Trick or Treat

Can't wait to see this little trick or treater!

He'll be by today to scare me!!

Happy Halloween!

A Week Well Spent

Jake took off with his parents on vacation, so I thought I'd take a little vacation myself. You know, do nothing but lay around, read the papers, goof off, do nothing...

After a day, I decided maybe a little housecleaning would be in order. Not too much. I certainly don't want to tax myself and ruin my little vacation!

But, oh my word! When I got to those closets it was a nightmare!! Everything looked so old, dark and just plain disgusting! So I plunged in. Took everything out of the shelves, off the hangers, threw things into bags, washed old, reorganized and WOW!!!

Look what I pulled together! Without even leaving my house! Without going shopping or anything! What a lovely feeling. Now I can go back and read and watch all the soaps I want! Have fun on your trip Jake, I'm having fun too!!!

We are a Blessed People, The end

We can never be gone on the 4th of July, because we would miss the Jorgensen Breakfast. Dave and Laurel open their home to the neighborhood for this great event. They have a flag-raising and flute playing early. I always get there a little late, walking down the street and hearing the flute. Jim is already there as he has been a cook for most of the years we have enjoyed the breakfast. What a marvelous thing to bring neighbors and friends and many of the kids who have married and have their own children together. It is a gathering and a reminder of the blessings we have from living here. Laurel's flute playing has been a huge part in many of our choir performances. The beauty and peace she brings to us when she plays is magic. I think Dave and Laurel's square in the quilt should be an American Flag, because they always bring to mind our great heritage.

Ken, Jim and I have an ongoing struggle to see who will sit on the back row of the chapel. Of course everyone knows that Jim owns the corner of that pew and as his wife I should sit next to him. But sometimes Ken sneaks out of Sunday School early so he can take Jim's seat! The nerve, He also walks his leash with no dog attached! (the dog is so small you can't see it) What are we going to do with Ken? I think Barbara helps in her way, because she is always gracious and because she is the Relief Society President she knows where we are all suppose to sit, and she knows you should walk a dog at the end of the leash, so hopefully she can impart that wisdom to Ken. She is always there for everyone with extra intuition if someone is having a troubled time. What would we do without these lovely people who care, who we can joke with, who we can love and who love us despite our peculiarities?

There are a few people who have had the nerve to try and take their squares and move out of our neighborhood. Of course whether they move or not they can't have their squares, because they are a part of our lives and so, a part of the quilt. Naming these people might not seem nice, because sometimes it is hard to forgive them, but we do. Kola left a huge hole in the quilt when she took her beauty shop to St. George, although Pearl took over and our hair just keeps on getting better, although I think Pearl has to use a lot more coloring products than Kola ever did.

Not so long ago Kola and Aubry came to church for a visit. It was like the big scene from the play "Hello Dolly" when she comes down the stairs and the old timers rush to greet and the new people wonder who this star could be? Well Kola swept in just as Dolly would have, and her laugh and hugs made us all feel happy. Aubrey just visits quietly with us. He says this is what happens everywhere he goes.

I haven't mentioned much about the men. I guess we women tend to speak out and so are a more prominent part of the story. But the men of the neighborhood are there. Quietly (because they can't get a word in), helping people move , fixing sprinklers, giving blessings and helping with ward parties. Cleaning the church, shoveling the snow and picking up the pieces of their wives (who after raising the children and serving in Young Women's are falling apart just a bit). They are now the heroes our children look up to. The Bishop's we have enjoyed held the ward together with their leadership. The best calling they have made collectively was keeping Pat in charge of the music. What a joy for us who sing to be a part of this beautiful choir. We sing because we love music, we love Pat, we love each other and we love the Lord, who has given us this unique place to be all at the same time. The choir square needs to be in the middle, because music brings us all together. We express our love through music and sometimes that is how we express it to one another and to all our neighbors. There have been so many fun times and so many sad times, so many difficult times, but always we pull together. Sometimes we don't need the quilt, because for a time our lives stay relatively calm. But sometimes we need the quilt to wrap around us all and keep us safe and secure from the hard storms that hit us. As I have carefully stitched this quilt together in my mind it has helped me to recover both spiritually and physically. As each square in the quilt touches me I can learn to follow after each of you and live as it states in the 13th Article of Faith:
"We believe all things, we hope all things,
we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things.
If there is anything virtuous, lovely,
or of good report or praiseworthy we seek after these things."

These friends and neighbors have been an example to me of these principals. The quilt we stitch together is timeless with many more squares and stitches to be added. How wonderful for us that we can stitch the pieces of our lives together.

