A Pair of Jeans - part 3

You knew this story couldn't be over yet...

The Bossman and I eventually became friends, sort of. I worked really hard for him and he paid me crap-tastic wages every other week. Because Christmas got in the way, it took me several months before I finally got my pair of jeans. Yeah, they were awesome! But by then my boyfriend was gone, I turned 15, and I was on the prowl. I discovered that I really kind of liked boys...lots of boys!

About February or March, the Bossman hired a couple of girls from the local college to work the night shift with me. I had graduated from counter help to cook, to night manager in just a few short months. I was good at being in charge, but it was a little strange to be bossing these much older girls around. They didn't seem to mind though and other than the nights I had basketball games and Sundays, I worked pretty much every day. That meant my social life revolved around my job.

LDS missionaries

My parents didn't really love me hanging around with these older girls all the time and they were even more upset when the Bossman hired a guy from the college to help us close up every night. He was nice enough, and it wasn't long before he started walking me home, after all, it was late and I was all by myself since I still wasn't old enough to drive.

He was never really my boyfriend since I liked lots of guys, but I thought that maybe he wanted to be. When he hit the ripe old age of 19, he decided to go on a mission for our church. His home when he wasn't at school was on the other side of the Bossman's home and since I still wasn't old enough to drive, attending his farewell was problematic. Then the Bossman did something totally uncharacteristic! He offered to let me stay at his house with his family on Saturday night and then deliver all of us to the church meeting.

I was surprised when my parents agreed to this scheme, but excited too. The Bossman's daughter, Lisa, and I had never been friends, but I figured that for one night I would be safe. And I was. We sent off the missionary and then life went back to normal. (I have tons more to tell you about Taco Time, but I need to finish the story about this guy.)

I wrote to him for the two years he was on his mission and when I was 17, he returned. I wasn't really expecting anything and I was too young to really start thinking about getting serious, but I thought we might have some fun together since I knew he was coming back to school. I attended his homecoming and he sought me out afterwards. I invited him to come to my house a little later in the week so we could get reacquainted without all the people around.

He showed up right on schedule. We had been such good friends before and during his mission that I was a little put off when he was so stiff and formal with me. He had only been at my house for about 15 minutes when he finally confessed that he had prayed about me and I wasn't the "one" so he didn't see any reason to continue our relationship. Then he left.

I was completely shocked! I was dumped before we even got started.

OK, now you have to use your imagination to fast forward about 5 years. My sweetie and I had been married for about 4 years and Bossy was three or four and the Gym Rat was a baby. I ran into this guy. He was working at Fred Meyer in Logan, many miles from my hometown and a lifetime away from the day I had been so swiftly dumped. It's amazing how a little time and perspective can heal old wounds.

I greeted him warmly and we chatted for a few minutes about our lives and families. It was comfortable, like two old friends just catching up. As we were wrapping up our conversation, he issued an invitation to me and my sweetie to drop by his home. I readily agreed, thinking it might be fun to meet his wife.

We showed up at his apartment as promised. It only took about 5 minutes before I discovered the motive behind his friendliness. He and his new wife were selling Amway...

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Some people just never change.

A Pair of Jeans - part 2

It was Saturday morning in the fall of 1979, my first day at my new job. If you missed the beginning of this story, click here. I was very nervous, but excited and proud to be an actual employee. I arrived a few minutes early and was escorted downstairs to the tiny office. It took me a while to fill out all the paperwork and agree to hard manual labor for the grand sum of $1.50/hour. Even then it was only about half of minimum wage, but it was small-town Utah and I was only 14 so I don't think any of it was legal.

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I signed on the dotted line anyway because if you remember, we were raised to believe that anything was better than nothing and I was handed my first hideous uniform. It was multicolored polyester so the stains wouldn't show. Saturday morning was prep time and typically slow, the perfect time for training.

The boss's wife, Janice, worked the day shift and to say she didn't like me was putting it mildly...but I don't think she really liked anyone...Her partner in crime was their daughter, Lisa, and she didn't like me either. Thankfully, since I was in school, I only had to work with them on Saturdays.

