The Appraisal

I know I promised you a pinewood derby post today, but my sweetie was too tired to write it, so here I am, pouring my heart out. That's because a couple of weeks ago in the middle of all this craziness, we had a pretty good-sized wind storm. Like every other time, that wind blew a bunch of shingles off my roof and into the flowerbeds.

This is usually not that big of a problem because my awesome son-in-law (BTW HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GAMER!!!) climbs up there and patches the bare spots. That's been going on for the past 8 years. But this time my sweetie said, "Enough! How much is it going to cost to re-shingle the house?"

This is actually the second time he asked this question and the first time the answer was like $14,000. Now I don't know about you, but I don't have that kind of money just laying around...and if I did, I'm not sure I'd want to spend it on my roof. So the obvious answer was to check into our equity and see about refinancing the house.

We happened to be in luck. Rates had dropped an entire percentage point since our last loan was written, so the whole thing suddenly made sense. I got on a fast-track loan program with our current mortgage holders and got started on the paperwork. That's when my kids learned the meaning of the word "appraisal." And they didn't like it!

We've spent the last 10 days cleaning and scrubbing and fixing up. Everyone had to clean their bedrooms and help in the common areas. My sweetie touched up paint, replaced the outside light fixtures, and scrubbed bathrooms. I didn't like the idea of someone being able to just wander anywhere they wanted in my house, but that is exactly what happened at 10:00 this morning.

Oh and since he had to measure the yard and the garage, all of those areas needed to at least look presentable. It was a nightmare! But everyone chipped in, even Bossy's family came over and helped us get the yard in shape. It was like spring cleaning on steroids.

I couldn't do anything about the massive pile of laundry, but my house looks amazing and I'm so proud of the kids for all of their hard work. I'll let you know how it works out...maybe tomorrow my sweetie will be sufficiently rested to write about the cars.

Maybe...

Pioneer Day

Living in Utah has certain advantages…like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir (I saw them in concert last night and it was amazing!). We have the Great Salt Lake, which is beautiful, even if you wouldn’t want to swim in it. We also have Zion’s National Park, Moab, Capitol Reef…hundreds of square miles of beautiful country (if you can avoid the road construction to get there…). But one of the coolest things we have is an extra holiday in July!

July 24th marks the anniversary of the pioneer saints entering the Salt Lake valley and Brigham Young announcing, “This is the place!” We celebrate with a big parade downtown and a world class rodeo (which I have only attended once in my life when a neighbor offered us free tickets). Many companies give employees the day off, but not the one my sweetie works for. This year the 24th falls on a Sunday, so the parade and other festivities are being held on the 25th. My sweetie and I were both born and raised in Utah and we have pioneers in every line of our family.  In an effort to honor our ancestry, I’d like to tell you a little about one of them.

Picture credit

It was 1862 in Mt. Pleasant, Utah.  Little Eliza Jane was 18 months old and she liked to follow her daddy, Nathan Staker into the orchard when he went to work.  This worried her mom because there was a large ditch that ran close by (I’m sorry, I told you before that I had shared all my drowning stories, but I found one more). One day after lunch Eliza Jane was missing.  They looked everywhere for her.  Finally someone thought of the ditch.  She was there, floating in the water wedged against the dam.  She had been missing for over an hour and nothing could revive her.

Picture credit

Her grieving parents decided to send for Elder Orson Hyde who lived 5 miles away in Spring City.  When Elder Hyde got there, he looked at Eliza Jane’s little body.  She had no pulse and no heartbeat.  Her body was getting cold.  He told the Stakers, “She is dead and it isn’t pleasing in the sight of the Lord that we should try to bring back our dead after He has called them home.”  Her dad said that he always tried to do what the Lord wanted, but that she was promised in her blessing that she would grow to womanhood and become a mother in Israel.  “In that case,” said Elder Hyde, “I will ask God to restore your little girl to life again.” It wasn’t long before Eliza’s little body was once again warm and pink. Eliza Jane lived to bear 13 children (I told you it runs in the family!).

