You never know. . . .

Today was one of those days with more to do than time to do it in. I got off to a late start, and I had to meet Christine at Borders, and I didn't want her to have to wait for me because I knew she had to be home at a certain time, etc., so I was a little stressed. One of the things on my "to do" list was to stop at the grocery store and pick up a few things. I parked my car by the front door, but when I finished my shopping I was closer to the back door checkout. If I went through this register, that would mean walking clear up to the front of the parking lot to my car. But then I saw Sylvia at the back door checkout, so I figured it would be worth the walk. I frequently see Sylvia behind the register when I shop at this store, and I always enjoy going through her line. I don't really know Sylvia, and she doesn't know me. But she treats me like she does. I don't mean that she asks me how my kids are or what I'm doing over the weekend. I mean she shows me the same warmth and sincerity she would if she did know me. Her smile is genuine and her laugh is ready. But after all these years, I had never told Sylvia how much I appreciate her. So today I did. I told her how much I enjoy seeing her when I come into the store, how she is always so friendly and cheerful, and how I feel good being around her. The bag-boy standing next to her nodded in agreement, but Sylvia was flabbergasted. She almost recoiled at my words, slapped her hand to her chest, and said, "Me?" As I continued my words of praise and appreciation (and she continued checking out my groceries), she started to get a little emotional and said I was about to make her cry. Then she explained why. One day Sylvia had checked a lady through her line, and the transaction was basically finished except that the customer was digging out 3 cents in change. Meanwhile, Sylvia (in an effort to be industrious and efficient) had started checking through the man who was next in line. The woman was so offended and irate that she went directly to the manager and complained about Sylvia. Now, I don't know how long ago this happened, but it must have been recently enough that it was still on Sylvia's mind. So, my kind words were like balm to a wound for her. I was so grateful that I had spoken up, and I was also very humbled. I was humbled to have been the one to bring her such comfort. But I was also humbled to think that perhaps I had been an instrument of the Lord's in blessing the life of someone else. When I said my prayer over my toast this morning, I asked Heavenly Father to guide and direct me in what I do and say during the day. Maybe I was prompted to talk to Sylvia. If so, we were both blessed by it. It reminds me of a poem a dear friend once sent me. It's called "You Never Know":

You never know when someone
May catch a dream from you.
You never know when a little word
Or something you may do
May open up the windows
Of a mind that seeks the light.
The way you live may not matter at all,
But you never know -- it might.

And just in case it could be
That another's life, through you,
Might possibly change for the better
With a broader and brighter view,
It seems it might be worth a try
At pointing the way to the right.
Of course, it may not matter at all,
But then again -- it might.

So thank you, Sylvia. Thank you for being the kind of person you are. And thank you for helping to remind me that Heavenly Father is listening to my prayers over my morning toast.

That's my girl!

So, I had promised Christine that I would come watch her, Katie, and Beth run this community race at a metro-park near their house. This is something that Christine has wanted to do since last year, and she has been running almost daily to prepare for it. My car has been making an unpleasant clunking noise when I drive over bumps, holes, or cracks in the road, so I didn't want to drive it the 22 miles to her house (where we were meeting). I planned to take my husband's car, but his tires were low on air, so half an hour before I had to leave I asked Nathan if he would take the Buick to the gas station and fill the tires. Instead he tried to fill them with his little emergency mini-compressor, and by 4:30 only the two tires on the driver's side were finished. Since I could not drive a lopsided car, my only choice was to drive his car. I don't really like driving anyone else's car. I have very short legs and need to move the seat w-a-y up so that I can comfortably reach the pedals. This usually produces a strangulation effect with shoulder strap of the seat belt -- which it did. It had rained earlier today, and it was very humid, but I unfastened the seat belt long enough to be able to roll down the window and open the sun roof. Eventually, after much tugging, grunting, and grumbling I managed to get my body and clothing adjusted as well as possible and left the house just in time to get stuck in rush hour traffic. About halfway there, it started to rain -- for the second time today. By the time we were all in Christine's van and on the way to the park, it was pouring down with flashes of lightning in the distance. Since "they never cancel this race" and we were walled in by traffic, we continued onward. By the time we reached the park, the rain had subsided and the sun had returned -- but everything at the park was, of course, soaked. There were literally hundreds of people of all ages participating in this race, which comprised three simultaneous events. Some were track teams from various schools, but many were individual runners. The course was across grass, gravel, and dirt; across a field, uphill, through a woods, downhill, around the field again, back up the hill and down again -- 5 kilometers in all. Since it had just rained, not only was the ground wet and, in places, muddy, but the air was heavy and humid. Looking at the trees in the distance was like looking through fog. I was so proud of Christine for completing this event. What a wonderful accomplishment, and what a memory to share with her daughters! Afterwards, as she stood in line to get her T-shirt, I said, "I'll bet you're the only mother of eight who ran this race." She glanced around and kind of mumbled, "Yeah. . . I'm probably the only mother of eight here." Well done, Christine, well done.