I survived that first day (barely) and I even planned to come back the next week. I gradually got used to the craziness of fast food. Even when it was slow, the Bossman demanded that we work, cleaning and scrubbing and prepping. I was not even allowed to bring my books with me, let alone open them.

After I had been working there for almost two weeks, I got really sick. Like fever, stomachache, throwing up sick. It was a Friday night and I hated to leave them short-handed, but my mother called in for me anyway and I spent the evening in bed.

Did I mention yesterday that one of the reasons I wanted one of those expensive pairs of jeans was to impress my boyfriend? You remember the guy with the awesome blue car that I was only weeks away from nearly crashing for him?

Little did I know that he had picked that particular Friday night to make the 15-minute drive from his hometown (which also happened to be the Bossman's hometown) to mine. He spent the evening cruising main with his guy-friends and at some point they stopped to see me, only they didn't see me, they saw the Bossman. And worse yet, he saw them.

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On Saturday I was feeling much better and I showed up at 5:00 to work my shift. I hung up my jacket, clocked in and got right to work. There was only one table of customers in the front and when they left, I grabbed my rag to clean up their table. That's when the Bossman decided to pounce.

He yelled at me and accused me of calling in sick so I could hang out with my boyfriend. He told me if I didn't want to work I could leave now and never come back. It was one of the worst tongue-lashings I have ever had and that's saying something.

I tried to tell him that I didn't even know my boyfriend was in town, that I was home sick in bed and he was welcome to call my mother, but he wouldn't listen. After about 10 minutes, he went downstairs to his office and left me alone to dry my tears and decide what to do. So far I hadn't earned a single paycheck and in our small town, jobs weren't easy to get. Besides, I hadn't even done anything wong! I guess it was the injustice of it all that made me stay.

Or maybe I'm really just a masochist...

A New Pair of Jeans

I turned 14 in 1979. It was the end of the 70s and psychedelic clothes, but the beginning of big hair and $50 jeans. That might not seem like a big deal to you, but to me it was huge! Girls were wearing their jeans so tight they had to lay down on the bed to zip them up. There was no such thing as stretch denim then, at least not where I lived.

You know I grew up in small-town Utah. We had very few shops there and only a handful sold clothing (I think the IFA sold the most...). That is until the Pant House opened. Their place was small, one area of our tiny strip mall, but they only carried denim jeans and one rack full of tee-shirts. I would have done anything to own a pair of those fancy jeans! Including apply for my first job from a real and actual business.


Our town had three places that served fast food, Charlie's, The Malt Shop, and Taco Time. Everybody wanted to work at Charlie's, because he was a fun and awesome guy, and because unless people came in, employees didn't really have to work. Those lucky few could even study if it were slow.  The Malt Shop was clear across town nearer my grandparents' house and since I was too young to drive, it was out of the question. That left Taco Time.

Taco Time was only about a block away from my house and relatively new to town. I loved the food there. Every time I had extra baby-sitting money, I would walk over and buy a cherry-Sprite in one of their keepsake glasses. After several years, I had quite a collection!  Unfortunately, the guy who ran the place didn't like me...maybe because I was constantly harassing him about when the newest glass would be available.

But I sure wanted a pair of those awesome jeans, so on a Friday afternoon, I gathered my courage and my loose change (had to buy the latest glass) and headed over. I was nervous and understandably so. This guy had the reputation for making his people work and if they didn't like it? They were out of there quickly! Thanks to Grandma, I knew how to work, but I was still worried.

Mexi-fries are my favorite!

I placed my order and sat down to wait. I could see the manager in the back when his daughter handed me my soda. Usually I just left at that point, but on that day I sat down at one of the little tables instead. It wasn't long before he made his way to the front counter, a white rag in his hand, vigorously attacking every surface. He was a big, barrel-chested man with a funny name...and he scared me.

