.

Happy Birthday Sparky... Hope D.C. doesn't end up seeming too far away!

'doing' Christmas

Tonight I got to 'do' some real Christmas. I went to a lady's home and wrapped gifts for a family that wouldn't be getting Christmas if these gifts hadn't been donated. I wished I'd learned of it sooner so I could have helped with some of the gifts. Instead I was at least able to donate to the grocery fund. While two ladies and I wrapped gifts, (I felt all thumbs but soon remembered how to wrap gifts.. since of course I haven't paper wrapped a gift in at least 5 years.), another lady went to the grocery store for about 2 weeks worth of groceries that would be delivered along with the gifts.

There was such a joy in delivering those gifts at the end of the evening and seeing the appreciation and relief in a suffering mother's eyes. She wasn't sure what to do otherwise... it hasn't been a good year... the details aren't important but she is suffering and so are her children. Tonight I was reminded how rich I really am to have what we need and actually have a lot of our wants met too. I think I understand the feeling that Santa got when he first started out. I am excited to see my own children recieve their gifts on Christmas morning but there is a much different joy in giving when there is a need. I hope to start earlier next year searching for the need, and want my children to learn that joy that true giving is. For me... we can move straight to New Year's... I've done Christmas already.

More things to 'DO' in December

Excitement is in the air... A busy Sunday was ahead of us. Both Caleb and I had presidency meetings before church so we were up early and got everyone dressed ahead of time so that when I returned from my meeting we wouldn't have a big rush to be ready on time... Caleb and I were both singing in the choir and had to be there early also. The Primary was singing two songs today and I didn't want to forget any of the visuals to help them remember the words to the last verse since we hadn't really nailed it yet without them. I also had fun game plans for singing time... I really think Sunday mornings are getting out of hand... I practically need to pack my luggage and have an itinerary to make it through the day!

But today we took a slightly different approach. Caleb left for his meeting and I headed to the shower having just one hour until he returned and I had to be gone... The rest of the kids were ready, just me! As I stepped into the bathroom, I heard a little voice behind me... "Mummy I don't feel very good"

Miles was white as a ghost. We quickly found the coughee pot and a towel and lay on the couch. Then I heard what happened.... The kids had been goofing off and Miles had fallen and hit his head. While I got the low down on what happened, Miles fell asleep..... ahh.. not good after hitting your head! He was rousable but still very white and sleepy.

So instead of a shower and a day as planned... a few phone calls... great friends and neighbours (thanks B.C., Amber, Genevieve, Gina, Channa)... and Miles and I headed off to the emergency room... we got as far as the back door... when he began heaving. Thankfully he was still carrying the coughee pot. A little clean up and we tried again.

As the nurse asked Miles how he hurt his head, he replied, "We were playing a game downstairs. We run around the kiwi really fast and then flop over on the potato, but I missed the potato." (the translation, which I had to give to the nurse was, "we have 2 large beanbag things in our downstairs... they are two different shades of brown and we call them the kiwi and the potato.") Completely logical... not a head injury speech mix-up!
Another question they asked was if he always dressed in a shirt and tie to come to the hospital? "I don't think so, in my baby book I was only wearing a diaper when I was at the hospital and I don't know if I've ever been any other times."
And another was, "What grade are you in at school?"... should have been an easy question... except as he looked at me... I realized..."well he's homeschooled in Science 2, History 3, Math 2, English 1, Art 4, Spanish K, and Music 1... so do you average the grade level?"
After about 5 hours in E.R., CT scans, X-Rays and a few different doctors examining him... Miles was perking up, had some colour back in his face, the results were good. He did have a mild concussion and a slight fracture to the rear of his skull. However he was able to be discharged. Another plus to our visit was the extra peek inside his head to determine that his head is healing well and just as has been hoped for, ever since his surgeries so very long ago!


