Just Trying to Help a Friend

As many of you know, my BFF Vern and I have been involved in a bit of prank war that has lasted well over ten years. Vern had the last go when she gift wrapped everything in my fridge while I was out of town. Today I decided to provide some improvements to her car. While she was at church. (I think you can be a good person, even if you play a prank on someone while they are preoccupied at church, dontcha think?)


Of course, being the good friend that I am, I started out by doing some service. Her back window was awfully dirty. (BB#2 took some of these pitchers, so they are a tad blurry.)
Once her window was all clean, it looked a little plain. I figured I would jazz it up with some decals.
When it was all done, I thought it looked pretty good. Definitely an improvement.

Each decal was selected carefully to reflect Casa de Vern. (For those of you who know Vern, she has two kids, but I figured that she probably has extra kids just hanging around. And I'm sure there's been a rooster in the yard at least once - maybe.) I'm particularly fond of how Cory is so proud that "My wife is HOT!"

Despite the fact that I was done working on her car by 1:00 this afternoon, she didn't notice until after 5:00. It leaves me a little concerned that her teenage driver wasn't checking her rear view mirror very well.

I can't take too much credit for this. I really just copied the prank that Dodi, Martha and the other Parkview ladies pulled on Tracy. But it was SOOO clever, I just knew it was perfect for Vern.

I did make Vern promise to leave the decals on for at least a little while.

Memory Lane

As we were driving into Utah Valley at the beginning of our vacation, Big Boy #1 spotted the "Y" (for BYU) on the side of the mountain next to campus. He said he wanted to hike up sometime during our trip. So, on the fourth of July, Diamond and I took the kids up.

Even though our niece and nephew Adrienne and Jake live only 20 minutes away from the Y, they had never been up, so we took them too. And we just made our other nephew Michael come along for fun. He was not a fan of hiking - but he managed to get up to the top.

I had only been up to the Y one other time. My freshmen orientation group went up the week before classes began in August 1990. (See below) I remember breathing hard as I adjusted to the thin mountain air of Utah. Somehow the hike didn't feel any easier this time around. Maybe adding twenty years is about the same handicap as adjusting from sea level?

Diamond had also been up once before, freshmen year on a hike with his girlfriend Julie. (Here is Diamond in 1988.)

No too much has changed; other than that we are now married and have three kids. OK, a LOT has changed.

While we were town, my old college roommate Kristi also happened to be in town visiting family. We were able to meet up and took the kids to a movie at Movies 8 (and talked through the entire thing.) On our way back from the movie, we decided to stop by our old apartment. And why wouldn't we knock on the door and ask the current resident for a tour?

Kristi and I in our shared bedroom in 1993. We made a tape line, dividing our room in half at one point, just to be stupid. (We did stupid a lot back in college.)

And here we are back in the same exact room, seventeen years later.

Back in the old kitchen:

You can see the old kitchen in the background of this picture of all our roommates. Kristi's in front and I'm in back.

Whenever we spend time in our old college town the memories flutter in and out. But this trip hiking the Y and touring our old apartment was crazy fun. It was almost surreal to be back in those places with my kids and husband. SUCH a good time!

Live Audience Friday

Yea, I'm pretty much famous. First when I won Last Caller of the Day by telling my story on Mix 100 of how my car ran over an unmanned lawnmower. Then again when I was on the radio as part of Live Audience Friday.

It was Kristy's 40th birthday this past November and she had been wanting to be part of the Live Audience for a long time. So we made reservations for the four of us as part of our gift to her.

Although it looks like I was pretty much dissed in this picture, it really was a fabulous (early) morning with my favorite girls and Dom & Jane.

I'm Baaaaaccck!

With my recent release from Relief Society, a lot of my friends have been asking if I am enjoying all the down time. What??? There is no down time. I've been working my butt off trying to get prepped for my new teaching position.

Even though I have taught Introduction to Sociology before, I've never written a syllabus, or taught it in a two days a week format, or used PowerPoint as the main presentation tool. (I was using an overhead projector!) I've been working a lot of very late nights trying to figure out all the new technology and get everything in place in time for my first class.

Go figure I was a bit nervous about everything (OK, maybe more than a bit). After all, it's been five years since I've been in the classroom. Tuesday morning, the day of my first class I woke up to find this:


I faithfully waited until I was at school to read Big Boy #1's note. Here is part of it:

"You love this, act like it's for fun and it will be fun." What great advice! Once all the technology was up and working OK I tried to just settle into it.