When he got to the front, he seemed to notice that I was there. "What do you want?" he was never great with the customers. Now I am not a timid girl and I wasn't then either, so I spoke up, "Are you hiring?" He sort of guffawed at me, "Who needs a job?" I lifted my chin and looked him in the eye, "I do."

He eyed me up and down, clearly remembering all the trouble I had given him. Finally he asked, "How old are you?" I was a little worried about this question, but I answered truthfully, "Almost 15." After all, it was November and I would turn the end of January. He must have thought that was OK, because the next thing I knew I was getting a lecture on how to be a proper employee. I don't remember most of it, but the last thing he said was that I could start the next day. Maybe he mentioned wages there somewhere, but if he did, I didn't hear it. All I knew was that I had finally found a job, and I was going to get my pair of pants!

Our Mini Vacation

A couple of weeks ago, I received an e-mail from my Tupperware account. An awesome girl named Ashley wanted to do a Tupperware party and she was wondering if I would like to help her out. I was so excited! These sorts of opportunities don't come by every day (at least not for me)...

Then I asked her where she lived. When she said Manila, Utah, I immediately hopped on Google and started looking at the map. My heart sank. It was a three-hour drive and that was the short way through Wyoming! I called my manager to ask her if she would take care of it, but she didn't answer her phone so I just left her a message.

In the meantime, I called my sweetie. During the course of our conversation, I happened to mention this party and my disappointment. "Why don't you see if she can do it over spring break?" he suggested. "Then we can take the kids and run away for the weekend." That's why I love this man!

Oh, I knew that I couldn't really make enough on the party to pay for the whole trip, but it would help and we could write off the gas and other expenses. I hopped back online and started looking for hotels. Manila is small, only about 800 people this time of year, but it is only about 40 miles away from Vernal and we hadn't taken the kids there in about 15 years. I had heard that their Quarry exhibit was brand new and amazing.

It looked like the hotels were going to be too expensive and we might have to give up the party anyway, but then I got on the Super 8 website. I could get a room there for $55/night and they had an indoor pool and free breakfast. You can't beat that! So I made the reservations. Sometime during the week, Bossy got wind of our plans and was so excited to come that I called and added another room.

We took off Thursday morning and stopped in Roosevelt for lunch. The kids enjoyed the park there and they made me go down the slide. It was so silly...

We rolled into Vernal about 3:00 and hunted down the Scout Shop. Our Cub Scouts wanted to earn the Quarry patch and the Flaming Gorge patch and it would be much easier to just get them while we were in town. After that we spent an hour or so at the Dinosaur Museum. The kids loved the outdoor dinosaur garden and they had to pose with every one of them. The Dog Walker was voted the most Jurassic-like. Is that a good thing???!

We checked into the motel and got settled, then we headed out to dinner. The lady at the scout shop had recommended the Seven Eleven Ranch. It was a little pricey for us, but the kids loved the food and everyone was stuffed by the time we left.

Back at the hotel we took a quick dip in the pool, but the heater was broken and it was SOO cold! After warming up in the hot tub, we found our rooms and settled in for the evening.
 
On Friday morning, we arrived at the Quarry just before 10:00. I don't really remember much about the old museum, but this one is so amazing! They have basically built a building around part of the mountain and the mountain has been chipped away to reveal hundreds of actual dinosaur bones and you can even touch some of them!

After we left the Quarry, we went on a driving tour to see some of the petroglyphs and other sights. My sweetie took hundreds of pictures but he is trying to win a contest at work so most of them don't have people in them. Our last stop of the day was the dam at Flaming Gorge. We missed the last tour by 20 minutes, but it was still beautiful and we were able to watch a video and look around the visitor's center. We drove across the dam and stopped at the overlook.


We got back to Vernal about 5:30 and stopped at Little Caesar's for pizza. I'm thinking it was hotel time, but Bossy had one more auto tour she wanted to do before it got dark. She had read about some petroglyphs at the McConkie ranch west of town...

When we got there, the kids all piled out of the van and took off with Bossy up the steep mountain trail. By the time I got Baby Doll out of the van and bundled up in her jacket, they were no where to be seen. So my sweetie and I and Baby Doll started up the path...and I use that term loosely...