We had been there a while and they wanted to know if he could keep any food down so they brought him some cheese, crackers and juice. When we were being discharged the nurse who had brought the snacks earlier (which he did thankfully keep down!), he asked,

"Do you ever hand out apples at this hospital?"
Nurse - "Oh, I could probably find you one are you still hungry?"
"No, I don't need one, I just wondered cause you know... An apple a day keeps the doctor away."

The nurse and I did not see that one coming!... I think he's just fine! In fact since we arrived home he's still playing hospital with Mackenzie and Sarah as nurses in training... Kenzie read him stories and Sarah has played Othello. Duncan even joined in to play checkers but claims he's not a nurse, just a visitor. He's to refrain from jarring movements or high-impact sports and activities... so I guess the kiwi/potato flop game is now over!

As I drove home with snow all around, I realized that I've made the trek to Primary Children's all too often in the weeks or days just before Christmas! When Caleb was five we went the first week in Dec. for his Subdural hematoma (head injury). A week before Christmas when Miles was 21 months old... again in Dec. he fell over the back of the couch and landed on his still very fragile head and we rushed him to instacare for evaluation. Miles was almost 3 and he had a bad reaction to the 2nd type of antibiotics for his bronchial pneumonia and we rushed to E.R. On Christmas eve when Duncan was 2, one of the thoughtful neighbourly goodies that were delivered to our home was a nutty concoction of sorts and although he didn't eat it he had handled it and just the oils on his hands from touching the nuts was enough to cause him to react. He had rubbed his eyes and they swole to double in size in minutes and he began to wheeze so we rushed to E.R. And then the last Christmas in our old house we woke up to have Miles having a dreadful Asthma attack induced by yet another bout with bronchitis, and had to track down a nebulizer to keep him breathing.

I'm struck by the same thought every time I'm driving to the E.R We're normally so healthy and they pick the snowy treacherous days around Christmas to need to be the time for us to be patrons of the Primary Children's Hospital, but each time I'm reminded how blessed I am. I have the Hospital relatively close by and available to me. We only seem to need it once a year at best. I'm always overwhelmed with the staff at that hospital... I think they hide their angel wings well inside their scrubs, and it must be a job requirement at Primary's to always have a smile. We haven't had to stay overnight but 2 times... Caleb's head and Miles Surgery (which we knew about ahead of time.) We've always left patched up and good as new ready to go on with our lives and I know that not all are so fortunate!

Prompt -- December

December is upon us! It's a sneaky month arriving before you know it, right after that relaxing holiday they call Thanksgiving! But here it is... I love it! Mostly because I'm done... yes I'm done. O.K., so I have a few more things on my list to do, but knowing what they are is more than half the battle in my book... I just need an afternoon sometime without children and then I'm DONE!... it's that pesky without children for an afternoon that's the kicker!

I prepare for Christmas far enough in advance so that I can actually enjoy all the fun of December! December is a doing month! December should be a verb so it can be an action word! (yes we're doing Verbs in 2nd grade right now) But it should. No other month has so much action! It's as though people walk around blind most of the year and then wake up in December, see so much trouble in the world and try to do something to improve things. (I'm a guilty people too)

But more than the let's find world peace, December strikes me as a doing month because with children it makes me want to DO things. I likely wouldn't traipse out in the cold snow to sit on plastic and careen down a hillside except that my kids really want to... of course once out there I'm the one who's begging for "one more time?"... I want my children to experience all the feelings of Christmas. I want them to hear, see, smell, taste and feel it. I want them to ingest every bit... and not just foods. Lights, music, laughter, giving, thoughtfulness, the stories I remember growing up with and the new ones we discover every year. We probably read out loud together more in December than any other time... and I'm seriously a walking library patron spokeswoman I read so much... but we try to read a different Christmas story each night in December. There are so many wonderful Christmas movies to watch we have matinee Monday, in addition to the normal weekend theater 'chez nous' each week, just to squeeze in a few more shows. We've even been known to allow a Christmas movie during dinner, which includes being allowed to eat downstairs.... two big no no's... but it's Christmas time!

