The Tale You Tell

Careful the things you say,

Children will listen.

Careful the things you do,

Children will see.

And learn.

Children may not obey,

But children will listen.

Children will look to you

For which way to turn,

To learn what to be.

Careful before you say, "Listen to me."

Children will listen.

Careful the wish you make,

Wishes are children.

Careful the path they take,

Wishes come true,

Not free.

Careful the spell you cast,

Not just on children.

Sometimes the spell may last

Past what you can see

And turn against you...

Careful the tale you tell.

That is the spell.

Children will listen…

This is from one of my favorite musicals, Into the Woods. As a single adult, I listened to these lyrics repeatedly. The line children may not obey, but children will listen haunted me. It did and still does bring a lump to my throat. What a simple yet profound statement. Can we ever be truly aware of how much our actions and words influence others? Careful the spell you cast, not just on children. Especially when we don’t know they’re watching us closely…

Like you, I usually go through life oblivious to how often people are actually observing me. Oh sure, we know that our friends, family, co-workers, boss, the girl scanning our groceries, and even strangers on the street interact with us and form an opinion based upon their experience. But what they DON’T tell you is what they think while watching us silently. If you are lucky enough, people will share with you those feelings. I have found that to be the exception and not the rule though. So I am always pleasantly surprised when someone trusts me enough to open up and voice their true feelings to me.

Just yesterday I was sent these thoughts within a very touching e-mail:

“I just needed to let you know that I LOVE your blog! Every time I see on Facebook that you have posted something new on your blog, I have to read it. I love that you are real and don't sugar coat life. Life, marriage and family are all really difficult, but most of us don't vocalize it- so thanks for being the voice for all of us! I have always watched you from a distance (you probably never knew this!) and have wanted to have your infectious smile and outgoing personality. I am grateful to call you a friend and have learned from your example!!”

It still brings tears to my eyes reading these sweet words. I really never knew, and am so grateful this person had the courage to tell me. I have mentioned before that one of my main reasons for blogging is to give a voice to those that aren’t able to for whatever reason. My patriarchal blessing states that when I share my thoughts and feelings, others will be willing and ready to listen and will be strengthened themselves. The context was about my testimony, but I feel that all these topics (life/gospel, marriage, family) make up what a testimony is.

I truly hope that in some small way on here I can fulfill this sort of calling. And I hope that the tale I tell is a good one.


- Posted from my iPhone

Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie

OK, please don't mind the late-night lighting or the caramelized sugar on top or the non-professional presentation because this pie is AMAZING!!!!

Rhubarb is very tart, so you have to use sugar to balance it out. If it's Spring, less sugar is probably OK. If you are in the middle of Summer, more sugar is needed.


2 cups of sugar (at least - I used two and it was nice and tart, but I like tart)
2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp grated orange peel (optional - I did not use this)
3 cups of 1/2 inch pieces of fresh and washed rhubarb (you might need to cut some stalks down the middle)
3 cups fresh, washed, and sliced strawberries
1 Tbsp butter (optional - I did not use this either)

1. Heat oven to 425 degrees. Make or obtain a two-crust pie pastry (Recipe coming later). You can find them easily enough in the grocery store, just make sure it is for a TWO-crust pie.

2. Mix sugar, flour, and orange peel (optional) in large mixing bowl. Stir in rhubarb and strawberries. Turn into pastry-lined pie plate. Cut butter (optional) into small pieces and sprinkle over mixture.

3. Cover with top pastry and cut slits into it. Seal and flute the edges. I brushed the top crust with water and sprinkled sugar on top (soooooo good). I didn't read that this would brown easier, and that you are supposed to place a piece of foil lightly on top while it bakes. :/

4. Cover edges with a 3-inch strip of aluminum foil. The easiest way to make this is to start with a 12" piece of foil. Fold it into fourths, and cut the open corner (the only one with no crease) to round it off, making a circle of foil. While it is still folded into fourths, cut a strip along the curve 3 inches from the rounded edge. Discard the center, unfold the strip, and gently mold to the edge of the pie.

4. Bake 40 minutes and remove foil. Bake another 10-15 minutes or until crust is golden brown and juice begins to bubble through the slits.

