If Wishes were Horses--or something like that!

My mother used to warn me to be careful what I wished for.  When she was a little girl her best friend wished she could get the measles so she wouldn't have to go to school.  Many of the children in their community were going through unplanned vacations from school because of the red spots and she wanted an excuse to skip school too.  The child got her wish and got more than she'd bargained for, a particularly hard case of the measles.  She was painfully ill and eventually died of complications. 

Having been extremely skinny all of my life, I used to wish I could gain a little weight.  Even during the short stretch of my modeling career I got yelled at each time I lost a pound or two. Like my mother's friend, I got more than I bargained for when my metabolism somehow changed and I started piling on pounds.  I soon discovered I hated all those extra pounds and I began wishing I could lose them.  No matter how hard I exercised and dieted the pounds seemed determined to stay.  Little by little the single digit sizes disappeared from my closet to be replaced with ever greater double digits.  Then something happened-- three major surgeries in six months.  The first knee replacement surgery didn't affect my weight much, but the pancreatectomy turned off my weight gaining problem, made me a diabetic, and forced drastic changes in my eating habits. (Not a particular kindness for a chocoholic!) Quite unexpectedly I got my wish and dropped nearly forty pounds in a couple of months.

I'm neither bragging nor complaining, but under the circumstances that much weight loss has created an array of problems.  My clothes don't fit.  I look like a bag lady draped in clothing three sizes too large.  Even my shoes and my underwear are baggy! 

Well meaning friends and family assure me it will be fun to go shopping for a new wardrobe, but that's where my third surgery comes in, another knee replacement.  I can barely walk. Today is the first I ventured downstairs without crutches and nearly strangled the wooden stair rails in the process. I need help getting my shoes on.  I'm not permitted to drive. I need safety pins to keep up my shorts when I have physical therapy. I'm afraid a shopping trip is some distance in the future. 

Another complication that caught me by surprise is the cold.  I'm freezing.  Unlike my friend, Susan, in Hawaii who lost a similar amount of weight the past few months, I have to deal with Utah weather which isn't kind to someone who just lost forty pounds of insulation.  On those recent warm days when my husband turned on the air conditioning, I reached for a sweater or a blanket. 

Even with good insurance my surgeries have taken a big bite out of what I might consider wardrobe replacement funds, but the biggest expenses turned out not to be medical.  The day before my pancreatectomy we discovered a gas leak near our fireplace.  That involved turning off the gas, ripping out the fireplace, installing new lines and valves, then installing a new fireplace.  After my second knee replacement surgery, my husband returned home to discover our garage door was broken and had to be replaced.  Both required hefty financial contributions.

 

I'm through wishing.  I'll set a few goals now and then, but I'm through thinking the fulfillment of a wish will make everything wonderful.  I should have figured out a long time ago there's a reason The Monkey's Paw has stuck in my head since I first read it as a naive thirteen-year-old.

Congratulations to the Winners

I was sad to miss the Whitney Gala this year.  Thanks goes out to those who tweeted the award ceremony announcements.  Congratulations to all of the winners.  Four of the adult category winners received their awards for books I was able to review for Meridian during the past year and I have to agree they are fantastic choices.  That's The Rent Collector by Camron Wright, My Loving Vigil Keeping by Carla Kelly, Code Word by Traci Hunter Abramson, and Edenbrooke by Julianne Donaldson.  The other adult novel winner was Dan Wells for The Hollow City, which I haven't read. The funny thing is every category included a list of five finalists who could have easily been the winner because they were all exceptional, making picking just one a difficult task.  I'd like to extend my congratulations to them as well.  There were no losers!

I didn't get a chance to read most of the Young Adult and Middle Grade finalists, but here are the winners, The False Prince by Jennifer A. Nielsen, Everneath by Brodi Ashton, and After Hello by Lisa Mangum.

During the convention there were awards given for first chapters too and I'd like to wish all of those winners, including my daughter Janice, speedy publications!  My daughters (there were two of them) attended the convention and sent me regular updates which I appreciated.

One more round of applause is directed toward Heather Moore and all those who assisted in making the Gala a huge success.

I'm looking forward to going to the gala next year!