Christmas time gets us out of our house more... We're on the lookout for some service we can do. There are great parties in December... and let's face it we love to party! There are so many great activities that we can not take them all in.

We have decorated the house, including a little decorating in each bedroom so they feel festive every minute! We then sat down and each came up with four different things that we could 'do' together as a family to remember Christmas throughout December! With 6 of us that gives us 24 great activities in December. We have an advent Calendar with little pockets and the activity ideas were written down on slips of paper and randomly put into the pockets. Each day we will enjoy one! (Isn't it odd that I don't try this every month and have wonderful memories like this all the time.... I guess it wouldn't be as special if it happened so regularly)

Even without the snow arriving yet... we dipped into the hot cocoa tonight and had a cozy evening in front of the fire in the living room by the light of the Christmas tree and finalized our December plans. Well, not all... I hold a few back during the planning party so I can surprise them with some but I love to hear what they have enjoyed and remember from past years.

I think another reason that I like to start early is so that the focus can be where it should be. If I weren't ready I wouldn't be able to relax and take the moments to share the feelings of the Christmas spirit with my children.... I could easily turn into a combination of the Grinch, Shrek and Scrooge if I weren't ready for this holiday!

So to all Happy Holidays, get out and 'do' this December and remember to enjoy the Christmas season.... don't let it become a blur!

Thanksgiving Day

Over the river and thru the wood,
To grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh,
Thru the white and drifted snow, oh!

Over the river and thru the wood,
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes and bites the nose,
As over the ground we go.

Over the river and thru the wood,
To have a first-rate play;
Oh, hear the bell ring, "Ting-a-ling-ling!"
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day-ay!

Over the river and thru the wood,
Trot fast my dapple gray!
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting hound!
For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Over the river and through the wood,
And straight through the barnyard gate.
We seem to go extremely slow
It is so hard to wait!

Over the river and through the wood --
Now Grandmother's cap I spy!
Hurrah for fun! Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!
by Lydia Maria Child

No where in that song do they mention spending the day toiling over a turkey and all the trimmings... just the pudding and the pie, the joy of anticipating a day spent together!!! That Grandma had her priorities straight!

So this year, we plan to try something a little bit different. We're having macaroni and cheese tomorrow and ALL of us are going to enjoy having the day together! Instead of some of us relaxing while a few of us spend the entire day preparing one meal.... Don't get me wrong... this weekend we'll cook up the turkey... pick at it for a bit... enjoy some sandwiches, a little turkey soup, work on some long overdue projects, play some games with the kids and RELAX!!!

Learning to Share... and have patience

I received an email over the weekend that I thought I'd share along with my response!!

2008/11/23 Valerie
Mrs. N,

Where's the blogs? How can I feed my addiction for "noble moments?!" I must point out that I posted TWO blogs tonight!! (Never mind, that that's all I've done the last month). Your public needs you, hop to!!

J/K

Hope you're having a restful, non-blogging weekend. You deserve them, once in a while!

In reply...

Mrs. G,

I"ll have you know... that I am in withdrawals... My computer is infected with a virus that is wiping it of files... so it is going to see the specialist hoping that all is not lost (especially photos... not photos!!)

Duncan's computer which was as old as the hills finally gave up the ghost weeks ago... and since it really isn't imperative that a 5 year old have his own machine we opted to not replace it. Miles computer, as you know, blew up while you were here, filling the office with a stinky smoke... Since there were still 2 children's computers and that still sounds to me to be excessive, I wasn't rushing out to remedy the situation still.
Caleb's computer which was alarming while you were here, crashed and no longer allowed us access to really anything and it is now gone to a generous soul who may or may not be able to get it to run again.. (we deemed it worthy to repair since it wasn't an ancient relic, and was capable of running XP and has a sizable harddrive to work with). Besides, Caleb requires a machine for 90% of his school assignments, so it was a little easier to justify keeping the machine running for him.