5. Cool on wire rack at least 2 hours. This is important as the juices will run otherwise (as I found out). You can always warm a piece up in the microwave if you love warm pie like I do. :)

These Dreams...

OK, I know you are thinking, “another dream blog?” Yes.
I am a dreamer. I have vivid, detailed dreams that don’t often give me the nudge that I am dreaming, even when bits of my reality (shows I watched recently usually) poke through. I have woken up sobbing, terrified, laughing, and even moaning (yes, I said it) from the intense emotions I experience during my dreams. I usually write down the ones I remember, as I figure they contain at least some shred of relevance to my life. I have always been right about that. Even if it isn’t immediately apparent, I am able to glean understanding at some point about something in the dream. Last night might be an exception though…

Maybe I should begin with a little background. I am fascinated with several things. To name a few: graveyards, old buildings/towns/cities, southern mansions, water, dance, and anything British. I recently watched The King's Speech and absolutely loved it. It is a true story and I highly recommend it with the caveat of it being rated ‘R’ for swearing only. One of the main characters, Prince Albert (the current Queen’s (Elizabeth II) father), has a stammer. He works with a speech therapist who utilizes unusual methods for treatment of speech impediments i.e. swearing. It takes place in the mid-1930s which allowed me to get a glimpse of “modern” royalty in England. It’s easy enough to imagine kings and queens during medieval times. But picturing one wearing a suit, and having a stammer, makes him all the more real to me. You can read more about “Bertie” here.

The second bit of background is that I used to be a VIP Tour Guide at Disneyland. I am contemplating writing my memoirs of that wonderful time. But the point here is that famous people and even royalty are not exempt from appearing in my dreams because I had the privilege of getting to meet and know some. The biggest lesson I learned is that they are people too. Take them out of context and they are just like you and me. That was how I HAD to see and treat them while at the park in order to be the best Guide I could be. They didn’t want a rabid fan, or a fussing publicist, or a timid Park ambassador. As a result, I got to know them as people. We would have conversations about what books we liked to read, or what TV shows we loved, or what their son’s poop looked like that morning (not joking). They not only insisted I join them for lunch, but offered me a bite of what they were eating. Anyway, I digress.

Back to the dream.

My Monday morning mind is a little fuzzy around the edges, so I don’t quite remember how it began. It was about Prince Albert’s eldest great-grandson, Prince William. As a teenager, I thought he was dreamy and was glad he looked more like his mother than his father. Even as an adult with his receding hairline (poor guy) he is handsome. I, like millions of others world-wide, watched the Royal Wedding and giggled hearing him talk. I love English accents. Fortunately for me, he and I both were single in this dream. I was still a VIP Guide at Disney, and he was visiting the States with his Grandmother, the Queen (played in my dream by Helena Bonham Carter who also played the wife of Prince Albert in the film). This was the 1930s (bit of my reality again) and everyone was accordingly dressed. For some reason the three of us were on a city bus (not a limo?), and sitting at the back no less. I was in my plaid by the window, William was in a dapper suit on my left in the middle, and Elizabeth was all furs and pearls on his left. We had become acquainted with each other prior to this moment, and were speaking in a friendly way. We were approaching our destination, and I was providing instruction as to how we were going to proceed off the bus and into the venue. I must have been speaking too loudly, because when I said the word, “VIP” William ducked his head down out of view and became quite cross with me. He was trying to maintain a low profile and didn’t want the other passengers alerted to him being on board. I was embarrassed that I had inadvertently exposed him, and was trying to explain myself by saying, “I am so sorry. I didn’t think…” at which point he cut me off and said, “No, you didn’t think, did you?!” I again tried to explain that he had a recognizable enough face so that nothing I said or did would be as conspicuous as him simply appearing anywhere public. This time, the Queen poked her head out from her furs and interrupted me by telling William, “It’s because she has no sense of propriety! I told you! She is too familiar with you, William.” Thankfully, he realized that I meant no harm and that they had been too harsh with me. He smiled at me and told me it was OK and to just be careful from now on. He even joked that maybe we should call him some sort of pseudonym in the meantime.

