better late than never

So, I've been typing the bedroom the last 3 1/2 days instead of working in the office which is right off the living room. Why, you may ask? Well, to avoid interruptions, kids and dogs that can push the door open, TV, Internet, etc. Anyway, I've been sitting on the floor with a lap desk, working away, thinking to myself, "This just doesn't seem right, I need small desk or something so I sit on the couch. What did I use last time I was working back here?" Today, as I sat on the floor ready to work and shift and fidget again for hours of uncomfortable typing while sitting on the floor, I looked across the room, and the lights came on, or maybe I should say someone finally came home. Literally right across the room from me is my piano bench. It's probably been sitting there the last few days smugly laughing at me every time I fidget or adjust my position, wondering how long it would be before I figured things out. Better late than never, but that piano bench could have reminded me a lot sooner. :)

What life is all about...

Lately, I've tried to indulge and bend my mind toward a higher plane or level of thinking. Robert Crawford, in his book Think For Yourself has inspired me to at least attempt thinking which is more than just imitating the thoughts of others. Whether or not I have succeeded remains to be seen, but at least the process of realizing my thoughts has begun.

A few days ago, James quoted, "The more I know, the more I know I don't know." This is true, no less for me than for anyone. I have come to realize, that life is not lived day to day, week to week, month to month, year to year. Rather, life is lived as a series and compilations of moments. Moments comprised of choices. This compilations of the moments we live, as evidenced in the choices we make, create the picture of who we are. These pictures are not set in stone, they can be modified, if once we discover the picture is one we would rather not see. Choices are the key.

I have also been highly influenced by a study of Sterling W. Sill. He speaks of two kinds of temptations. He often got the impression, when people would speak to him of temptation, that it appeared many often hoped to be tempted beyond their ability to withstand. This is either good or bad, depending on the temptations we choose to give in to, for it is a choice. Temptations come in two kinds, good or bad, it is possible to be tempted by good things as well as bad things. The choice is ours as to which we will be more highly swayed by in our decisions. This allows us to agree to be tempted by things which will create a great masterpiece of moment compilations, or, on the flip side, to create a compilation of moments which turns the stomach upon contemplation.

While I was teenager, I learned a song titled Be that Friend. I don't remember all the words now, but the concept came through to me again, after many years. I'm sure we've all, at one time or another, reflected upon the person we want to become. Upon current reflection, the person I want to become still seems a distant possibility, the me that I am is far removed from the me that I want to be. Whose fault is that? Mine, all mine. Unfortunately, I am not able to blame anyone else for my own choices, tempting as that may be at times. It would not change the reality; I create my own compilation of moments.

We are not relegated to remain mediocre, we are not forced to be stalled in our progress. We can choose to be that person we desire to be. It is all a matter of choices, moment to moment, which make the difference in who we are and who we will become.

Simple memories

For some inexplicable reason, an old family standby has just sounded and tasted so good to me lately. It's a food that comes with a lot of memories, macaroni and tomato. Such a simple food. I remember sitting down for lunch at Grandma Sorensen's house. She would slice cheese rather than grate it, and you could break it up in the bowl if you wanted cheese. Nathan would always add so much cheese mom hated washing the pan after he made it. I try to be careful when I add the cheese so it melts just right and doesn't disintegrate because it's too hot. You can change it by adding different meats to it, ham or hamburger are my personal favorite additions. Mom of course, always makes her macaroni milk and cheese when we had it. It doesn't change much, but sometimes, that's a good thing.

Old Farmer's Advice

I got this as an email, but figured it was worth sharing.

Old Farmer's Advice

Old Farmer's Advice:

Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight and bull-strong.

Keep skunks and bankers at a distance.

Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.

A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.

Words that soak into your ears are whispered...not yelled.

Meanness don't jes' happen overnight.

Forgive your enemies; it messes up their heads.

Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you.

It don't take a very big person to carry a grudge.

You cannot unsay a cruel word.

Every path has a few puddles.

When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.

The best sermons are lived, not preached.

Most of the stuff people worry about ain't never gonna happen anyway.

Don't judge folks by their relatives.

Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

Live a good, honorable life.. Then when you get older and think back,

you'll enjoy it a second time.

Don't interfere with somethin' that ain't bothering you none.

Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a Rain dance.

If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin'.

Sometimes you get, and sometimes you get got.

The biggest troublemaker you'll probably ever have to deal with,

watches you from the mirror every mornin'.

Always drink upstream from the herd.

Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from bad judgment.

Lettin' the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin' it back in.

If you get to thinkin' you're a person of some influence,

try orderin' somebody else's dog around..

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply.
Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.
--
Don't pick a fight with an old man.

If he is too old to fight, he'll just kill you.