 

The Greatest Adventure

Once an aspiring newspaper reporter asked me what was the most exciting thing I'd done in my life. To me the answer was a no brainer--being a mother.  I don't think she believed me, but it's the truth. Flying on a refueling mission, scaling the Snake River Canyon wall, donning fire gear and going inside a burning house, rafting on the "River of No Return", hiking in Montana's wilderness area, sinking in quicksand up to my shoulders, being part of a traveling theater group, are just a few of the exciting adventures in my life but raising five children of my own and three foster children has brought me more excitement, tears, laughter, and personal satisfaction than anything else I've done. 

A few days ago I finished reading Covenant Motherhood by Stephanie Dibb Sorensen.  More than any other book I've read about motherhood this one touched me and expressed many of my own feelings and discoveries about motherhood.  She compares the essential elements of mothering children to the key concepts Jesus taught and lived while here in mortality:  creation, teacher, succorer, provider, cleaner, defender and protector, one who loves, sacrifices, forgives, shares, and saves.  With realistic short sketches from her own life as a young mother she points out the challenges, discouraging moments, and the triumphs that face mothers and relates them to mothers' eternal relationship with God as they walk closely in the Savior's footprints.

 

When I was a young mother I really didn't like Mother's Day.  No way could I measure up to the saintly examples extolled in the talks or poems given that day.  The perfect mothers lauded that day made me feel inferior and like a failure.  Fortunately Mother's Day talks have become more realistic through the years and I've gained a better understanding of what being a mother means.  I'm not perfect and I didn't raise perfect children.  What matters is how much I love them and how grateful I am to be their mother.  I'm thankful too for the memories we share and that they've all grown up to be responsible adults.  Along with the fine people they are, they've given me five more responsible adult children to love, and a baker's dozen nearly perfect grandchildren.  

In the Art of Motherhood, which I've talked about before, I had the opportunity to tell of the miraculous arrivals of my two youngest grandchildren. (The two-year-old has been very concerned about Grandma's big owie and became nearly hysterical when she saw my leg in the CPM machine.  She's convinced it's an alligator because it opens and closes like the actions for a familiar nursery song about an alligator that snaps monkeys out of a tree.)  I often call these two little girls our miracle babies, but in truth I consider all of my children and grandchildren "miracles."  Nothing could possibly bring me more happiness than being their mother and grandmother.

Another Update

This was supposed to be my day to blog on the V-formation.  I didn't get it done.  Instead I did two rounds of rehab exercises, spent four hours on the CPM machine, had a few dozen staples removed from my knee, spent untold hours strapped to an ice machine, took a lot of  pills, fought to stay awake, and never managed to get dressed.  I read Esther by Heather Moore while on the CPM machine.  It's a great book and I look forward to reviewing it. I caught one little error (and believe me only one error is fantastically good).  You really have to look hard to find a typo or misused word in her books.  I also cast my Whitney votes--I didn't do all of the categories this year and I regret that I won't be able to attend the gala.

All in all, I'm doing well and I see a slight improvement each day.  I'm not allowed to go down the stairs from my bedroom to my office yet, so I'm stuck using my old clunker laptop instead of my desk computer. My husband rigged up a board to go across my armchair to set it on because I can't hold it on my lap and I can't twist far enough on the bed to set it beside me there. If I don't get an okay to wander down those four stairs to my office by Monday, I'll have to recruit one of my daughters to post my review for Meridian for me.  It's written, I just can't access it to send in from this computer.  With some cooperation from my editors at Meridian I was able to post today's review.  By the way thanks to all the great authors who have helped me through some long CPM sessions, especially Abramson, Sowards, and Moore!

Hopefully this will be my last surgery.  Two knees and a pancreas in six months has been rough, but I've been the recipient of a lot of love and kindness.  My husband has made so many trips up and down the stairs to take care of me, keep our home running smoothly, cook meals, etc.  I'm convinced that the most romantic gestures are not flowers and candy, but putting on Ted hose, doing the laundry, brushing hair, helping in and out of the shower, keeping track of which pills and when, and serving as an exercise coach.  My kids have all been great to help and even my two-year-old granddaughter has been helpful.  She tried to cover me with a blankie because "Grandma has big owie."