Even in my younger days I don't remember going up a trail like that one. There were quite a few times I kept thinking maybe we should just turn around, but we didn't. I was hauling Baby Doll because there was no way she could climb it herself. My sweetie was carrying his expensive camera and no, I didn't want to trade.

We finally got to the top and started back down. The kids had finished the trail and come back up the other way to help us (although I'm pretty sure we could have managed without them...I'm not that old!) After we were finally all safely back in the van, we headed for the hotel. The heater in the pool had been fixed and we spent over an hour playing with the kids and causing chaos.

This post is getting so long, I guess I'll have to finish it up tomorrow...Don't forget to come back!

Ping Pong

Did I tell you we got a ping pong table for Christmas? My sweetie loves game tables and over the years we have had quite a few of them including air hockey, pool, and skeeball. Most of these have eventually gone the way of the big dumpster after the kids have played them to death. (Actually it's not that simple. First they have to get broken, but not badly enough that my sweetie will let me throw them directly into the trash. Then they sit in the garage for several years waiting to be fixed first...)

But I digress.

A goofy pic of me and Gamer. Nothing to do with ping pong.

We set up our new ping pong table downstairs in the family room. Thankfully, this one folds up so we don't have to dedicate that much space to it all the time. We had our very first tournament on Christmas Day and the kids were shocked that I am actually pretty good at ping pong.

What they didn't know was that I had played hundreds of games of it as a child. My parents didn't have the funds or the space for a real ping pong table, but we had an awesome kitchen table! It was oval shaped and the chairs were attached to it. They did not have legs that sat on the floor. (I looked and looked through Google Images to find a picture of the table that is still in my dad's house, but apparently it was a Utah thing and they just don't exist anymore.) We had a little detachable net and a couple of paddles and we spent hours playing ping pong in our kitchen.

It was a little trickier than our official ping pong table. It wasn't quite as wide and of course we didn't have lines on it (although we did put them on a few times with masking tape, but Mom didn't like it). The biggest difference was the rounded corners. Balls that would have been perfectly legal on our real table just ended up on the floor in the kitchen.

Point being, I learned to play a really tight game right down the middle. The kids were all annoyed that I won the tournament, but I reminded them that I was playing with a huge disadvantage...We didn't have the chairs that couldn't be removed (like our old kitchen table) to trip over.

Play Ball!

You all know I grew up in small-town Utah. In the early 80s, our high school had less than four hundred students in a total of 4 grades. That meant lots of things...some good and some bad...but the worst part was that we weren't allowed to have a girls softball team. (They do have one now though and they are awesome!)

I'm on the back row, third from the left. The two men were our coaches.

Softball was huge in Sanpete County! Each town had at least one team in every age group and some towns had more than one. I started playing league softball when I was 8 years old. They actually started a girls' team because I wanted to go out for Little League with my brothers and there were some people in the town who just couldn't stand the idea of a girl playing with the boys. I think maybe I told you that story before...

We played softball all summer. We started in April and our last tournament was on Labor Day weekend. I loved the sport and I was good at it. I didn't love pitching, but I was the second in line when Yvonne got tired. My spot was shortstop and I had a wicked throw with a lot of heat. (Now that I'm old I don't play shortstop any more. I can barely make the throw to first.)

When I was 17, my YW leader was our first baseman. I played several years with that group and they were awesome! In 1982 we took second place in the county-wide tournament. My friends decided to have a huge party. My mom agreed to let me go because she assumed that Bonnie, my YW leader would be there. As it turned out, Bonnie had other things to do that night.

It was the first party I had ever been at with drinking and at 17, I was pretty clueless. But it didn't matter. My friends knew my standards and my parents...even if I had gotten down on my knees and begged, not a single one of them would have let me have a drop.

When I got engaged the next summer, these amazing ladies threw me a bridal shower one night after the game. When I got married and we moved away, these faces were some of the hardest ones to leave. At the time I had no idea that I would have a second chance to play ball...