And,

gotta love it...

This came through my email today, thought I'd share it this way instead. Who knows, I might be activating some curse by doing so, but I'll risk it.

I just want to thank all of you for your educational e-mails over the past year. I am totally screwed up now and have little chance of recovery.

I no longer open a public bathroom doorwithout using a paper towel or have them put lemon slices in my ice water without worrying about the bacteria on the lemon peel.

I can't use the remote in a hotel room,because I don't know what the last person was doing while flipping through the adult movie channels.

I can't sit down on the hotel bedspread,because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed.

I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving, because the number one pastime while driving alone is picking one’s nose (although cell phone usage may be taking the number one spot).



Eating a little snack sends me on a guilt trip, because I can only imagine how many gallons of trans fats I have consumed over the years.



I can't touch any woman's purse, for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public bathroom.

I MUST SEND MY SPECIAL THANKS to whoever sent me the one about poop in the glue on envelopes ,because I now have to use a wet sponge with every envelope that needs sealing.



ALSO, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.



I no longer have any savings, because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.

I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.

I no longer worry about my soul, because I have 363,21420 angels looking out for me, andSt.. Theresa's Novena has granted my every wish.

I no longer eat KFC, because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes, legs or feathers.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants,although I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.

THANKS TO YOU, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an e-mail to twelve of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.

BECAUSE OF YOUR CONCERN, I no longer drink Coca Cola, because i t can remove toilet stains.



I no longer can buy gasoline without taking someone along to watch the car, so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas.



I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr. Pepper, since the people who make these products are atheists, who refuse to put “Under God” on their cans.


I no longer use Saran Wrap in the microwave, because it causes cancer.

AND THANKS FOR LETTING ME KNOW I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore, because it will blow up in my face, disfiguring me for life.

I no longer check the coin return on pay phones or vending machines, because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer go to shopping malls, because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me..

I no longer receive packages from UPS or Fed Ex, since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.

I no longer shop at Target, since they are French and don't support our American troops or the Salvation Army.

I no longer answer the phone, because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica , Uganda , Singapore , and Uzbekistan .

I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus, since I now have their recipe.

THANKS TO YOU, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine, because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my butt.

AND THANKS TO YOUR GREAT ADVICE, I can't ever pick up $5.00 dropped in the parking lot, because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

I can no longer drive my car because I can't buy gas from certain gas companies!

I can't do any gardening because I'm afraid I'll get bitten by the brown recluse and my hand will fall off.

If you don't send th is e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large pelican with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 p.m. tomorrow afternoon and mutant fleas from South America will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur, because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician…….



Oh, by the way.....

A German scientist from Argentina , after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with insufficient brain activity read their e-mail with their hand on the mouse.

Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late.

No Success

Well, last Saturday was the first day of pheasant season here in the pheasant capital of the world. James, Ben, and I headed out into the crisp morning air to partake in the age old battle of man against birds. We had Neo and Frasier to help us with the work. Well, we got nothing... Didn't even see a pheasant in any of the areas we went to. Of course, we saw a couple flying and running out of other fields being worked over by hunters as we drove by. There are so many big groups that get together, that it is hard to compete for good areas.

All I got was sick. Sunday, I couldn't move without my head feeling like it was going to explode. So today, now that it is nice and cold and wet, and they are more likely to fly instead of run, James and Shane (a guy from our ward who lives and breathes bird hunting) get to go, with more of a chance for getting something and I'm stuck at home. Not so happy about that, but life goes on. I'll get my chance one of these days.

This is what I want to see:

It's quite an exciting feeling to have a pheasant come up out of the grass. They are beautiful birds.

Oh yea, and all Neo got was scraped from running into a barbed wire fence. He and Frasier were pretty dead after we got home. As someone I know always likes to remind us (aka, my little mother), "That work's hard when you're not used to it."

Chaos

Sometimes, chaos closes in. Your breathing tightens, your blood seems to pound through your body. You can feel yourself shaking, trembling, wishing for calm, wishing for peace. It doesn't matter how it starts, but it seems to always be there, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Once chaos finds a foothold, it's hard to get rid of. To breathe deeply, to not react, but act with calmness is a must, but sometimes, seems impossible.

When the chaos does pass, it still leaves an unsettled feeling. When will it attempt to strike again? Will it succeed? Can you ever truly get rid of it?

As they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. Chaos can be eliminated, eradicated, but only with a fight. Fight fire with fire, be stronger than the chaos. Smoke it out, you can't continue with it in your system.

Oh, for moments of peace. To recreate a time when the deepest feeling you felt was not chaos, but calm. Remember it, cling to it, hold on for dear life. Life goes on, the moment will pass. "This too shall pass away..."