You can do it . . . we can help??

My son, Nathan, has been "working on" our bathroom for about 3 years now. It's been a painfully slow process, but it's not entirely his fault. He has to work around his school schedule, his gaming schedule, his family responsibilities, the subtleties of his motivational levels, our supply of discretionary funds for the needed materials, and the alignment of the heavenly bodies. So, sometimes when he is ready to work, we are not ready to buy the supplies; and when we have money for supplies, he has finals, or...well, you get the idea. Well, he starts back to school on August 22nd, so he's been trying to make up for lost time. I finally sucked the necessary money out of our savings and went with him to Home Depot to buy the vanity and sink (I had purchased the faucet a year or so ago). I chose a sensibly-priced vanity and a moderately-priced sink to go with it. Unfortunately, the moderately-priced sink did not fit the sensibly-priced vanity, it only fit the more expensive model. Imagine that. So, we bought the vanity and sink and hauled them home in his van. Today, Nathan unhooked our old white-with-gold-flecks, 1950’s-style vanity/sink and carried it out to the trash. He had already purchased a new drain pipe of some sort that hooks up to the sink, and it was supposed to be a “universal” size, so everything was good-to-go. Except that the pipe wouldn’t fit the hole in the sink. He told the guy at Home Depot that it didn’t fit and was told, “It has to fit. It’s a universal size.” He tried to explain that it didn’t fit, and the guy just looked blankly at him and repeated, “It has to fit. It’s a universal size drain.” Nathan went back and tried again, and still couldn’t get it to fit. I guess it was designed for another universe or something. So this time Nathan went back to Home Depot and (this cracks me up just thinking about it) went to the display models of sinks, and unfastened the drain pipes from two different sinks. Then he took these two different-sized drain pipes (one of which was the type we had), went back to the wall where our chosen sink was hanging, and showed the guy that one drain fit and the other didn’t. I wish I could have been there to see the look on the guy’s face. He was incredulous. He said, “You took it apart?” Even with the visual aid, this guy was still not convinced and just said, "It should fit." Finally, after all this frustration, time, and gas, he happened to mention to Nathan that the faucet we bought should have come with some sort of fitting or adapter or molecular modifier that would make the pipe fit. And it did. And now it does. Our new vanity looks a lot like the one in the picture, only with two drawers instead of three and with a "California Onyx" (beige) sink. Of course, it will be a while before we can enjoy it in our bathroom. It is now my job to prime and paint the walls before the new vanity can be installed. Maybe I'll be able to afford a new mirror/cabinet by then. In the meantime, we have no bathroom sink and everything that was stored under or on top of the sink is in a laundry basket on the floor. I tried to get Nathan to explain to me why it's now my job to paint the bathroom and why, after 3 years, I am expected to do it in 2 or 3 days. I didn't get a satisfactory explanation, although he thought it made perfect sense. Maybe I'm in the wrong universe.

My grandbabies!

I don't have anything profound or entertaining to write about, but I haven't written for a while, so I'll just drop in and leave this picture here. I'm not sure anyone is really reading this anyway, but here it is. Yesterday, Sunday, we had our monthly extended family FHE. While we were all there, and before the men left for a stake priesthood meeting, I herded all the grandkids out to the back yard for a group picture. The last time I had a group grandchildren picture was 4 grandkids ago, so it was time for an update. The oldest, Katie, is 15-1/2 and counting the days until she can get her license. The youngest, Micah, will be 1 in November. There are currently 29 members in our family, so family gatherings are pretty crazy. All of us have pretty small homes, so family get-togethers are very "cozy." It has been so beautiful here lately -- sunny, low humidity, blue skies, fluffy white clouds. I have almost finished the yearly cleaning of my office in preparation for the new school year. But, that's about all I've accomplished. This has not been a very productive summer for me at all. My pain level has kept me down a lot, I'm afraid. But the wonderful thing is, my family doesn't care. I mean, my grandkids still think I'm the greatest person on earth, even if I can't walk very well. That is one thing I am so very grateful for -- my family makes me feel so loved. And sometimes I am not very lovable. They are all so forgiving, so gracious, and so affectionate. Yesterday during our FHE lesson, we were given sheets of paper with a family member's name on each page. We were supposed to write positive comments about that person on their page. Then every person got to take home their page of positive comments. It was interesting and heart-warming reading the comments my kids had written on mine. You'd think I was a Mormon Mother Theresa or something. At the bottom, my son had written a short, but interesting comment -- I knew exactly who had written it. So, at lunch today I said, "I noticed you wrote 'Mary Poppins' on my sheet." He said, "Well?? That kinda says it all, doesn't it? -- 'Practically perfect in every way'." I nearly choked on my drink, but I had to laugh. Practically perfect?? Far from it. But I am so thankful that my children see me that way. (*sigh*) This must be what heaven will be like -- only without the pain.