Banner Girl

I think I've told you before that we have a bunch of band geeks in our family. I spent my younger years blowing a clarinet in our junior high school band, but I quit playing in high school after only one quarter because our band teacher just couldn't control the group and it really bothered me. I wanted to learn and be part of something amazing, not watch the drummers harass our poor frustrated teacher.

One of my favorite parts of our junior high school band had always been the marching part. Our teacher was awesome! He taught us to "boogie" and we loved it. We competed against bands that were much older than us and we took home top honors. So when Marching Band season rolled around, I was sad that I wouldn't be part of the band. This was the case for three years.

Fortunately, it helps to know somebody.

I'm not exactly sure how or why the arrangement was made, but the band teacher needed someone who was willing to carry the banner in the parades and on the field. It was 1982 and my senior year.  I was excited to be one of the "chosen ones." I even got to wear that awesome pair of white gloves. And you think these outfits are cute? You should have seen the ones we wore for the show...they were harem pants split all the way up the side and worn over a leotard. Sadly, I don't seem to have any pictures of those... my legs were much cuter then than they are now.

My Most Awesome Craft Project Ever

 I told you a few days ago that I'm not all that crafty, but once upon a time I was! It was Christmas 1977 or 78. I was a craft freak! Naturally I assumed everyone else was too, but that is not always the case. We generally made homemade gifts for our brothers and sisters. As the bratty little sister, I was always trying to impress my oldest sister, and not usually successfully.

So I talked with Grandma and we came up with an idea that I thought was amazing! She gave me some white fabric and we cut it to about the size of a sheet of paper. Then I looked through all of her coloring books. We couldn't find one that was just right, so she took me to the store and we bought one with pictures of dolls in it.

Then Grandma gave me some carbon paper (remember, this was the 70s) and I carefully copied each of the dolls onto the fabric squares. I was so excited when I was finally done! It took me many hours of concentration, but the quilt blocks were worth it. I could just imagine the smile on my sister's face when she opened them on Christmas morning.

The part I didn't figure in was the fact that my sister didn't really love crafts...I'm not sure she did embroidery work at all. But it was a gift I knew I would love, so I assumed she would too.

The blocks sat untouched in a box in her room for about three years. So one day when I was about 15 or 16, and she was off to college, I pulled them out and began working on them. As I watched the patterns grow, I became pretty addicted. I started taking a tiny box of supplies with me to church so I could stitch during Sacrament meeting.

Then I started taking them with me to school. I had a couple of teachers who complained, but when I explained to them that I could concentrate better (and not fall asleep) when my hands were busy, they didn't complain. I was a good student, so that helped my cause.

It took me two or three years working on them pretty much every day to complete them all. The hair was the worst! Because it was a coloring book, they didn't make any attempt to make fewer lines and I didn't think to leave some out when I traced them. 

When the blocks were finally done, Grandma and I went to the store and picked out fabric to piece it together. I hadn't intended to frame them, but the quilt would have been too small otherwise. After she helped me with the top, we had a distant cousin mark the pattern. Then we took it to my grandma on my dad's side and she did the quilting.

All in all, it took about 8 years from start to finish to make this quilt. It's beautiful and warm, but it's never been used. It has become a family heirloom that sits quietly in my cedar chest. Most of my kids have never seen it.

In fact, it was about six months ago that Crafty asked me if I knew how to embroider.

"I used to," I replied, "just a little."

Going Solo

I always thought I could sing.

7th grade choir - back row, second one from the left 

Even when those around me didn't quite think so. I was in about the 7th grade when I realized that I didn't have to be able to hit the high notes...that it was perfectly acceptable to be an alto. And it was fun! I love harmonizing.

I started singing in the choir that same year. It was 1977, and for a Jr. High group, we were quite good.

When I was a freshman, our class was in charge of a talent assembly. With 83 kids in the class, we had plenty of talent, the problem was that some of them were afraid to share. So we were practicing and one of the girls had planned to play a piano solo to a popular tune of the day, "Reunited."