A Cool Book

Last September while I was recovering from knee surgery I was asked by my publisher to write a short story about mothers.  Since our last two granddaughters were total surprises and something of miracle babies, I wrote about them.  Covenant just released the book The Art of Motherhood which contains my short story and twenty-nine other true stories by other well-known writers.  I have to tell you, I am thoroughly impressed by this book.  I laughed at Sara Eden's story.  I wanted to hug Kerry Blair when she wrote of her soldier son. I ached for Traci Abramson and her forever daughter. I felt an urge to applaud those like Annette Lyon, Michele Bell, and Jeri Gilchrist who handled parenting's tough moments with reliance on the Spirit. And there were tears for those who remembered mothers or children who have passed away. There are also loving stories of women who were "like mothers."

The stories are great, but so is the art work.  The lovely paintings that grace this book are by notable artists such as Greg Olsen, Mary Cassatt, Robert Duncan, Liz Lemon Swindle, and many other notable artists.

The two miracle babies I wrote about aren't tiny infants any more.  Jennifer just had her second birthday and Gracie will reach her first birthday in almost two months.  As a proud grandmother I can't help showing off these beautiful special little girls.

 

A Winner, an Announcement, and a little Writerly Rambling.

Mindi Battraw is the winner of the March Wish List.  Congratulations!  Mindi send me your wish list and I'll send you one of the books from your list.

Once again I'm discontinuing the monthly Wish List contest for a month, maybe two.  I'll be having my second knee replacement surgery in two weeks, so it's time to simplify again.  Blogging may be a bit erratic for a time as well.  Everything went well with my first knee replacement, so I expect it will this time, but it involves a rather long recovery and a lot of rehab time.  I do have plans to keep up my Meridian column.

You may notice  on Thursday that I reviewed a non-fiction book this week, something I generally don't do. Usually the only time I include non-fiction in my reviews is when I do a special column such as the one I do before Christmas, in which I review a number of fiction and non-fiction books. This book, Hitchhikers by Bernard Poduska, is biographical and touched a tender spot for me because I, too, moved frequently while growing up.  But that is the only similarity to my childhood. 

Writing a review column is always interesting and a challenge.  I love the wide variety of books I get to read.  Of course I don't review every book I read; I don't even remember to post them all on Good Reads.  Like most readers, I enjoy some genres more than others, and I've learned that when books by certain authors show up in my "to read" pile I can count on an enjoyable reading experience.  I read books by two of these  authors this week, Deep Cover by Traci Hunter Abramson and Poaching Daisies by Carole Thayne Warburton.  I highly reccommend both and will post reviews on Meridian in the near future.  These books just might be these two authors' best books yet.  I'm thinking Whitney nominations.

Speaking of Whitneys.  I won't be at the gala this year.  It falls too soon after my surgery, but I'll be thinking of all the finalists and friends I'll miss seeing.  Good luck to all involved.



 

EASTER ON MY MIND

 

Easter is one of those occasions that marks milestones in our lives and is rich in memories and emotions. Christians (and some non-Christians too) will be celebrating Easter this weekend. Some will make their once-a-year trip to Church. Some will go all out for the Easter Bunny and commercialize the day as they do Christmas. Most people I know with small children will find an egg hunt for their children, be it at the city park, some club or lodge, at a church, or in their own back yard and there will be Easter baskets Sunday morning. There are many still who will pause to think about Christ, their Savior, and the events that led up to His crucifixion and His victory over death. Most Christian denominations will hold special services Easter morning to celebrate, not His death, but the miracle of His coming forth from the tomb.

Dying hard boiled eggs has always been a part of my Easter tradition. I've never been too sure what the connection is between fancy eggs and the serious events of the resurrection though I've heard a number of theories. As one of eight children the procedure often got a bit messy around the kitchen table as we competed to produce the most beautiful or most original masterpieces. A few years ago some of my daughters brought their children to my house to color eggs together. That resulted in one of my chairs receiving a dye job too, but it also became a cherished memory.

One Easter we were in Washington DC visiting our son-in-law who was a patient at Walter Reed Army Hospital when a veterans organization held an egg hunt for the children of the wounded soldiers. Our two-year-old grandson quickly figured out the object of the game and had a grand time racing all over the huge lawn collecting eggs filled with toys or candy. The event was well organized and included refreshments for the soldiers and their families and stuffed plush animals for all of the children. There was something particularly poignant about watching men and women in wheel chairs, leaning on crutches, or wearing thick casts cheering on their children, laughing, and enjoying this family oriented outing.