This year we have the great opportunity of celebrating Christmas on Sunday. How perfect to take an hour on that special day to come together and sing praises to our Heavenly Father and His Son. Whether listening or singing, our hearts will be full, because we have been blessed with the miracle of living together and growing, learning, teaching, appreciating and always loving one another. The quilt will be especially warm that day as it is thrown out in all its beauty, and gently settles around each one of us.

(written six years ago)

We are a Blessed People, cont.

Whenever I get down, I just look across the street at Kent and Betty's house. Never have I seen two people try so hard to do what's right. To be faithful and compassionate, who are so Christ-like. I almost feel ashamed, because I can't keep going like they do. When we moved into our home, I think Kent and Betty were the first to visit and welcome us. We found out that our lives had kind of paralleled each others. Jim and Kent had been in the same army unit. I had been in the Mormon Youth Chorus with Kent and Betty. We lived in Logan across the street at the same time. Betty and I toured Europe the same summer. But we never met until they came to greet us. They had a beautiful nine month old boy, just Abby's age, he had blond, almost white hair and startlingly blue eyes. Kent and Betty had gone out into the world and rounded up their kids until Adam came along to complete their family. Kent was the Bishop for awhile and every child in the Ward loved him and Betty was always there supporting. Betty and I have sung beside each other in the choir forever. Mostly for my sake because Betty has perfect pitch and I just follow along, kind of like life. She rises to any occasion and smiles and gets things done, and I try to follow along. But because I don't have perfect ptich, Heavenly Father has placed Betty, with her perfect pitch (not just in music) right across the street from me. Isn't that just the greatest thing in the world, that I got to live right across the street from people who have blessed my life, just from watching their example?

One afternoon, it was snowing, I saw Nathan and Alisha drop off their sweet little girls for Betty to tend. They borrowed her car for a drive to Ogden. At 5:00 pm I was listening to the news just as Bishop Stout rang our doorbell to tell us that Nate and Alisha had been killed in a car accident. The world stopped. How could that fun-loving boy and his beautiful wife be gone from this earth? I ran over to Betty's to hug her and cry with her. I know that Kent and Betty's hearts were breaking. What can you do for someone with a broken heart? I guess the only thing we have to offer is our love and support. Kent and Betty are guardians of Nate and Alisha's two little girls. Again, they are raising two children who have just come to them, and again they put on a happy face and walk on together facing what has been put in their path. What faith, what love, they are so full of these gifts. I will never forget Nathan's dropping by our house with that great smile of his. I love their family. They should have patches randomly spaced throughout the quilt touching other's patches as they have touched all of our lives.

We are a Blessed People, cont.

Teri and I have probably walked hundreds of miles together. If you walk for exercise for thirty years it has to be many miles. Of course in those walks we have solved many problems and many still remain unsolved. We probably have gained a pound or two around the middle during all that walking which seems strange, and yet I think our jaws are thinner, because of all the talking! I would like to state right here for the record that we do not gossip on these walks. We solve world problems and mysteries and strange goings on in the nieghborhood. Never gossiping only trying to solve problems and in some helpful way figure out why people are so strange. We come up with lots of answers, but of course not much changes, and so I sometimes wonder, what was all that walking for??? If we don't loose weight and don't solve the problems our neighbors are having or our own problems and our jaws are tired from all the talking and our heads ache from all the thinking, what does it all mean??? Maybe Teri and I have our own patch in the quilt, it has two women walking and laughing and the stitches are very uneven and sometimes wonder on to another patch. But maybe that patch with all it's stitches kept us a little sane as we raised nine children and two husbands between the two of us.

When I was a younger mom I decorated my house for each holiday - even St. Patrick's day took a day of my time to make everything green. But Fall and Christmas took days. Of course my friends were all engaged in these same activities, making our homes look festive for the season. One year when my son was about twelve, I had just finished a masterpiece on my mantel for fall. I called Pat right over to admire my handy work and admire we did. Nick joked as Pat came in, "You have to see my mom's Tribute to Fall". Ever since any decoration for a season has become known as "Tribute" to Christmas, fall whatever season. Well, this particular fall season I am in bed with one of my many illnesses and I just don't have it in me to get "Tribute to Fall" out. I had a phone call from Sue, the most concerned of neighbors. Her first sentence was "Paula, I hear you might not get your tribute up!" It almost sounded like our country was being invaded or some such disaster. She was that upset. I found out that if I was not well by the first week of October that Sue, Colleen and Pat would be over here making sure my tribute was up in all its glory, because it can't not happen one year.