Somebody got the bright idea that having someone sing along would make the whole number more interesting. I was recruited along with one of my best friends. We practiced together and prepared to wow the audience. An hour or two before the show was supposed to begin, someone pointed out that two girls singing "Reunited" was probably not appropriate for our high school audience. My friend was all too happy to drop out. Suddenly I was singing a solo in front of the whole school to a song that I had only practiced a couple of times. I was beyond terrified.

8th grade choir - middle row with my face circled in black pen

The setup was not good. Our auditorium was small and the piano didn't sit on the stage, it sat on the floor right in front of it. My accompanist turned it just right so I could sit on the edge of the stage with a microphone and still be able to see her sheet music since I wasn't sure of all of the lyrics.

Surprisingly, we pulled it off! I don't think anyone (except for my dad who was a teacher and in the audience and totally shocked to see me up there) had any idea that we had only practiced a few times. That was the first time I became addicted to the applause. I performed many times during high school at various places and loved every minute of it! It was gratifying to realize that even though I had always thought I could sing, now there were other people who thought I could too.

My Second (and Last!) Beauty Pageant

I've told you plenty of times that I'm a small-town girl. We only had 83 students in my entire graduating class! Our high school was made up of kids from three towns, two a little bigger, and a small one. If you do the math, that meant there were only about 16 girls in my class from my home town.

The year was 1983 and there was incredible pressure on every graduating senior girl to enter the town's beauty pageant. I was still smarting from my recent loss in the Miss United Teenager pageant, so I was not excited to try again.

There were lots of reasons to NOT sign up. First and foremost was the fact that I just didn't look that great in a bathing suit. Second was the humiliation factor...I didn't like losing. Third, and probably the most logical, was the fact that I was so nearly engaged to my sweetie. Winning the pageant meant I had to represent our town at the local parades and other functions. It was a year-long commitment and getting married was not acceptable.

But my friends eventually talked me into giving it a try. Immediately we were celebrities! As contestants our pictures were in the local newspaper. We were given lessons on sitting properly, public speaking, and posture. They even had classes on hair and makeup! It was a pretty good deal since it didn't cost anything.

I know, it's a repeat picture!

When the day finally arrived, the only part I was really dreading was the swimsuit competition. I had a nice new one-piece bathing suit and three-inch heels to wear with it. We had practiced this particular part of the show, but I was still not adequately prepared for the awkwardness of the situation. Thankfully, even though I knew there were several hundred people in the audience, I was blinded by the spotlight and I managed to do my little twirl and pose without falling down.

Then we had the talent portion of the show. I don't think I've ever mentioned that I love to sing other than that I had taken some voice lessons at one time. I belted out Billy Joel's "Piano Man," a song I had performed several times in front of large audiences. I actually love singing in public (or at least I did then...I haven't done it for so long, I'd probably be terrified now), so that part was easy.

The last segment was the evening gown competition. Because there were only about 10 of us (not everyone was as easily persuaded as I was), there were no preliminary cuts. Everyone was in until the winners were announced. After walking the stage (again in my prom dress), we were asked silly questions and then it was time to announce the winners. I felt pretty good and with the eternal optimism of youth, I thought I had a chance.

Once again, I was disappointed to be left out of the winners' circle. Just for fun, I pulled out my old journal and this is what I had to say about it:

                                      May 7, 1983 - Saturday
                                      Well, I didn't win Miss Ephraim, but I guess that
                                       was to be expected. The day was busy and kind of
                                       fun. I wouldn't change anything I did, that's what
                                       hurts., when I feel like I did my best, and I still
                                       didn't make the grade. Oh well, another learning
                                       experience I suppose. I guess it was worth it. I got
                                       some pretty flowers and the shoes and swimsuit
                                        Dad bought for me...

 
Just like a typical teenager, focusing on what's in it for me...But it all worked out OK. On May 23rd I accepted a ring from my sweetie and my life changed drastically. Even a tiara wouldn't have been as sweet as my awesome engagement ring. And I couldn't have worn it nearly as many places...