Dog Walker and Teach pretending to be pioneers

There are so many amazing stories like this one written in our old family journals and histories. I believe in miracles! I know when Princess drowned it wasn’t quite as dramatic as her being in the water for over an hour, but it was a miracle just the same. I promise not to stay on my soapbox for too long…but you really should read up on some of your family history. I’m sure you could find some amazing stories of your own! That’s part of the reason I started this blog. I want to remember the funny, silly, day-to-day stuff that is lost (like the king doesn’t have to wear pants!) unless someone takes the time to write it down. Do me a favor…take a minute and write down something fun that happened this summer. Make it like a school assignment. Just save it in a file somewhere on your computer and call the folder “Family History.” If you do that once a week, even a few lines, someday you will be so glad you did. It’s been a little over six months since we started this blog and just looking back is so much fun! Just do it … (I sound like Nike)…become a historian for the next generation.

Guest Blog: Spiritual Insight by Princess

Today I got to do some something fun. I went to the Manti Temple with Dad, Dog Walker, Prima Donna, and Grandpa. Grandma C had some family names that needed to be done. The Manti Temple’s Baptistry is much different from the one my sister and I are used to going to. It is a lot smaller, less busy, and it wasn’t as calm or peaceful. I didn’t feel the same as I did in my temple and it worried me. It wasn’t until I was sitting in a tiny room and my grandpa was saying a prayer with his hands on my head that I felt something.

It wasn’t a feeling of peace; it was a kick from my sister sitting on the chair across from me. I opened my eyes and hers were closed, trying to look innocent even as a huge grin spread across her face. Right then I realized that if it weren’t for the power of the priesthood, I’d be dead, and my little sister, who was sitting across from me, would be doing my names. She would have been in the dressing room alone, she would have my room, my clothes, my toys… My treasured items wouldn’t be there, they would be in stores or trees, waiting to be turned into paper, and then masterpieces… by someone else. If I weren’t here, you wouldn’t be reading this.

How would the people around me have been affected if I had died that day? My friends, my family, my future husband…how would their lives be different? Would my best friend be happy? Would my husband marry someone else?

Bossy thinks she is funny.

Now I just want to point out that I DID die (something I am very proud of and am seriously considering putting on my resume!). I wonder what happened when I did. I want to hope I found my great-grandparents, who were already dead, and asked them what to do. I want to think that my great-grandpa, who drowned, told me his story and helped me decide to return to my family. I want to think my children were there, and explained to me that I needed to go back home so they could join me some day. I hope my siblings that weren’t born told me about all the fun we would have together, and the special moments we would share.

My awesome dance friends at C & C

I came back for a couple of reasons. I needed to live out my life. I needed to have trials and fun times, and learn to dance. I needed to get married and raise my family. But one of the most important reasons is because I needed to come back so my autistic brother wouldn’t blame himself for killing me. I love my brother. Nate, I’m so glad you put me in that bathtub. I’m glad you gave me that experience and made me the person I am today. I love you.

~ Princess

Noticed the church pew and did a double take? Go read this story.

World Traveler

Grandpa likes to think of himself as a world traveler, but his favorite thing to do is visit family. I have one brother and his family in Chiba, Japan, and my oldest brother and his wife and daughter live in Christchurch, New Zealand. They both teach at the University of Canterbury in Christchurch and my niece attends one of the best schools. She’s an amazingly smart child, probably because both of her parents have PhDs. 
  

http://www.canterbury.ac.nz/

So 75-year-old Grandpa hopped on an airplane the first part of February and spent 18 miserable hours trying to sleep as he traveled halfway around the world for a visit. He was so excited to see the sites he had missed on his last trip. It was vacation time for my brother so he and Grandpa got to spend plenty of time together visiting the local sites and going to the beach. 

Christchurch Beaches: Governor's Bay

A couple of days before he was scheduled to fly home, they headed into downtown Christchurch. Grandpa wanted to buy some souvenirs for the grandkids so they ended up in Cathedral Square. Cathedral Square is in the very center of Christchurch and is bordered by a beautiful cathedral with stained glass windows. After visiting this amazing building and several other historic sites, they ended up in a little gift shop. Grandpa bought a little stuffed lamb for Baby Doll, a recorder for Curly, a baton for Scout, a hat for Sport, and socks for the three medium-aged girls. He also picked up things for the other grandkids and great-grandkids. 