Currently we only have Sarah's machine (the old relic, still running Windows 98 with pathetic ram and it's own share of issues) and I have to SHARE... which I don't do well... with three needy children who claim they have school to do, a preschooler who likes to pretend that he's doing school and used to entertain himself nicely on the computer while we did school, and Patrick who seems to think Elder's Quorum secretary duties make him deserving of a few minutes with the machine... (Oi vay)

To top it off... I've been madly trying to get everything done for the Primary activity in two weeks and now I may have to start all over! I had 7 of the 12 packets finished!!!
I have been having drafted blogs lurking in my nightmares keeping me from good quality sleep!! Well actually without the computer access, I've been going to bed on time and getting great sleep, cleaned the whole house, defrosted the freezer, caught up on the laundry, made a few casseroles to put in the freezer, finished Christmas shopping and I'm getting ready to paint the downstairs den... BUT, that isn't the point... and I refuse to admit that blogging might have been hindering household task progress! You won't hear that from ME!

As for my public..... I'm sure the 7 of you can learn a little patience along with me!!!

p.s.
It took the whole day to do this blog instead of the normal 30-45 minutes since I got kicked off for typing practice, an essay, a conference with the algebra teacher, and some wikipedia research on dolphins, there won't be any photos so you'll have to close your eyes and imagine a beatiful frost free and organized by food type freezer and imagine gifts beautifully wrapped and hidden ********* (kids sometimes read the blog so I better not mention where), and a tidy house ready for some exciting painting projects... while difficult to imagine, I can assure you it is really existing... at least until my computer returns!

Frank

When Miles was an infant he required surgeries for his Craniostenosis, a birth defect. For the first six weeks of his life he had a misshapen head that earned him the nickname of Franklin... for Franklin the Turtle. (O.K... so we should have been more caring and loving since we weren't sure how or even if the surgeries would turn out .... but that's just not our style.)

Although the month of surgeries was a touch and go time and an emotionally draining time due to all the unknown... we continued to refer to him on the sly.. as Frank... but now for a new reason.... Post surgery he had a very obvious scar zigzagging from ear to ear... so now he was Frankenstein.

Last year in October, my book club decided to read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. I wasn't too keen. I've never actually cared for being frightened and the images I'd seen so far hadn't lent to a favorable Frankenstein image. But I did read it and am so glad that I did. I don't wish to give away any spoilers, but it really isn't at all the story that most think it is and I enjoyed it... actually cared for the characters in the story... both Frankenstein and the monster... oops...small spoiler there... Regardless I didn't feel quite as much guilt six years later about referring to my poor defenseless infant as a horrible monster figure anymore.

It's a good thing Miles has a great sense of humor... He actually thinks Frank is a cool name... His Primary teachers' name is Frank and he thinks that's so cool. He's really not so 'Franklike' anymore though. The ever smiling Miles.

Bells Perks

Hooray.. my paralysis is NOT here to stay! It has slowly begun to clear up. It leaves a lot slower than it came on but after ten days I began to see improvements. Today, although I still have a tender face, the smile is almost normal and my eye is finally closing all the way by itself. The muscles that haven't been used and the ones that were overcompensating are glad to be trying to readjust to the old normal way of working. My eye only tears up now when it's late and I should head to bed... although it's a new 'late' now... no more 2am's for me... now it's 10:30... I feel old!

I've learned a lot about my bodies needs, the way the muscles in the face work, the way appearances affect how you are treated, about first impressions, about the humor of my children, the sensitivity of my husband, and an appreciation for things I had heretofore taken for granted.

Each morning with my frozen in place face my kids would come in to my room and the first thing they would say was.."smile Mummy"... no longer did I get "Good mornings" or "What are we doing today?". Instead they wanted to know if I had my face back yet. On more than one occasion Miles felt that if I didn't have my face back I should just stay in bed and get more rest... you know eat in bed... So for many mornings Miles brought me some lumpy oatmeal in bed. I don't think I've been treated so well on my birthday or mothers' day. (crazy face has some perks!)