I have to say, it didn't take long at all to feel like I had never really left. It felt soooo good to be back in the classroom, back in my skin, back to the thing that I love and that I know.

I'm baaaacck!

Change is Good - right???

*Caution: This post may not make too much sense to anyone who is not at least somewhat familiar with Mormonese (ya know, that unique vocabulary that we tend to use when talking about church things.) But if you can make it through the first paragraph, consider yourself suitably knowledgeable.

Last Sunday our ward split, creating a totally new ward. As part of that split, I was officially released from my calling as the Relief Society President. It's a job I have been doing for the last three years, serving over 150 women.

The question is, how do you pour your whole soul into loving, serving and caring for these amazing women, then just walk away? So many of these families will be attending a different ward now and things will be, well, different. (This picture was taken at the end of our last meeting.)

When I was first asked to serve as the RS President I had only been in the ward for four short months. I didn't know hardly anyone. Now I not only know them but I love them. I see them as warriors, as angels and as heroes. I was able to get in the trenches with these women and then marvel at what they did. Without a doubt I am a better person because of the opportunity I had to watch these amazing, faithful women in action.

I also came to know my Savior in a totally new way. I was able to taste just a smidgen of the love He has for the women whom I served. I learned about the atonement, about grace, about faith, about sacrifice and about service. I have felt my soul enlarge and stretch and grow. This calling has been one of the hardest things I have ever done, but growth never comes without a price.

I have worked with countless women in this capacity and if I try to list them I am certain to leave someone out. But I can't not specifically mention my presidencies. These three women are the poor souls who had to hold my hand during the early, very steep, learning curve.
*Margo thinks about things is such a cool and unique way. I could sit and learn from her for hours and hours.
*Jill is so organized and is such a practical, yet warm woman. She is insightful, thoughtful and wise.
*Katherine kept me organized and in check. She worked with me the entire three years and always seemed to be the voice of reason when I started getting a little too crazy.

But things don't stay the same for very long and eventually I had to replace both Margo and Jill. (Poor Katherine couldn't get away!)
*Lovely, soft, warm Susan joined me about halfway. Susan was my greatest cheerleader, always kind and so willing to love and watch over the women.
*Carolyn is a fabulous balance between gospel centered and feet on the ground practical. She took so much off my plate, all the while asking what more she could do.

And here is my Bishop. He was the one who would meet me at the hospital when something terrible happened. I have to admit that every time I saw his number come up on caller ID my heart would skip a beat - worried about what awful thing he would tell me this time. But I also I remember the times we would meet together with someone who had been struggling. I saw this man love, counsel and care for so many people throughout the time we served together. I have worked with him, worried with him and cried with him. Bishop always made me feel listened to. He cared about what I thought, what my opinions were and how my family was holding up. He is such a good man.

Diamond was my rock. He held together our family while I was off trying to hold up someone else. He let me cry, even in the middle of the night, and would take me away when I was desperate for respite. He championed me at every turn and told me over and over that I was doing a great job - whether it was true or not. What a true blessing this man has been to me.

But now it's Diamond's turn. Last week he was called as first counselor in the new bishopric in our newly formed ward. He's the one having the lengthy meetings now. He's been out almost every night this week to meet with members of our ward and he's the one who has the weight of responsibility.

While there is a part of me that aches at the thought of being released, it's time. Frankly, I'm just so thrilled to be able to take my turn at home. It's a good thing. Right?

Hired!

Back in February Diamond saw a part-time sociology instructor position that had opened up at the local community college. It sounded like the dream job for me, so I put in a resume and waited.

In April I got an email saying that they would be interviewing in the next month or so. Then I didn't hear from them again.

Until last Friday. I saw the caller-ID come up and thought "No. It couldn't be." The department chair was calling to see if I would still be interesting in the adjunct sociology position. "Um, YES!"

So today I went in to interview. To be honest, it wasn't much of an interview at all. It was more like "Here's your textbook, here's your classroom, here's HR."

I GOT THE JOB!!!

I start the middle of January and I'll be teaching three sections of Sociology 101. My schedule couldn't be more ideal. I teach just two mornings a week. Meanwhile the Caboose has preschool those same days. I'll be finished up in time for afternoon carpool. How perfect is THAT?

This truly couldn't be better. My favorite class, a perfect schedule, great timing. Yeah!!!

You can just start calling me Professor Ganelle ;)

Angels

Sometimes the responsibility of watching over more than 150 women overwhelms me in ways I can't even begin to articulate.

