Usually by 5:00 a.m. every morning...I have an idea of something I want to write on my blog. Lately I've been feeling so
uninspired.
Maybe I have an evil keyboard. That's it....
eeeviiilllll keyboard.
I think a great cure for the "block" is a trip down memory lane.
Lately I've been dreaming about the outskirts of Yakima, Washington and a little 900 square foot, 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom house (that housed 5-8 people at any given time)on seven acres.
I see the darkest, deepest, richest soil being tilled from the back of a red tractor.
I can still see the Native American pictographs on the lava rock down the road.
I remember a garden, so large that it was bigger than most entire city lots...with the tallest sunflowers you've EVER seen. People driving by would actually pull over and gawk. Shucking corn, eating more peas than actually getting them in the bowl. Fresh tomato sandwiches on warm homemade whole wheat buns.
I've never nor will I ever eat as many apples or apple baked goodies as I did there. It felt like it was always apple season in Washington. As a kid, I appreciated the week of school we got off in the fall so kids could harvest apples. I still melt over a good green apple.
I remember Mom pulling leaches off of Tonia's leg after swimming in
Ashbaugh park.
I remember the big high school girls who used to spit on us or smack us middle
schoolers around on the bus if we sat in the back.
I've thought a lot about the cherry tree that I would spend hours hiding in and eating so many cherries that my fingers and lips were stained.
I keep thinking about the coal crates stacked by the creek...where you could make the most awesome forts.
I'll never forget the rooster that jumped on my back one time as I was coming from the barn....or the hen that was killed by the wayward arrow.
I wince when I think about the chicken wire bouncing up from the barn floor and piercing my eye....and the lovely patch I wore afterwards.
I've never seen since a larger, uglier, meaner pig than Sheba and the fate she deserved.
I don't know anyone who has
reenacted Star Wars while bouncing on inner tubes more than me and my sisters and friends.
I don't know if I'll ever forget the croquet ball hitting me square between the eyes and the swelling that caused me to not look like myself for the last week of 8
th grade.
I still smile when I think of Mike's
camero and the thundering sound of riding in the back seat. He had a screwdriver for a shifter...so rad.
I thought my life was over on May 18, 1990 when the ash began to fall from Mt. St.
Helens shortly after we were evacuated from church. Such a surreal experience for an almost 10 year old.
I see my Mom standing over a tiny hot stove in a pioneer era looking kitchen, canning and freezing food for months on end. She also had a mirror hung up on the wall so she could get ready every day. There was no outlet in the bathroom.
I lovingly remember Mom recording a record of KC and the Sunshine Band onto a tape for me to play on my new (used from a garage sale from Mike) tape player.
I loved the mystery of the
Staudinger family, who built and occupied the antique little house we lived in until their deaths. They were Germans who had migrated to America during the early part of the 1900's. We inherited their old furniture and treasures that were left behind. I never knew what became of their handicapped adult son, who was unable to take care of himself when his parents died. I'll never forget the story of how he brought his father back to the house in the old metal
wheelbarrow when he passed away at the back of the property. My Mom still has the
wheelbarrow. I have the buffet from the dining room.
I knew there were hazards living there. Like the time the log rolled out of the fireplace and caught the carpet on fire. We had no heating in the house or
wood stove. It was necessary to keep fires going all night. Sometimes we used coal. I can still remember the smell and heat from a coal burning fire.
I remember how it was a big deal to be first to take a bath. There was no shower in the bathroom and only enough hot water in a day for one bath. If you were first, you got the hot, clean water...
We had more pets than we needed. There was Susie...the
German cat we inherited with the house...who was gone for months at a time and then would mysteriously reappear. There was
Shazaam...the doberman
pincher who we ended up giving back because he was psycho. There was Sam, the mutt who had been run over by a car and shook it off. There was Josie, the momma dog who would lure her babies to the train tracks over the creek and watch as they fell to their deaths in the water below...maybe she had depression! There was the collie we thought had run away, only to find him several days later locked in an unused garage. The stubborn Appalachian, Lady...who dumped me more than once.
I'll never forget the endless places for adventures. The creek which would swell and rise to a raging river every spring. The creepy cellar. The food storage room in a barn, the tack shop with it's pot belly stove. The pear tree that produced the largest pears in the world....no, really. The swing set made of power polls, so high that it would take you 20 minutes of pumping just to get momentum for your swing more than 5 feet off the ground. The old gas pump that provided hours of make-believe.
I'll never forget my homemade church dresses, that always matched my sisters. And the green shirt Mom sewed for me that I wore on my first day to 7
th grade.
I'm sure Mom will never forget the hours she drove me to dance lessons almost everyday and the endless recitals and performances.
I still love to see glass prisms in windows. Mom had several in the window of the living room. In the morning you could go in there and see thousands of rainbows...so magical.
Lily's of the Valley, grapes, old wooden
Adirondack furniture in the yard. Mowing with a push mower...non powered. Learning to drive by driving the old green truck around and around the property loop. Mom spray painting the wood paneling on an old station wagon. Homemade Christmas candles covered in glitter that never would stay lit. Fighting over the silverware as we set the table every night. Laundry hanging on clothes lines. A gigantic walnut tree loaded with deadly falling balls every autumn but the best tree in the world to climb. Finding dozens of chicken eggs everywhere you looked. Homemade bread everyday and Christmas chocolates during the holidays. Seeing real poverty for the first time when I went to a friend's house...she lived in a one room shack made of boards that you could see the sky through while sitting on the couch she slept on for a bed. Attending a rural farm/immigrant school...in
Naches. My first crush. My first bra. My first time wearing make-up.
I could never forget this place that made such an impact on my life. It was the home I lived the longest in until I was married...3 years. I can't imagine my kids could ever relate to that life.
There....writer's block is cured, by a trip down Memory Lane.
I need to take more of these trips. They are free. And best of all, I can revisit whenever I like.
When I watch my girl on stage I'm speechless. I don't know that I've ever had as much charisma in my pinkie as she has. She is so comfortable and secure up there.
The next night was the unmentionable flood...
The following day and night was spent at the Music Hall for Bridger's dance recital...Frankly, I don't know what's cooler...watching your daughter dance on the gigantic stage or hanging out backstage in the labyrinth of tunnels and halls where you go to see Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables and Wicked. It's a fabuloso venue.
Then to top it off, my oldest child became an adult. It was unspectacular and a colossal disappointment for her, I'm sure. But with so much going on and graduation only two days away, what do you do? I offered to turn over all her bills to her and let her pay them from now on but she declined.
Now,
Another honor is to earn the Stake President's Award. Four kids from our ward earned this big deal too. 
Here are the requirements: 
Lori and Tom brought balloons for the youth to release in Megan's memory. 
We sent pink hugs and kisses to her and as far as I believe...they were well received.