As a farm child I always equated Easter with the arrival of boxes of new chicks, new goslings waddling after their mamas, a new colt in the pasture, and a wobbly calf in the barn. Frequently a new litter of kittens took up residence in the loft of the barn. The Easter Bunny didn't play a part in my childhood. Mama didn't believe in mixing this commercial gimmick with what she considered the most important religious holiday of the year. We had Easter baskets which we knew came from our parents and often my sisters and I had new dresses which we watched Mama sew for us. She told us the new life on the farm was a reminder of Christ's new life and the gifts of Easter baskets and new Sunday best clothes were a reminder that she and Daddy loved us just as God loved His Son and each of us.

This Sunday I'll attend church and hear the story of the terrible events leading up to the resurrection of our Lord. I'll listen to the music that celebrates the hope given to all the inhabitants of the earth of eternal life. I'll be particularly cognizant of new life all around me in the green of grass, flowers long hidden by mounds of snow, and the happy giggles of small children. My family will enjoy ham and all of the trimmings along with the love and pleasure just being together brings. There will be a special egg hunt for my grandchildren with eggs filled with a year's accumulation of coins. As I always do I will reflect on a long ago Easter morning when with a group of other young people I climbed a small hill to watch the sun rise over the mountains. I'll remember the testimony of His divinity that filled my heart with assurance that morning that Christ lives. And I will rejoice because He is risen.

March Madness Sale

My publisher, Covenant, has placed a lot of ebooks on sale.  They're all $2.99 or less.  The link below will take you to a listing of the books on this sale. It goes to flyer with more details.

http://us4.campaign-archive2.com/?u=4170d7b9f5975b159191cebeb&id=8c2f2d3d31&e=

One of my older books, High Stakes, is included in the sale.  There are also books by Stephanie Black, Michele Bell, Gregg Luke, N.C. Allen, and many others.  Kindle readers, this is your chance to stock up on some great new and older books!

Signing Schedule

I'm doing two book signings this coming Saturday, March 23, for Celebrating Sisterhood. I'll be at the Redwood Seagull book from 9 to 11 a.m.. Then I'll be at the Family Center Seagull Book in Taylorsville from 11:30 to one. Conference weekend I'll be at the Valley Fair Deseret Book for Ladies Night from six to eight p.m. Because of my recent surgeries and one more coming up, I haven't been able to do many signings for this book, Where the River Once Flowed, so I'm hoping to see many of you, my friends at these signings. Both Celebrating Sisterhood and Ladies Night are a blast with yummy snacks and fun activities. Come have fun and say hello.  I promise there will be chocolate!

ALL FOR SPRING WITHOUT DST

I watched the sun rise this morning.  It was lovely, but I'd already been up for almost two hours.  I've no problem with going to bed in the dark, but I really hate getting up while it's still dark.  Getting up before daylight reminds me too much of long ago mornings when I stumbled in the dark to dress without waking the younger kids, making my shivering way to the barn, and too many early mornings picking fruit, berries, potatoes, etc. while the plants were cold and wet.  Early morning cold and dampness is different from winter cold, somehow it feels more miserable.  For those of us who dislike morning darkness, but enjoy the shadowed coolness of evening, Daylight Savings Time is a disaster.  I think some of us come into this life preprogrammed for dawn to dusk; we're not ready to start our day before the sun comes up and we're not ready to sleep until the night is dark and cool. 

Someone must profit from the time change or it wouldn't still be thrust on us twice each year. Every legislative session someone introduces a bill to end the practice, but it never makes it out of committee.  Not many people like it; golfers seem to be the exception.  It costs my state over a million dollars each year, and almost every year some school children are injured or killed walking to school in the dark or pre-dawn hazy light. Farmers hate it--cows can't tell time--it leaves students and employees dragging for a week or two of adjustment, and people like me who never quite adjust, grumble a lot and get cranky. 

Daylight Savings Time is my one complaint about spring.  I love almost everything else about spring.  I love seeing the early crocuses bloom, sometimes before the snow is quite gone.  I eagerly watch for tulips and daffodils to poke through the ground, the grass to turn green, and that faint aura of green that precedes leaves on the trees.  I celebrate being able to wear a sweatshirt instead of a coat. Spring even smells different and I'm so ready for it this year. The past couple of days have been wonderful after such a long, cold winter. I just don't want to force myself out of bed while it's still dark outside.