It’s Autumn Time

Happy Fall to all! As the first day of a new, beautiful season, we shall look back on Summer with contentment as it slowly and gracefully slips away.

The world was indeed green as Summer entered with a few weeks of rain. Wonderful for plants and a bit of cool weather. After seeing my first batch of seniors off into the world, we rejoiced with our children as we celebrated their year of dance with a well-deserved recital. How they have grown and progressed into beautiful, confident dancers!

Our first real week of Summer ended with two glorious days of camping with dear friends where we formed a sort of “Fellowship” along a hiking trail (“What about second breakfasts? Or elevensies?”), chased the camp rats (some variety of chucks), and giggled at Little Sir’s candid comments, my favorite being, “I need a smoke,” as he sat down in front of the fire pit ready with a marshmallow and roasting stick.

After a few days of swimming and fishing, we celebrated this wonderful country of ours with a trip to the family cabin then a trip back home for the traditional parade and family picnic, during which time family members noticed one of us was not as chipper as he usually is. After repeatedly receiving a “fine” while inquiring about his health, they leave it alone, while I wait for said ailing one to let me know what he needs when he needs it. After voluntarily checking himself into the doctor’s, he returns home with us a day later to recuperate, rather quickly I might add, from a non-emergency appendectomy.

In another kind of doctor’s office, one sweetie excitedly began her orthodontic work. While she had a fairly easy procedure, yours truly sat in another chair waiting for a simple re-gluing of an appliance only to discover that said appliance was actually broken. When asked by the assistant how old the thing was, I quickly calculated and chuckled as I related it was as older than my high school diploma. A blank stare and she heads off to the office. The orthodontist comes over and asks me what’s up. He and I both laugh as I tell him they’ve gone to find my file and we imagine them digging through some box in a back room somewhere. It’s successfully retrieved, we get fitted for a new appliance, and both one sweetie and I leave with sore teeth.

A few birthday dinners and lake trips later, der Meister leaves for a week with the scouts while the rest of us journey south to visit family and partake of the local outdoor entertainment. Here in the land of Zion, the girls and I continue our summertime activity: a tour of our local temples. As we wander the grounds together we take photos, admire the flowers, look at the bees, and talk about the individual temples we are visiting: when they were built, which number they were in our state, unique facts about each. These sweet times prepare us for the unique opportunity of attending the dedication of the Oquirrh Mountain Temple together. Personal revelation is alive and well, and can come to you in the temple. What a blessing to have a place where your mind can be clear enough to hear the Lord’s desire for you.

Throughout the Summer, news arrived of new arrivals expected on both sides of our family, as well as for some of our friends. The blessing of babies for many.

Blessings continue as we gather in yet another hospital room for yet another, tinier family member, and watch as two priesthood holders bless a little one for her upcoming surgery and recovery. Said little one, a Bit T relation, has emergency surgery which leaves her one organ short and with a scar as wide as she is. The blessing: she recovered quickly and successfully and with all smiles she proudly shows off her scar.

The girls meet their new school teachers and become excited for the new school year. I successfully, albeit awkwardly, finish a summer tap class in which I became the oldest member (even surpassing the teacher) after our enrollment drops from 10 to 3, and in which I learn that after a certain age and certain events, one’s body does not behave the way it used to no matter how much one wills it. Turns become fewer, movement becomes slower, certain dance steps are not to be performed because, as one fellow dancer said, “I like my teeth.” I learned to appreciate the knowledge of dance teachers who know how to teach adults and adapt the style to them. And my appreciation of teachers who encourage even their adults students (“You’ve got it! You’re doing great!”) continues to increase.

We rejoice in receiving letters and electronic messages from both new and well-seasoned friends as they update us on the events of their lives and continue to make us smile with their lively personalities.

Hiking in the mountains one day, we see red leaves and realize that Autumn is on its way. We wake up one morning to smell that crisp, clean air through the bright blue sky that says Summer has left us and Autumn has arrived. The school bells start ringing, the mountains are brushed with red and gold, and that glorious cool air that reminds you that you’re alive rushes through you.

“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun,
. . .
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too —
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue . . .”
from “To Autumn” by John Keats

Happy Equinox to all.

 

The Joys and Lessons of Patience

 We have reached the age of sibling squabbles. Mature interested parties who have already made great investments into their posterity, as well as those parties who took part in such squabbles, will remember this age of “I am right” accompanied by creative tones of voice and actions that demonstrate little patience and toleration for each other. With occasional moments of shock (“They’re already that big?”) along with humble gratitude and amazement for the blessing of parenthood as we watch our children grow up, we parents of these beautiful children occasionally have to tackle this new stage with various degrees of hit or miss. Luckily, I know the love they have for each other as this is also demonstrated in various ways which is sweet and encouraging to see. As I watch my children, I am often reminded of my own days growing up with my cousins and our many adventurous bonding experiences together throughout the years. One story from Aunt Patience comes to mind.