Our destination was a library. Once we got there, William was flirting with me the entire time. No one could miss the sideways glances, half-smiles, and blushing that kept occurring. I went in the bathroom to freshen up and touch up my make-up. I came out determined to get him alone somehow. I hid behind a corner of bookshelves and ducked down. He came looking for me, and leaned over to whisper something to me. I took the opportunity given to me, grabbed a hold of his coat lapels, and kissed him. He was surprised, but did not resist and kissed me back. It was brief, but sweet. He blushed, muttered something like, “people might see” and disappeared around the bookshelf.

Back on the bus, he and I were very cozy in our back corner as we snuggled under our own furs. He had thrown decorum out the window and wrapped both arms around me and would kiss my temple every once in a while. All this was much to the chagrin and disdainful looks of his Grandmother. She would “tsk, tsk” now and then and would try to remind William that he was indeed engaged to Kate still. Neither of us cared in our known, temporary bliss.

Later, after the tour was over, I discovered that he was gay but was nevertheless going to proceed with the marriage to Kate.

Wait. What? Prince William is gay?

I am stumped as to what this dream means. Obviously I am a romantic and the idea of a Prince falling madly in love with me is something most girls have dreamt of. So why did my mind take that turn? I don’t know. Maybe it was my explanation of why Prince William and I would never work out. Religious differences aside, it would have worked! Clearly, the only reason he could not marry me was because he is gay. ;)


- Posted from my iPhone

Bloom Where You Are Planted

Last night I dreamt that I was at a big gathering of various people I have known from camp, Disney, high school, etc. I was enjoying spending time with everyone, when something unexpected but not unwanted happened. The guy I had a major crush on in high school walked up behind me and simply said, “Jena.” For whatever reason, I had not planned on seeing him there. The way he said my name though, brought back a memory of a conversation that he and I had some time prior to this event. We had arranged that if he should show up, we would speak privately about some great new epiphany and outlook on life he now had. His hair was unkempt and he had three earrings: one thick, dime-sized loop in each ear, and some sort of round metal stud in just the left. It was odd, especially for him. This guy was and is a squeaky clean individual. I wanted to ask if he was still married, but couldn’t muster the courage to do so. At this point in my dream (you know how dreams are), I was single and hoping he was now available.

As we walked towards a tripped-out version of the Haunted Mansion I linked my arm through his and laid my head on his shoulder. Aside from the crush, he and I were very good friends in real life and this would not have been uncommon for me to do. After we finally boarded our omnimover and chatted for a bit about this and that, he informed me about his life-changing thought process. His mantra had become, “I want to have fun.” No matter what, he was determined to live a life full of fun (whatever that meant, including the earrings) and free of obligation or worries about consequences. This was not quite the earth-shaking revelation I expected. But he was still my crush and I hoped his new life was going to include me. During this “ride” and over the next few dream hours, I tried multiple times to tell him about my feelings for him. Something always interrupted me though. I became very frustrated at all these nuisances and kept trying to exit from whatever area we had stumbled into.

Dream cut to the chapel I went to as a kid. I was no longer single and was now married to Todd and had Rylin. I was still trying to talk to my crush as we sat on a table in the foyer. The interruptions this time came in the form of my husband and daughter smiling and approaching us. I introduced them to each other and then more children kept appearing that somehow were mine as well.

Dream cut to my current living room. I was now widowed :( and was playing on the floor with Rylin while my crush sat on the couch. Finally I was able to get the words out, but not quite how I intended. Things had changed, and now instead of trying to get him to admit his feelings for me, all I wanted was to know one thing. So I asked him, “Did you know how I felt about you while we were in high school?” He looked away and replied that he did. And that was it. That’s all I needed to hear. I didn’t need to ask, “Then why didn’t you do anything about it?” because I already knew. He never asked me out because he didn’t feel the same way. It would have been unkind to lead me on, knowing how I felt about him. He knew that I would make much more out of a simple date than was ever intended.

The dream morphed into something else, but I don’t quite know what that bit means.

So it’s time for a little introspection.