Sometimes I feel like the weight of other people's sorrow is so heavy I'm likely to buckle under it.

Sometimes I will spend a day visiting, crying with, and listening to women, only to come home and have a message or email informing me about one more awful, devastating thing.

Sometimes I feel like it's just too much. Too big. Too heavy.

Being intimate with other people's pain is beyond hard, and it has changed me.

I have a unique vantage into other peoples lives. I see the heartbreak and I hate that part. Hate. It. But I suppose that because I have been so close to the pain, I have also been privy to the grace.

I have seen how there can be peace in the middle of the storm, and how God can give us beauty for ashes.

I have seen something that can only be described as magic when these women come together.

I have witnessed dazzling strength
.....inexplicable power,

.....pure goodness,

.....unwavering faith,

.....breathtaking love.

I have seen saints. And warriors. And heroes. Often all in the same person.

I see the marks of angels all around me.


And that has made me a better person.

The Miracle of the Beef Brisket

For well over two and a half years now I have been serving as the president of my church's women's organization. I have been entrusted to watch over the physical/mental/spiritual needs of over 150 women. This isn't something I volunteered for, desired, or even remotely wanted, but I was asked to do it and I said yes. It has been quite the undertaking and the weight of the responsibility has been heavy. As much a survival mechanism as anything, I learned pretty early on that a freezer full of frozen meals was a huge help in my efforts to support others. Every now and then I would spend an entire day making meals that I could freeze and then later distribute at a moments notice. Right or wrong, I tend be more generous when the work has already been done and it requires nothing more than pulling something out of the freezer.

But last fall my personal stockpile had completely dwindled away and I had nothing to give, and no time (or energy) to restock my supplies. Meanwhile, I was feeling more than a tad overwhelmed by all the different needs that I was aware of. Several of the situations were known to only a very few people, which added to the responsibility I felt. I wanted to offer some kind of relief for these women, but I didn't know what. Normally, I would have stopped by a frozen dinner or two "for whatever night is particularly tough," but I just wasn't situated to do so. I keenly felt a need to do something for these women, and felt both frustrated and discouraged by all that I was not doing.

Then I went to our ward fall party. The committee who put the party together had recruited a member of our congregation to prepare and serve beef brisket to 350+ people. (As an aside - this guy is amazing. He grew up on a cattle ranch, takes his BBQ seriously, and even enters competitions with the meat he prepares. This brisket was good.) At the end of the night, there was a ton of meat left over, and I was able to bag it up, deliver it to multiple families and still come home with enough brisket to refill my freezer.

As I was driving home after the last of my deliveries, I began a silent prayer to thank my Heavenly Father for providing for all of these different families. Then it hit me.

Those people who received the brisket were certainly grateful for the meals. Having dinner brought in was genuinely helpful. But it was my burden that was lifted. I had been feeling like the weight and the care of those families was entirely on my shoulders. But that night I began to understand that I'm not in this alone. That God is there to help me and sustain me as I do my best to love and serve His other children. I had been trying to shoulder the weight on my own - and that is simply not how God works. He had asked me to do this job, and He was there to compensate for what I couldn't do. I cried the rest of the way home.

I refer to it as the Miracle of the Beef Brisket.

Fast forward to today. Once again there are several families that I am aware of who are having a hard time. People who could use both the logistical and emotional support that a dinner can provide. Once again, my freezer was bare and I was not situated to refill it. And then there was another miracle.

The teenage girls in our ward each pitched in a few ingredients and spent an evening putting together some meals. I took in over fifteen meals this afternoon and my freezer is now overflowing. Tomorrow I plan on making some deliveries.

It may not be the miracle of the fishes and the loaves of bread, but God has taken the little I had to offer and has given back more than enough to meet the needs of these families. But this miracle is my miracle. My personal witness that God is there to lighten my burden, to sustain me and to be my partner in this incredible work.

Class of 1990

See the person on the left of the page with the red circle around their head, and a fist covering their face? Well, that's me, twenty years ago. And this picture is Fairport High School's class of 1990.

Tonight is our 20th reunion. And I'm not going.

It's not that I didn't have fun at prom:

It's not that I didn't enjoy graduation:

It's more that I just don't really care.

While I had plenty of friends in my class, my closest friends all seemed to be a year ahead or behind me - if they attended FHS at all .

.

I'd love to be a fly on the wall and just watch everyone, but I don't really want to expend the energy to actually speak to these people. Plus? It's in NY, and there is NO way I'm putting out the cash for a trip to Rochester. 'Course, even if I was in town, I doubt I would go. I just wasn't all that into high school.