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Little Choices

It was nice of the Drama Queen to bail me out last night. Yeah, I was definitely tired. We knew going in that we wouldn't have Teach to play the game with us because she had not been able to get anyone to work for her and the schedules were made up long before we knew when the game would be. That took us down to six players. Then one of our ladies had a family party and although she was finished just after nine, she didn't have the address to the church and since my phone was in my coat pocket and not on my person, I didn't get her message until the game was long over.

So we were five. I had a Tupperware party across town at 6:00 and I got to my house at 18 minutes to nine. I still had to change and I hadn't eaten anything, so I grabbed one of my sweetie's green biscuits (it was Dr. Seuss day!) and headed out the door. I got to the church about 4 minutes before the game started. For a minute it looked like we might forfeit after all, but our fifth player walked in right after we had the opening prayer.

The first quarter was OK, we held it together and even though we weren't stellar, we finished the quarter 8 - 20. Things went severely downhill from there. We made one basket in each of the next three quarters and finished a dismal 37 - 14. It was pretty pathetic. I only made one shot all night and it definitely wasn't a three although it was outside the key, so I guess that's good. That also means we are out of the tournament.

I'm the one on the left with the apron jersey thing

Honestly, I wasn't even going to tell you about it, but since somebody asked...I guess at my age I probably shouldn't even be playing basketball, but I sure love the game and my body craves (and needs!) the exercise. Did I ever tell you that I played on the high school team for two years? I loved being part of the team although I could have done without the 6:00 AM practices (you know I'm not a morning person). I played my freshman and sophomore years and as part of the Junior Varsity, I got to dress for the Varsity games, although I only got to play in a couple of them.

We weren't an awesome team but we did OK. I wore the number 24. Then when I was registering for my junior year, I had a choice to make. It was to try to earn my associates degree before I graduated from high school or to continue playing basketball. Yeah, you guessed it, I went with the school route. And I did it, I graduated from Snow College and Manti High school at the same time. That was the days before they allowed classes to count for credit at both schools. I was actually on an academic scholarship and a newspaper scholarship at Snow during my senior year in high school. It was like I was a split personality. I tried really hard to keep my two lives separate and basketball just didn't fit.

#24 that's me!

Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like had I chosen basketball instead of school. One thing I know for sure...I would never have met my sweetie. He would have graduated and been gone from Snow before I got there. It's good that things work out just the way there are supposed to...now if I can just figure out why we got trounced in last night's game...

Basketball Tournaments

Today is the start of our Women's Church Basketball tournament. In past years when we've been pretty competitive, I've been very excited about this day. This year I'm just dreading it. Maybe it's my age or maybe it's just that I'm pretty heavy, but the idea of playing a bunch of 20-something-year-olds is just not all that appealing.

As luck would have it, our first game is with the very best team in the league, Daybreak A. We only have 7 players from our entire stake. They have three full teams (at least!) that made it to the playoffs. Now I don't want to sound like I'm complaining, because this is not what I wanted to tell you about. I wanted to talk about another basketball tournament when I was a little younger...OK, I was a lot younger...

That's me on the left...the humble one.

It was 1979. I was 14 years old and it was about this time of year. We didn't really have youth basketball except what was sponsored by 4H. My dad was all about basketball, so I thought maybe he would like me a little better if I decided to enter the tournament. I showed up early in the morning at the Activity Center ready to compete in the one-on-one tournament.

I was excited and nervous. I had played some church ball and playground ball with my brothers, but I had never been on a team. I pulled on my shirt and headed for the gym with a girl named Robyn who was a year younger than me. We messed around for a bit, shooting hoops and waiting for the other girls to arrive. She was a much better shooter than I was...

After about half an hour, it became evident that no one else was coming. The 4H ladies crowned us the champs and the newspaper snapped our picture. Robyn and I just sort of looked at each other. Winning had been a little easier than we had expected...