Christchurch Cathedral

He was excited about his purchases as they drove back to the suburbs. He only had one more free day and they still hadn’t decided how to spend it. They got up bright and early the next morning. It was Tuesday, February 22. "What do you want to do today?" my brother asked. His wife was back at work and his daughter was at school. "More shopping? We can go back to that same little place in Cathedral Square." Grandpa agreed and they climbed in the car. About 10 minutes into the drive, my brother started getting a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "You know," he said, "I don’t think we should go downtown today. Let’s drive out in the country instead." 

They turned the car around and headed in the opposite direction. An hour or two later, a 6.3 magnitude earthquake struck the Canterbury region of New Zealand’s South Island. It totally destroyed the little shop they were planning to visit. It made a huge mess of Cathedral Square. Had my brother and Grandpa not listened to that little voice telling them to get out of town, there is a good possibility they would be dead right now. As it turned out, they had only minor inconveniences…bottles broke in their pantry, the fish tank sloshed water all over the floor, and a statue was broken. 

Reconstruction begins on the spire.

Grandpa was awakened to some pretty good shaking during an aftershock. He also missed his flight home and had to stay long hours in the airport. It’s amazing how quickly life can change! And following one little gut check can make all the difference. At least he didn’t take my advice and make a stopover in Japan on his way home. Then he could have shared a major earthquake with both of my brothers! (By the way, Guys, this competition thing has finally gone just a little too far…) Glad you are all safe!  Love and prayers to you both…Sandy and the clan

Current photos of Chiba, Japan a major oil refinery is on fire.

 **Editor's Note: If you have family in Japan you can use Google's Crisis Services 2011 Japan page to locate or provide information on family abroad.  This page also had up to the minute alerts, blackout information and other resources.

Pain and Triumph

I have fat genes and I have fat jeans! Unfortunately for me, thunder thighs seem to run in my family. I’ve been on dozens of diets, but losing weight is definitely one of the hardest things I’ve never managed to do.

When I was pregnant with number 4 I was borderline gestational diabetes. I was unhappy and unhealthy. The scales tipped past the 300 mark and my baby was born at 10 lbs 1 ½ oz. She was beautiful and healthy, but she looked like she was 3 months old rather than a newborn. I managed to drop back below that ugly number, but then I got pregnant again. Number 5 was 9 lbs 2 oz. This trend just couldn’t continue.

It was about that time that we started building a new house in a new neighborhood. I was excited to learn that church sports included volleyball. My sweetie agreed to join me on the co-ed team. I loved to play, but my weight made it difficult for me to move quickly around the court. I tried my best, but one Thursday night I moved toward the ball, heard a small "pop," and that was it. I couldn’t stand up! My knee was totally gone.

My hubby got to me first. He and a neighbor pulled me upright but I had no control over that leg and nearly collapsed. They moved me to the sidelines and then eventually to our car. I had torn my ACL and the only way to repair it was surgery. It was 1995 and the surgical techniques were not as advanced as they are now. I was forced to choose between a cadaver and my own hamstring for the repair. Since I was not excited about the thoughts of someone’s dead body part in me, I chose my hamstring. That was my first mistake!

It is still painful… No one mentioned that it would be a year before I would be able to have mobility without pain. That I would have to wear a brace for months…that crutches were difficult when you had a two-year-old crying and wanting to be picked up. As lousy as the recovery proved to be, one good thing happened…I lost weight! Lots of weight! Over 40 pounds!

It was just too hard to drag myself to the kitchen to get food during the day and I had to rely on someone else to take care of me at night. I managed to keep that weight off and it has made all the difference in how good I feel and how much exercise I can do. The knee still aches when the weather changes, and I have lovely scars that run up the front of my leg, but as far as diets go, it was the one that worked the best.