It seems a small and very unimportant thing when you look at the state of the world. Iraq, hurricanes. But what if all neighborhoods were like mine, where people were so concerned that they would come and put some fall leaves up just to see you smile? Somehow, when I look at it that way it seems as big as world events. It seems more important. Friends loving friends, looking after each other. We are all so different yet because of love we are the same. There has to be a patch in the quilt with different colors of thread going around it, but these stitches will all be perfect.

We are a Blessed People cont.

There are many others that complete this story that you will meet, but not yet. Their stories are interwoven with ours, like a huge patchwork quilt. Each has a very important square and I am trying to stitch them all together. When it is finished it will be a thing of great beauty. Each square in the quilt is different. Some make you laugh, some make you cry, some are just squares that connect the others. I am the quilter (with much help from my friends) trying to stitch together the squares and make some sense of it all. Seeing what kind of creation comes from all the different squares and yet that is the beauty. It won't be perfect, it may have mistakes, its may not match in some places. It will be as it is when finished. But one thing for certain..it will be a masterpiece, a thing of great beauty, because it will be made as our lives are made. And this story is about those lives and so it is a masterpiece. Because these normal lives woven together make up the most magically beautiful creation ever made.

There are so many things that we just can't figure - so I guess they'll just go unfigured. We tried so hard to raise our children to be responsible good human beings, we disciplined and worried and watched over, trying to make sure they were in the right places, doing school work, etc. Taking them to church which is such a big part of our lives. My children played a game "the movie of our life" where they try and cast a speaker in church or in the neighborhood with a movie star that best fits their looks and personality. Jim and I sit very properly listening to the speaker while the children cast different folks as Meryl Streep or Tom Hanks. Jim has been cast as a smaller Tom Selleck and I always want to be Sally Field (even though I really never get involved in their silly game). I am sure they hear every word spoken from the pulpit and learn much from it. I hope I play the part of Sally Field as well as Sally was in the movie Forrest Gump, because she gave such great advice and was so calm and kind.

Then there was the time that my friend Carol (Carol has six kids, five girls and one boy) was parked at a craft store. Her children are very small in size, but normal in age. She left the twelve year old in charge of the the others while she ran in for just a minute. One of the smaller children put the car in drive and drove throught the window of the store. Of course Carol was horrified. The police came and were sighting her for neglect. She put her hands out and said "take me, maybe I can get a night's peace in jail" but again our neighbors pulled together, signed petitions and told the police that Carol was a wonderful parent and spared her her night in jail. she never forgave us. Carol and her group are a huge square in our quilt. A few years later her sweet husband Rick got cancer. Those delinquent children of theirs sat with him, bathed him, fed him, sang and told stories to him. They wouldn't leave his side. Carol herself said she was honored, because she felt she had been given the opportunity to care for an angel. I watched as sweet neighbors planted flowers for Carol in her yard that summer. She didn't ask, people just showed up and bought and planted flowers for her, meals were brought in, people cared. On Memorial Day the word got out that Rick was not going to last more than a few hours. We hurried down to visit and tell Rick we loved him. The next morning he woke up and said "now what am I going to do? We put on such a good show and now I'm still here"! Rick died about a month later with family and friends around him. Those kids who drove through the craft store window were there caring and supportive of their mom. How sad and yet what a perfect moment out of time to share with people we have lived with and loved. This family has a beautiful square in the quilt, full of love, finely stitched, perfect in every way. (To be realistic, maybe a stitch or two is a little crooked, but they wouldn't be real if it was totally perfect). Carol has spent time laying on my living room couch just chatting about every day stuff, but always leaves me with some perfect piece of wisdom that makes me think all day about putting things in perspective. She is wise. I teach her youngest and only son in Sunday School. He's a character, but at twelve, having lost his dad, he is also very wise. Rick and Carol should be proud of what they created.

Jake's Birthday

Interrupting the story "We are a Blessed People" to wish Jake a Happy 2nd Birthday!!!

We had a fun birthday party at his house where Uncle Fun cooked homemade from scratch, delicious pizza and Aunt Whitney made pumpkin, cream cheese cupcakes! Time flies, can't believe he's two!!! Happy Birthday!

We are a Blessed People, cont.

When the neighborhood was young there were babies born, kids played football and baseball or whatever sport was in season. They took dancing and piano. They played kick the can on summer nights. It was fun to sit out on my porch on those warm summer evenings and hear someone yell "over the can on..." then hear screaming and laughing. They were involved in scouts with campouts.