I hated high school. I want to say that I didn’t, but it would be untrue. My sophomore year I was madly in love with the student body president (who wasn’t?). He is NOT the crush from the dream by the way. I somehow made friends, hung out, and ate lunch with the seniors just to be friends with him too. I didn’t stalk him or anything, but I am sure my infatuation was painfully evident. Obviously, nothing ever came of it, but I still had fun that year. Funny thing now, he won’t friend me on Facebook. Seriously? It was more than 15 years ago, Dude. I got over you that summer.

At the beginning of my junior year, I had no friends in my class though and quickly realized what a mistake I had made. I rectified the situation, but not in time for my 16th birthday to not be a disaster. None of my new friends remembered it was my birthday. Birthdays were a big deal in this group of friends. They threw surprise parties and would sing loudly in choir and again at lunch. Nobody said a word all day. At lunch, my crush from last night’s dream asked how the wedding of my Mom and new Step-Dad went the night before. I still want to know why they picked the NIGHT BEFORE MY 16th BIRTHDAY to get married. Really?? Why?! It was a Wednesday night! Anyway, back to the reminiscing. After he asked me about the wedding, I burst into tears. He could remember that, but not my birthday. He asked what was wrong, and I managed to blubber out why I was so sad. He quickly got everyone to sing to me, but I did not have a ‘happy’ birthday at all.

I could go on and on about various other disappointments during this time, but those are stories for another time. The point here is that my bad memories outweigh the good. The best and shining moments come through in the true friends I had. He was one of them. He understood and was there for me whenever crap was happening at home. He never judged me like others did for not being able to show up to certain events because I was grounded for no good reason. He pushed and pulled me to be a better person and at the end of our senior year told me I had done the same for him.

We kept in touch over the pre-Facebook years and ran in to each other in college. He was happily married and about to go through a very long and difficult journey in school. I moved away to California but we still e-mailed every once in a while. Once I got engaged, I sent invitations to everyone I knew. I only expected half of them to actually show. Most everyone had been married for some time now with growing families. We were cutting the cake and I turned to look at the crowd and there he was. I was shocked and speechless. After all these years, he is still a true friend.

I now have some of the things I always wanted in a husband that loves me and a beautiful daughter. So why do I still have feelings and dreams of unfulfilled wishes of my heart? I don’t know. Maybe it’s the ideal of what I thought I wanted in life/marriage compared to what I actually have. I read other people’s blogs and wonder if they are really that blissfully happy. Is that really possible? Don’t they ever feel short-changed in their life? Then I read my dear, sweet cousin’s thoughts about having a bad day. She seriously has it together and I only wish I could be more like her. Even in her worst moments, she inspires me.

So though I don’t have the marriage, body, job, ward, state, or life that I always wanted, I know that it is precisely what I need right now. It’s just up to me to “bloom where I am planted.”


- Posted from my iPhone

Hush

I am craving quiet.

Right now I want to be lying on that private beach in California.

Listening to the crashing waves.

Tasting the salt in the air.

Feeling the sun warm my skin.

Burying my toes in the sand.

Peace. All is well. If even for just a moment.

- Posted from my iPhone

Walk'bout at 3am with a Pink Elephant

Hello blogosphere. This is the other half of Monkeys and Peaches. I'm had a bit of time to think tonight. I have some questions. Maybe you can help me answer them, oh great entity of self reflection by rhetorical public evaluation:

Who am I any more? Why am I here? How did I get here? Who should I blame?

I don't know myself anymore.

I talked to my little sister Em today. She related an experience where she was talking about where she was from to a group of BYU freshman: Huntington Beach. She was asked if she surfed, which is generally the first question anyone asks when told by the conversant that they from there. She said she didn't very much but her older brother (me) did. Her new acquaintances swooned and asked if I was single. That bothers me.

It isn't the freshman. It isn't the commitment I have to one wonderful woman. It bothered me because reminded me of who I used to be... what.. five years ago now? Before baby, before marriage, before ministering in Ohio. I remember surfing. I remember my dreams. I remember being in shape. I remember being able to express my freedom when and where I pleased. I remember being able to shake things up in my life and allow change to wash over me like the cleansing salty white water of big wave while I paddled out. I miss being just a bit of an uncertain tomorrow. I miss the ocean. I miss being able to change things. I think that is how I gained reassurance I was in control of my life. If I didn't like something about myself, or how I lived, I changed it! I packed up and left at anytime I wished.