The next weekend we were scheduled to play with the champs from the other towns in our area. The girl from Gunnison had about 6 inches on me and she had actually PLAYED basketball. I didn't stand a chance. In fact, I'm pretty sure I went down scoreless. Nothing like a big dose of humility...

I'll have to remember that lesson later tonight.

Lizards

Were you worried? I know, I just couldn't do it. So here I am, losing sleep, writing another post.

Tonight I was reading to the kids before we went to the library to return some books. Sport was interested in this book about lizards. He read the first half out loud and then I read the second half. The kids thought the lizards were awesome! Me...not so much. Lizards and I go way back...

It was about 1977. I was a sixth-grader in small-town Utah. Our district was rather poor so we didn't have much money for field trips and other frivolities. The powers-that-be decided it would be a great idea to have us discover our own county! We made a trip to Spring City to see the old houses there that were considered historic landmarks and we looked for trilobites west of Ephraim. Then we rode up into the foothills looking for I don't remember what.

Our teacher was busy pointing out the various rocks and plants when some of the boys found a lizard. It wasn't a very big lizard, probably about six inches long and rather harmless. They were actually running all over the rocks so it wasn't that difficult for them to catch one. Then the boys proceeded to run up to a group of unsuspecting girls and send them screeching and running in all directions.

Well that wasn't going to work with me.

My class on the actual field trip to Spring City

I had two older brothers and I had certainly been around lizards before. It wasn't long before Mrs Howell got wind of the situation and she ordered the boys to release the poor creature. I was about twenty feet away when they set it down on a rock and started chasing it. Of course it ran straight toward me!

I turned away, hoping to not get trampled in the stampede. The boys zipped past me, intent on terrorizing the lizard if they couldn't use it to terrorize the girls. Fortunately they lost sight of the poor thing and after about 5 minutes of searching, they headed off on new adventures.

I was left standing there...in my pink bell-bottom jeans.

Sixth-grade Me

It wasn't long before I started feeling uncomfortable. Something was itching my leg. Then I felt a distinct movement. I turned away from the group and in a panic, I unbuttoned my pants. He was on my hip, crawling steadily upward as I ripped open my fly and stared into his beady little eyes. I stifled a scream; I couldn't let anyone see me with my pants undone. Without touching him, I urged him to QUICKLY leave my person.

Apparently he had seen his only escape route from the boys as running up the inside of my pant leg. Yeah, you can be grateful that skinny jeans are all the rage now. He might have tried the same thing, but he would never have gotten past my ankle.

Presidents' Day

Yesterday we visited Grandma and she has lots more snow than we do. (I know, a two-hour ride, just to go sledding...)

We left Baby Doll and Drama Queen with Grandma and headed for our favorite spot at the flood dam, but as soon as we turned onto the road my sweetie knew it was a mistake. The wheels started spinning in the soft powdery snow and we were totally stuck! "OK, all the big people in the back!" he called. After we moved everyone around and I sat in the driver's seat to steer, he and the Dog Walker got out to push.

Prima Donna and Curly

Princess and Crafty

There was NO WAY we were getting that van out! Thankfully, after about five minutes somebody in a big truck stopped and pulled us out. Not that it was easy, he had to switch chains and get on dry pavement before he could pull our big van out.

Sport

So we started looking for a new place to sled...one where we could park on dry ground. We drove around for about 20 minutes and finally found this hill where someone had driven a vehicle a few times and the tire tracks had packed the snow nicely for us.

Dog Walker

The only problem was that the tracks led directly onto the highway. So my sweetie parked the van right at the bottom of the tracks and told the kids it was better to smack into the van than run into the highway.
(Not that it turned out to be a problem, nobody got within 10 feet of the van.)

I wasn't really planning to sled, but you can see that I finally succumbed to their persuasion and I had a great time going down with Curly and Scout.

Me and Curly

 Even my sweetie got into the action.

The walk back up...

And when we were finished we headed back to Grandma's for a wonderful lunch. She even made us four different cherry desserts in honor of Presidents' Day.

And how was your holiday?