One winter scout camp Tyler had to take his small screen TV to watch the Jazz. He spent $50.00 on batteries, but it was the only way we could get him to go. Involvement in little league, school sports, three-wheeling around the open spaces were common back then. They had fun growing up. with only an occasional outburst that was quickly forgotten. I must go back and introduce the players in this drama of life because each one has a story of their own, and while creating their own story they have touched and been a part of mine.

Pat is our music lady. She plays the piano as if the instrument was an extension of her body. She accompanies everyone, plays in church, plays for the choir. She has kept music alive from the beginning. Never has there been a word about music without Pat being part of it. The two words become one. For some reason a bunch of really good musicians or would be musicians happened to settle beneath this mountain. We found one another and because of Pat we have been singing together for 30 years. Sometimes not perfectly, though at times there have been angels singing with us it was that good! Our Christmas program is always the best (The angels come every year). but there have been other visits. We have also had some really sad times here, but the music was always perfect for the occasion. Because of Pat, our music has become one voice and so always appropriate and enjoyed by all. Pat has five children - each with their own struggles and accomplishments. She has lived through those struggles and triumphs by acting as we all do - either burying herself in bed for a few days to get strength or being on the front row applauding. But whatever happens she doesn't give up, maybe, almost, sometimes, but not ever giving in completely. She will play for us as long as her fingers move.

Teri is my soul sister, golf partner, walking partner and more. We moved here the same month and have felt that we were sisters in heaven, before we came here and became earthly friends. There is nothing to describe Teri other than the word "class". Her home should be a movie set in the nicest possible way - not big and glamorous, but if the set called for the perfect home done with impeccable taste, but looking like a real home, that would be hers. She sees a vision and Dale builds it to perfection. You want to live there and when you go over you are welcomed as if you do.

We are a Blessed People

(A story written a few years ago while I was sick in bed)

I am sick in bed, where I am most of the time now days...I have spent the last five years having illnesses that were just enough to be bad, but not quite bad enough to kill me. Almost like I'm being teased. If I'm going to die, then let the big one come, but if it isn't then let all these illnesses just go away so I can continue to live a normal productive life. When I say normal and productive I mean just living without the word doctor in my vocabulary and being able to enjoy the small things that give me joy. You see, I live in a very wonderful, beautiful normal, yet peculiar neighborhood.

We are protected by a huge mountain almost on top of our heads which is beautiful in whatever season we happen to be in........I was just interrupted from my writing by a neighbor who brought me soup, because I am sick. The thing that makes this so incredible is that my friend that made the soup has cancer. But of course, here in our neighborhood a little thing like cancer doesn't stop you from making soup for your friend.

To make the reader understand what this story is about I have to go back a few years, like about 30 years. A group of young people from different walks of life someway or another ended up in this corner of a valley, in a neighborhood on a hill below a beautiful mountain called Lone Peak. We were all pretty young. Just getting started in our first homes, excited to put yards in and have families, which is exactly what we did.

We worked on yards, furnished our homes and had lots of children. We didn't think our lives would be anything but perfect. I don't know whether we were prepared or not for what lay ahead, maybe we grew into our preparedness together. As I see it we still don't know a whole lot, but we know more than we did back then, we continue to not get what's going on, but we continue to live through our lives, learning and growing with each other. Before I introduce these people who are such a part of my life, I have to say that without them there would be no story, for we have lived, laughed and cried through every day stuff. Tragedies and even a little mystery and intrigue which we solved, not by gossiping over the fence, but by doing real honest to goodness detective work, over the fence. This is a much higher form of information-gathering than gossip, if it is in the form of of trying to solve a mystery, like, "Who chopped the Foppler's bonsai tree down?" (My children were out of the state and therefore not a part of this fiasco, although had they been here would have been front and center). But, you know, sometimes mean neighbors deserve to get their bonsai's whacked, and that's what happened.

It took our fledgling detective agency awhile, but we did figure out who did it. We had to be properly sorry, but we were glad when those neighbors moved away. They didn't fit - they yelled at the kids and didn't welcome our friendliness, and so off they went. Several years later a lovely family named the Caldwell's moved in. They love our kids and we love theirs, they plant normal bushes and have become a part of our neighborhood as though they have always lived here.

Follow your Dream

Jim and I spent a lovely weekend at the beautiful Homestead in Midway. I became a bit nostalgic as I remembered times we spent there with family when our kids were little. They ran on those lawns with their cousins while mom and dad watched and enjoyed their growing family.