I've been feeling the nostalgia for a bit now, so I watched an old friend of mine. A movie called: Blue Crush. Nostalgia took me 'over the falls'. Oh.. the beach. The waves. This movie was playing a LOT when I worked for surf theater down on the pier. I used to have to check it, and watch it to some degree every three hours, every day, for at least a month. I realized I haven't thought about anything before the baby was born in a loooong time. It hasn't existed for me. I have been singular in focus and purpose. Graduate so I can make Jena happy.

On to my point:

My facebook post today is: Sometimes I forget how to eat an Elephant. The last month I've been dumbfounded at my tasks and goals. I've been hesitating in working on them because they seemed pretty insurmountable. Like eating an Elephant. But if you know the saying, the answer is: one bite at a time. It's a comment about how to achieve the impossible.

But then, now that I'm over one of the smaller mountains in my task list, I have suddenly realized I've been too focused on taking each bite at a time to see where I'm standing. Even if I've been hesitating at taking that bite, it's still all I've been seeing for years now. And why am I eating this thing anyway? Where am I? Who am I anymore? I used to be fun loving. I used to be about going out and exploring the world, and at a moments notice too. I used to like to push the edge. I was independent, I was ruthless. I was unconquerable. I used to enjoy a healthy bit of fear and uncertainty.

Somewhere in there, I gave it up. I submitted. I allowed myself to be the conquered. I willing exchanged all of it. I gave up dreams, life style, freedom. Did I give it up for some thankless existence? I suppose it's an equal partnership in that, I'm no great exemplar. But I also happily gained so much too... I think.... Maybe I need to write a list of what I've gained in exchange... Hrm.

But now my day consists of being 'managed'. Ensuring my responsibilities have been met, and my manager's expectations are met. For the longest time I was happy with even my new position in life! I suppose the saying is in Star Wars Revenge of the Sith is true: "So this is how liberty dies... with thunderous applause. " That makes a lot of sense, probably the only thing in the whole movie.

But somewhere in eating this beast of a life I've made, I stopped smiling too. I lost myself to the day to day grind. I became narrow minded, and singularly focused. And that focus seems to be to make one person happy, and that person just isn't. Sometimes no matter what I do. Succeed in school, work, whatever. Still they aren't happy. I feel like I'm slowly being ground down with mediocrity.

So what makes me happy? Well, lately it's been holding and playing with Rylin. It's the happiest part of my day. Hugging her and having her hug me back. I miss having that else where. I miss excitement. I miss challenge.

Is this the life I live now? Is this who I am now? I want to paddle out. I want to search and discover. The wanderlust aches a bit more than normal today. But then I should be home by five. Why did I allow myself to arrive here where I am so limited by a thing like a self imposed curfew? Can I be happy again here? Is this where I belong? Am I the same guy that ditched the later quarter of his senior year to go surfing and still graduated with a 3.0?

I've spent the last several hours looking through old photos. I can see why Jena likes to live in the past so much. Our honeymoon, our wedding day, the day we moved into our new apartment. Those aren't the faces we wear now. I'm curious if this is a good of a bad thing?

I've certainly grown. I'm all responsible now. I think I am still happy somewhere. But perhaps it's time to bring some of the old me back. Others wont like that. I'll have to say no to some things. Maybe I shouldn't then. Saying only no brings more contention... and there is only one place contention comes from.

Maybe instead it's time to re-evaluate a few things. Look inward and do a bit of a spiritual journey by myself. I have another limiter on my life lately to though. My stomach has seemingly been driving this train. I'm about to drop a few classes because of it. Maybe I can restructure some priorities, attempt some inner discoveries while I'm at it.

Maybe I need to walk'bout a bit, so I can appreciate better what I have at home. I have so many wonderful things here. Yes.. I think I can re-find being happy. After all, I'm responsible for my own attitude and therefore, capacity for being happy. There is only one person to blame.

- Monkey