Aunt Patience is a fine woman from whom came many lessons. Her children and I were lucky enough to grow up together, and, as children will do, we often had our typical childish fights— who had the best treat, who got the special seat in the car, and, basically, who had the best and most of anything. As their almost daily playtime companion, I was used to these odd and, yes, silly squabbles and I admit to taking part in my share of them. As silly as many of these squabbles were, they were serious to at least one involved party at the time, and I was not always surprised by what would set someone off. Aunt Patience would try to make us see logic, but as children, logic is different for us than it is for adults, and we simply didn’t understand why adults couldn’t see the importance of our argument and the fact that we were right. Faced with us stubborn children (we all shared the same genes, after all), Aunt Patience did her best to referee, squelch, or simply ride out each fight to the end, smoothing any hurt feelings or egos as necessary.

When I was older, Aunt Patience told me of an experience that she knew I could relate to that happened when she and her children were giving a friend a ride home one day. Not being used to their rivalries, their friend was at a loss as to how to react when she uncomfortably found herself between the siblings when their fight started. Each was complaining that the other one was hogging all of the room in the back seat, and each argued that they had less room on their side of the car than the other. They discussed measurements using the universal and indisputable method of child measurement: they would measure their space with one hand against the door and the other against their leg, then carefully, so as not to disturb the measurement, they would hold up their hands to show each other exactly how much space was between those two hands. Every millimeter counted. (Admit it, you did this, too!) This would prove that the other sibling had far more space available on their side of the car, and should move over so other people could be more comfortable. Meanwhile, their friend simply sat between them in quiet surprise. They may or may not have been fighting for her right to space (it’s perfectly logical to justify your indignation when you claim to be fighting for someone else: “She needs more space! You’re hogging!”). Aunt Patience admirably kept her hands on the wheel and her eyes on the road while trying to convince her children that the seats were made equally and they each had the same amount of space. Nonsense. She then watched in amazement as her children proceeded to change places in the back seat, climbing over their friend in the middle, determined to prove to the other that more space was available on their siblings’ side of the car. Declarations such as, “Oh, you have TONS of room over here!” and appropriate roomy wigglings were made before they switched their seats back. I had witnessed, and been part of, incidents like this before and laughed as I could easily picture this incident, and myself part of it either taking sides or trying to be non-judgmental (admit it—as children, one’s attitude depends on the day).

Looking back at my lucky time with Aunt Patience and her children, I realize that I was getting quite an education both in childhood and in parenting. Mothers earn their educational degrees in many fields through daily hands-on learning, luck, imagination, and a unique instruction book pasted together from whatever notes they’ve managed to accrue from the many moms in their lives. Aunt Patience greatly deserves her name, and my great gratitude, for letting us be children and loving us wholeheartedly for it.

We’re often told that we’ll laugh at unpleasant, embarrassing, or awkward incidents at later times in our lives. Admit it, we all have many. While dear Aunt Patience recounted this story, I was wiping away tears of laughter and understanding, reliving wonderful moments of my childhood with the people I loved . . . and hopefully her wonderful now-grown children, who I love dearly and forever hold deep gratitude for, are laughing as well.

 

Aaah, Happy Day

My seniors are cool. I’ve decided to study Bradbury’s fine Fahrenheit 451 with them and my Freshmen simultaneously. Because of various interruptions such as registration for next year and yet another mandatory writing assessment (this time for the state), my Freshmen are only 40 pages into the book, so we should be able to catch up to, maybe even pass, them soon. Because the seniors have more background in topics like World War II, I knew I didn’t have to take them step by step through the history of everyone and everything related to der Fuehrer’s party and ideas. I took der Meister’s suggestion and told them to come up and list everything they knew and associated with Nazis. They had no problem there. Not as much info as I wanted at first, but I guided them to various topics and groups that would lead us to drawing parallels with the Fahrenheit society. We also got into censorship and its different forms. They had fantastic comments and we had a great discussion that took the entire period! It was wonderful! And I told them so. And they seemed genuinely interested in the book! Their mentality and thought processes are definitely above that of a 15-year old, and I am thankful that der Meister can help me come up with questions that I hope will foster that. I am also thinking of creating a setting more like a college class and having them form a circle or half-circle which I can join, hoping that will foster discussion. Because I really hate rows. Our kind fellow teachers (who graciously let us use their classroom) have set their room up for their own success, which is not always cohesive to my own. I noticed that the teacher of the concurrent enrollment English class organizes his desks in a circle for that class only and I liked how it seems to affect the setting and mood of the class. I thought I’d try it with my seniors. Any comments on that from you fine folks out there?

Something else that happened today that was great. And needed after a particularly annoying class of annoying kids. While in the front office, I noticed a note in my box. There is a program at many high schools here called Keys for Success which is sponsored by a local car dealership. Teachers reward their students by giving them a Keys for Success card which allows them to get prizes and enter their name in a drawing for a new car at the end of the school year. Apparently at this time in our school, there is a Keys to Success for teachers where students can nominate a teacher who they find deserving of a fine prize at the end of the year. Imagine my pleasant and humble surprise as I looked in my box and pulled out this slip entitled “Teacher Nomination.” I see the name of one of my fine and wonderful, intelligent, giggly, sweet senior ladies. Under the line “Why your teacher is great” she wrote: “She’s nice, fun and very intelligent. She makes things fun to learn. We need more teachers like her.”

Which is why I started in the first place. And keep going back. Happy happy day.