On our way home we took the scenic route, driving through all kinds of back roads and canyons. Such beautiful country we live so close to. And such a gorgeous time of year!!

We ended up at the Jeremy Ranch. Couldn't believe how much it has grown since those old day of the "Shootout". A huge community with school, church, many beautiful homes. A lovely place to live.

I am so proud of Dad for having a vision, working hard and following a dream. If he hadn't had that dream of the golf course in that beautiful spot with homes and people living there, this very lovely spot just might not be there. Dad always had dreams and the persistence to see them through. What a great legacy he left his posterity.

Taking steps

If the shoe fits...wear it!
If the dream fits...step into it!
-Pam Farrel

Small steps taken
consistently add up in
a big way over time.
-Danna Demetre

I have done a lot of changing in the past few years and as I take each new step I am learning and growing in confidence. I watch as my daughters are "stepping out" and accomplishing great things. It is so fun to watch Abby as she puts fabric together and quilts, she has so many talents and is not afraid to try something new! Whitney is becoming more graceful each day as she learns more about yoga and teaches it at the University. They are both so creative as cooks and homemakers. They continue to take "steps" to improve themselves. What a joy to watch!

I love my children!

I just returned from a viewing. A friend in our neighborhood's son. As I hugged her and told her how sorry I was, she whispered in my ear, "Paula, go home and tell your children how much you love them." She was overcome by grief. This is the second child she has lost to a car accident. I can't imagine the pain she must be going through. I think my kids know how much I love them, how proud I am of them, but if they don't I am taking this opportunity to tell them and anyone else who looks at this blog that they are loved. In conference Elder Bednar said it upset him when people said from the pulpit that they didn't say "I love you" often and wanted to take the opportunity to tell their loved ones how much they loved them. He said we should be saying and showing our love constantly.(sorry Elder Bednar, that I am blogging my love to the worldwide web). When kids are little it is easier, because we can just scoop them up in our arms and with hugs and kisses proclaim our love. I think I tell little Jake 20 times a day that I love him and he returns the love! But when kids grow and are out of the home it is harder to show and share that love we feel. So I am going to make amends and show more often the love I feel for the businessman, husband, Father of 4, the salesman, sports fanatic and new husband, the busy working gal, quilter, mother and wife, the professor and writer, and the beautiful yoga instructor and wife. You are the light of my life. I love you!!!!! (I love your spouses too)

Nice Visit

Nick came home to visit this past weekend. It's been nice having him home. He got to see all the family. We got to hear stories of his teaching adventures at the airforce academy! And of course, with him telling the stories, they truly are adventures!

But, all good things come to an end, and he flies back today. He's got to keep those cadets in order! See you at Christmas!

The America my dad loved

I listen to a lot of what is going on now days. A lot of people think a lot of different things about the country and how it should be run. How things should be. Maybe it should be this way, maybe that way. I like history and so I always turn to the founding fathers, and continue to rely on their wisdom.
Last night I was going through some old pictures and letters and found three letters from my dad to my Grama Lundgren during WWII. So sweet. Telling how he felt about June. It made me think alot about what the United States meant to him.
I've had this article by Elie Wiesel for a long time, because I thought it was so excellent. Thought I'd share bits and pieces of it.

He says,"Even now, as America is in the midst of puzzling uncertainty, these words reflect my personal belief. For I cannot forget another day that remains alive in my memory: April 11, 1945. That day I encountered the first American soldiers in the Buchenwald concentration camp. I remember them well. Bewildered, disbelieving, they walked around the place, hell on earth, where our destiny had been played out. They looked at us, just liberated, and did not know what to do or say. Survivors snatched from the dark throes of death, we were empty of all hope - too weak, too emaciated to hug them or even speak to them. Like lost children, the American soldiers wept and wept with rage and sadness. And we received their tears as if they were heartrending offerings from a wounded and generous humanity. Ever since that encounter, I cannot repress my emotion before the flag and the uniform."

"Hope is the key word for men and women life myself, who found in America the stength to overcome cynicism and despair."

Dad was on the other side of the world fighting a different kind of war. He was born an American citizen, and always loved this country and the ideals this great nation stood for all the days of his life. He gave up years of his life as a young man to fight in WWII. He was lonely, bored, sick and tired and he wanted to get home and get on with his life. But he knew what he was doing was life altering for that family that he wanted to have when the war was over, and for generations to come. I am grateful to him for his sacrifice and for instilling in me the love I have for this beautiful nation and all that it gives to me. May we never forget the sacrifice of these great men and women and what it was for.