Makes Me Thankful . . .

for Loki. Suddenly he doesn't seem quite so annoying.

A Few Personal Letters

Dear Emma: Thank you for your wit and humour. Thanks for feeling like you can vent to me. I'm glad we're sisters. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

Dear Jenn: Thanks for being my friend. I'm glad we've started walking together (assuming the weather will allow us to go again). I need someone to motivate me to get off my lazy rear end and kick me into gear. I love your creativity and goodness.

Dear Loki: Please stop meowing so loudly. It's really irritating. Why don't you just curl upon my lap and purr?

Dear Jenny: Please stop kicking the wall and just go to sleep.

Dear James: Thank you for sleeping through the night. You are the best baby ever.

Dear Cottonwood Title: Thanks for the money.

Dear Bono: Thank you for much comfort and inspiration over many years.

Dear neighborhood: I'm glad you're safe and full of people I like.

Dear Brent: Please come home and cook dinner. I love you. And you're dead sexy. Especially when you're cooking dinner.

Dear House: Why can't you just learn to clean yourself?

Dear Laundry: ditto

Dear Rocky Mountains: how I love you. I love your fall colours. I'm not sure why I love the colour of decay, but in Autumn it is just gorgeous. Let's get together soon. How about a leisurely walk in your loveliness this weekend?

Dear Mom: I love your cooking. I love your company. I love your house. I love you.

Dear Jess: I wish I was more like you. I know you aren't perfect and have your own struggles, but you inspire me to improve myself. You have a spirit about you that is calming and nurturing. Thank you for being in my life.

Dear NPR: Thank you for keeping me sane and preventing me from slipping so deeply into mommydom that I forget who I am. Also I thank you for giving me something to talk about with other adults other than the most recent developmental milestone achieved by my children.

Dear Blogger: Why do you insist on adding more spaces between paragraphs than I want? I don't know how to fix it because I am html ignorant. Please stop trying to be smarter than me (like Microsoft Word) and just do what I ask without additional formatting that I do not ask for.

Dear Father in Heaven: Thank you for my life. I know I complain a lot, but I am awfully grateful for my endless blessings.

Happy Birthday Jenny

Not this Jenny:



That Jenny is actually a namesake for this Jenny:




Today is Jennifer Alicia Neddo's 31st birthday. At least, it would be if she hadn't been killed by a drunk driver 14 years ago. (Deseret News coverage of the accident here.)

14 years.

I can't believe it's been that long.

Jenny was my best friend. She was kind, good, loving, creative, and fun. And she had amazing hair. She was like a sister to me, and when I lost her it was like losing half myself. The bulk of my childhood memories are of things I did or imagined with her. She was a good example to me and I believe I was and am a better person than I would have been without her in my life.

We are 13 years old in this picture, taken after coming in from playing in the rain.

There are lots of stories I could tell you about her. Suffice it to say that I loved her. Still do, in fact.

Happy birthday Jen, Jenn, Jenny, Jennie (she liked to rotate her name spelling), also known as Bob.

It's been 14 years since I've seen you, and I still miss you.

More Jenny Conversation

[We drive away from the Homestead and wave to Grandpa, who is standing in the front yard.]

Jenny: That was a Grandpa. I love him.

Mama: I love him too.

Jenny: I love him too.

Mama: And I love him too.

Jenny: I love him too. I love him too. I love him too.

Mama: Do you love him too?

Jenny: Yes. [pause] I want a treat.

We Miss Brent

Brent's been out of town again this week. He gets home tonight around 2130-2200, but since that's after Jenny's bedtime I told her he's coming home tomorrow.

This morning when I got her up the very first words out of her mouth were "Daddy go?"

Here was our conversation:

Jenny: Daddy go?

Mama: He's in Connecticut. He'll be home tomorrow.

Jenny: And I can hold him.

Mama: Yes

Jenny: And I can hold Daddy.

Mama: Yes

Jenny: Daddy come home and I can hold DADDY!

We miss our man.

Delightful

I've been watching Cranford on DVD today. It's a British mini-series with an all-star cast, made in 2007.

It's simple and simply delightful. The acting is wonderful and the writing excellent.

It's about a small English town (that has more than its fair share of single ladies of ascending age) and the goings-on of the townsfolk. Such gentle catastrophes are depicted as to make me smile frequently, occasionally laugh out loud, and even weep once in a while.

It's about people. People who are foolish, selfish, kind, giving, and loving. It's about longing, loving, friendship, and family. It is just wonderful.

Here are two of my favourite lines from one of my favourite characters, a Mrs. Pole (one of the single ladies of ascending age).

"This is no time for sport! There is lace at stake!"

"Men. They're all the same. My father was a man, so I think I understand the sex."

If you like English things and/or tasteful and extremely well written comedy that is simultaneously sweet, check it out. You'll be glad you did. And if you don't like it, then it's because you don't get it and you shouldn't take recommendations from me because clearly we don't have the same taste.

Where'd the Consideration Go?

Public Rant.

I have these wonderful neighbors across the street. I really like them. I do not, however, like it when they throw big parties because inevitably someone parks in front of our driveway.

We have had to ring the doorbell and request the Offending Party to remove their vehicle on more than one occasion.

My neighbor later apologizes and says something like "Ah, if it ever happens again, just call the cops and have them towed."

I'd love to, but first of all that would take too long, and secondly, despite what my neighbor says, I think that might end badly and I don't want to jeopardize my relationship with them.

So the last time this happened Brent had the Offending Party move their car. Many apologies followed. What was he supposed to say? "Oh, that's all right. Feel free. I don't mind."?

After she moved her car she asked him if she could go back and park there again. He said no, that he was leaving again in a half hour and would be in and out all evening.

She asked "Then where can I park?"

Umm. Gee. Let's think about that now. How about ANYWHERE ON THE STREET THAT ISN'T IN FRONT OF MY DRIVEWAY? So sorry if it mean you'll have to walk an extra 20 yards.

Later that night when we came home the parking lot in front of our house was gone. Apparently the party was over. However, it had left its mark.

Our mailbox was no longer in the erect position it had been a couple of hours before.

Grr.