I'm hoping that people will post pictures on Facebook so I can see how the night went. Wait! I think I deleted most of my FHS friends from Facebook awhile ago.

See what I mean?

Carpool Craziness

THIS kid begins school at 7:25 and finishes at 2:45.

But THIS kid doesn't start school until 9:05. He is done at 4:00.

And even THIS kid has a school schedule to be worked in, beginning at 8:45 and winding up at 1:45 (3x a week.)

It takes over an hour and half each morning to see all the kids off to school, and it takes another two hour window to get them home. Umm, I don't think so.

After more collaboration and negotiation than the Israelis and the Palestinians have ever managed, I am now involved in THREE separate carpool schedules, made up of NINE different families.

Should we start laying bets now as to how long it will be before I blow it, and leave some poor child waiting on a curb somewhere???

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On a related note: BB#1 is loving middle school. "It's not what I expected and it's waaaay different from 5th grade, but in a good way." BB#2 is concerned that the boys in his class may not like sports enough, and the Caboose keeps explaining to me that girls have no business whatsoever sitting next to the boys during circle time. Things seem to be proceeding pretty much as expected. Very good.

The Fab One

I think everyone has their favorite of the Fab Four. (Probably everyone but Vern, who disparages any music created before 1985.)

My favorite was Paul. And last night Paul McCartney and I spent three hours together. (OK, technically, Paul, me and 20,000 other people.)

Diamond was able to land last-minute tickets to his Up and Coming Tour from a guy at work. We started out with these seats, five rows from the very top, which would have provided us with a lovely view of a pole and Paul's backside.

Then, through some crazy twist of fortune we were upgraded from section 352 to section 106; these seats:

We were SO excited!

The thing with Paul McCartney is that his music is transcendent. For every sixty year old bald guy singing there was a twenty-something playing air guitar. His music is bigger than any one age group or decade. He is so much more than a rock star. He is a musician. An icon. I have written papers about his music and the cultural influence of the Beatles.

Paul started with a bunch of his personal songs before settling into the Beatles hits. He sang Hey Jude, Back in the USSR, Paperback Writer, All My Loving, Live or Let Die, Yesterday, Eleanor Rigby, etc. He played the piano, a million different guitars and even a ukulele. He sang with a band, but also had a few numbers with nothing more than him and his guitar. It was an experience of a lifetime. Here is a sample of Let It Be.

It was A.MAZ.ING. I love, love, loved it! I saw Paul McCartney! Live! I heard him sing Beatles Music! I sang along, danced and screamed until I was hoarse. I love you PAUL!!!

Who's the Ugliest of Them All?

My BFF, Vern, is having an ugliest picture contest on her blog. The winner will receive a $10 Olive Garden gift certificate - perfect for a lunch.

While I'm pretty sure this picture makes me a shoe-in, please stop by here and cast your vote for me. 'Cause I pretty much live for Olive Garden bread sticks. (No joke - when Diamond proposed, he put my ring in an Olive Garden "to go" box.)

I think the real question we need to ask is, why my mom ordered this in an 8x10?

Old Friend

I saw one of my best friends from high school today. She lives in Maryland, and I haven't seen her for TEN years. (Geography has not been kind to us!)

Shanna is one of my oldest friends. We became friends when her family moved to New York - well over twenty-five years now. She holds my high school secrets, and her parents were like my own.

Shanna and I both worked at Wegmans and were both exchange students (I went to Norway, she went to Sweden.) She was there for my first, and second, loves - and I returned the favor. We took art classes together in high school, and skipped those same art class together. We were bunk mates at Youth Conference and on Temple Trips.

Shanna was a year behind me in school, but the day I graduated from High School - she was there to cheer me on:

I was Shanna's bride's maid in April 1994:

Less than two weeks later, at the same temple, we switched places. (OK, I realize now that, despite the popularity of floral dresses in the 1990s, I should have opted for a solid color, like Shanna did.)

She visited me while I was at BYU. Even after we were both married I was able to visit her a couple times in Maryland. This picture was taken in August 1997, Shanna was pregnant with her second child. She now has three girls, I have three boys.

So today we sat in a park at talked. We chatted about our parents and siblings, our kids, our communities, our travels. We talked about what was hard, what was funny and what worried us for the future. We didn't talk too much about old times, but why would we? We just picked up right where we were. What an amazing gift. Love that girl!