Sarah, ever the optimist, would tell me each day that she was sure she saw improvement... Duncan would just giggle and then give me his best impression of a Bells smile! I couldn't wait to look in the mirror to assess my paralysis state myself. But all of the children knew that I had to rest and relax if this was to go away and I have the best kids anywhere... They wanted to know what else they could do to help me relax... and "do you want to take a nap mummy?" (I can't think of when I've taken a nap), but I did a few times over the last few weeks..

Without the ability to taste food I 'almost' lost the desire to eat... now that the taste buds are back... I WANT TO EAT! But, whilst the taste buds were on holiday I wasn't much of a food prep kinda mum... the kids and Patrick were pointing it out more than periodically that 'they can still taste food... if I make it!' It just wasn't much fun to prepare fajitas and apple cobbler and lick your fingers out of habit because you want a little pre-dinner taste only to not have any taste reaction in your mouth...

The bells was effectively a mask... what others saw... but of course I hadn't changed ... I would still try to smile at a toddler or make a funny face to try to make someone stop being grumpy... and of course all these attempts came out the same since as soon as I would try, I could tell my face hadn't done what I was attempting... I missed the ability to just use facial expressions to show understanding at the grocery store when a lady was struggling with her children, to thank someone driving for letting me in the lane and so many more times I realized how often I use my face to convey a message.

I learned lessons about so many things from this experience. Listen to your body! When you are run down, don't push even further. Sleep is a good thing!... and actually you get more done by going to bed and getting rested than staying up and pushing when you are tired! I gained an appreciation of knowing that this was temporary for me... but not for some people and how both physically and emotionally exhausting having my face frozen for two weeks was for me... I can only imagine someones struggle with lifelong issues. Optimism... SO IMPORTANT... no point fretting over something... it will pass when it will pass and I will be fine.

First impressions... I think although I've always known this, I've really gained a deeper desire to always give a second chance and always look past appearances. I had to meet many city officials and go to a stake level primary presidency training with people I'd never met before. I was extremely self conscious eating the light dinner at the training meeting since eating isn't something I could do very daintily.

Although very uncharacteristic of me... Bells also happened during a very hectic two week period of life that didn't give me much time to shop, cook or prepare meals even if I had felt like it so.. when we didn't have a supper at 7:30 for the third night in a row.... Patrick started to take over... We had pizza, burgers, and taco bell. Although it adds up money wise it sure was a help during chaos not to cook... so much so that I even took the kids one evening to Subway. Now when we traveled to Texas this summer we ate at Subway a fair bit and we learned not to step up to the counter until we knew what we wanted so we didn't frustrate the people behind us or the servers. (Rule was, no changing your mind once we step up to the counter!) We'd had some frustrating moments with impatient servers and impatient customers wiating behind us... and although I thought both rude to be so impatient when the five of us were doing our best to place our orders, I also didn't see the need to aggravate them any further. So when we visited this subway with my crazy bells face, I knew I didn't want to be annoying. But I have to tell you I've never had such AMAZING Subway service... the server was willing to list the options clearly and wait while the kids placed their orders also... I had to repeat a few things since my speech was slurred a bit. He was so nice to me... and I'm sure my odd face had nothing to do with it... but it was a relief not to have him give the... 'don't you know what you're doing lady look'. As we left, we held the door open for a family coming in... A dad and his three girls... who were helping their blind father maneuver his way through the tables. Maybe I just went to the Subway that was used to assisting those with disabilities or maybe they come here for the same thoughtful service that I enjoyed... either way.. I enjoyed the ordering process that I'd come to dread for the first time.

While I certainly don't wish to have Bells again or wish it upon anyone... I was able to gain appreciation and understanding. I was able to learn from a trial... and hopefully, if that was the point to this little trial, I'll pass. (of course if that means moving on to more challenging trials then I'm sure I could learn more from the last one again instead!)

By the way... it's not a great diet... even though I couldn't taste food for just over 2 weeks... I didn't manage to lose any weight. I did eat some things that I know are good for me that I don't like though... why not... it all tasted the same!