Help!

I don't have much to say other than I wish my girls were here to help! I'm putting in long and constant days costuming. But there is light at the end of the cloth tunnel. Then I can work on my first love [and what I signed on to do!] props. But Mon afternoon my favorite forecaster tells me will be a good time to paint. So paint we will. Wish you were here, Lura, for this part!
I offer house room to anyone who wants to visit Ohio [and incidently sew, paint etc.!]

Rhe Word SEW Is Not In My Vocabulary

It's not! It's not! The word "sew" is not in my vocabulary! Ask my kids--I've always told them that. Ask my sister. Where was I when she was doing costumes? Not sewing! Ask my costuming teachers. How did I make it through costuming rquirements? By running and fetching, By cutting or pinning. By acting as a dressmaker's dummy. But NOT by sewing!

I have a mending tip for all you young Moms. It really works, too. Ask my kids! The garment needing mending is put into the mening basket. Procrastinate a few months--and voila! The child has outgrown the garment. Therefore you never have to--sew!

So why does all my time seem to be taken of late with costuming? I'm still not sewing! We need more people who will run & fetch, pin & cut iron & sort. Even be a dressmaker's dummy.

Maybe I'm just a dummy? Albeit one with waaay too much costuming knowledge.

Accents

This is all your fault, Fourth Fret! I really enjoyed talking to you on the phone, but was taken quite by surprise with your accent. I think I was polite enough not to comment about that "ignorant sounding, hokie Okie accent" as a close friend of mine was always teased. But you pulled off the gloves, so...

I like regional accents. Regional accents are unfortunately disappearing, but they lend a color to life which is also disappearing. I, myself, have a faint midwestern accent--until commented upon. Then my a's get flaater and flaaater. I also have Chicago traces from my mom, a few Wisconsin words from my Grandma, [ the dresser "draw"and not a few pronunciations giving away my Dad's Italian Brooklyn/NJ roots. [Certain high school friends used to tease me to say 'daughter'-"dwah-ter" and "chwahclat"] [My Uncle lived on "Da cawnah of toid and toidy toid streets" for real!]

I've enjoyed the regional accents everywhere we lived...until Arkansas. There it was a full year before I could understand anyone over the phone. My friends, Sue and Yevonne were always on my case for talking too fast [when I thought I was really dragging!] I usd to tell them to think faster. Sue and I figured out an interesting phenomena. She served her Mission in upstate NY and was treated as the dim bulb in the box always. She's not--dim, I mean. It was just her speech--accent and slower rate. There was a Sister in my Mission [Independence, Missouri] who [I am ashamed to admit] was treated much the same way. Sister Blaylock was from Biloxi, Mississippi. Same problem. She was most cetainly not dim, just slower of speech, and with a thick accent unfamiliar to most of the missionaries who were from the west. [And don't think those Utahan don't have their own. Ask which temple is furthest south in Utah--Saint Garge. Of course there's a temple in American Fark nowdays, too.]

In Arkansas I became tired of people razzing me about my accent. So my oh so gracious reply was, "Turn on your TV. Listen to the people talk. Do they sound like you or like me? I rest my case." The Midwestern/ California influenced accent has become the Standard American Broadcast accent, so I could get away with that. Perhaps that'ss why my bishop recommended that I read Dale Carnegie's book, How To Win Friends and Influence People. When I said I already had, he said to read it again.

Tease all you want. Let others tease you, but in our increasingly homogonous country, let's try to keep and enjoy our regional accents, all y'all, 'cause they're like waay wicked! And youse gotta admit it, ya follow?

A Rough Syllogism-- A Harddrive : Car Engine :: Software : Bodywork

When a car crashes, there are loads of things that must be fixed. So, too, with a computer. I proudly have gotten back a few of my "favorites" [except the yucky format Keith put on here just says 'bookmarks' and I don't like it nearly so well.] I even went to the LDS website and downloaded the PAF all by myself. But then I had to have Keith get the info off the jump drive and onto the hard drive. I found blogger dashboard with ease! but I haven't yet started putting back the shortcuts to the blogs I'm reading. Essentially it is about everyone on Sariah's list, so I am asking here for a blanket permission once I figure it out [or call Lura for help again] . So if you do NOT want to be on my list let me know: thespian52@yahoo.com if you want to be private :) Oh, and I don't know how to make that a link, so you actually have to e-mail. Sorry.

So, while the engine is now in good repair, the body work goes slowly.

Love is Like Pizza?

Notice to my corner of the world: I am home! I am back online! Well, sorta--I'm still awfully sleepy. Chasing around with grandchildren will do that to a person. Why did I not realize until Aiden and I were discussing our respective birthdays [2 days apart] that our ages are 50 years apart! Right now I feel everyone of them! Young children are for young parents.

But it was a great trip! I got to see all three of my older kids, their spouses and children, my sister, a niece, and be with my daughter and grandson for his blessing. I got to help both my daughters. And I got to know my grandsons at this stage of life. [ my granddaughter too, but didn't get to spend as much time with her.]

I begin to understand now what my father meant when he claimed that I named my kids in a way he couldn't remember their names: Sariah, Vinnie[after him!] Lura [after an aunt]. It isn't the names, but the getting to know the person behind the name. I got to be there at the hospital immediately after Aiden was born, then had him [with parents] visit in VA. Got to see him again when brother, Dallin was born, and now spent a great deal of one on one time with him. So I feel a special bond there. At this point, I can honestly say that I feel a special, yet quite different bond with each of the grandchildren, and eagerly look forward to the next one's arrival in the spring. Isn't it amazing how one's heart seems to grow larger and larger with the addition of each new family member. It is not a case of fractions where each piece of the pizza ends up smaller and smaller, but a case of multiplication, where there is a pizza ordered for each person no matter their size or age! Years ago, my uncle taught that lesson. He never worried about how many pieces each person would get, he simply counted up the number of people [including infants] and ordered that many pizzas. We not only never went away hungry, but we never really had leftovers, either.

So, I guess that for today I am saying that: Love is like pizza--everyone should get his own? or there is enough for everyone.