A Thanksgiving Retro Spective

Welcome to my Retro Thanksgiving. What follows is a collection of memories and gratitudes I gathered throughout the day.

I am grateful for my eternal perspective. It's good to know that I won't be judged for the stylishness of my couches, pillows or lamps. I am, however, accountable for how I nurture those little bums that have worn holes in my couch, and those sticky fingers that left smudges on my lamps.

I'm grateful to be a wife and mother. Nothing else in my life motivates me more to do better, to try harder, to change more often. I often notice the painful size of the gap between who I am and who I want to be. Fulfilling my role as wife and mother has allowed me stretch and grow to close that gap like nothing else could. 

I'm grateful for the Twilight Series. What? Are you serious? Yes, I am. And I included it here because I went and saw the movie for the third time today. Thanks to Stephenie Meyer, I met my peeps, reconnected with my inner child and remembered what having fun was.

 

I'm grateful for alpalcas because sometimes life can be stressful and painful and they help us forget.

I'm grateful for my heritage. Not long ago I attended to the temple and did an endowment session for an ancestor. I was overwhelmed with a feeling of what this woman had sacrificed. For her children. For her posterity. For me. Someday I will meet her face to face and we can both tell each other thanks. I tell you what; there will be no words.

These pictures speak for themselves here. Have you ever loved something so much it almost hurts? Look at those smiles. I get to see those all day long.

I am grateful for patience. Specifically for Heavenly Father's patience in me while I work out my salvation. 

I'm grateful for the parable of The Prodigal Son. There is no more hopeful or humbling story.  I have played several of the characters at one time or another. Don't we all? Aren't we all the recipients of undeserved mercy? We had a great visit with Steven today.  It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found. -Luke 15:32

H A P P Y   T H A N K S G I V I N G

from ours to yours.

Dear Santa Claus

For Christmas I would like just three things. I am asking you because you are my last hope [with the economy being slow like it is, and Mr. Coleman being employed in the slowest of slow markets right now]. I feel great just knowing that these are the things I would purchase for myself had that letter from the Publishers Clearing House not been a hoax. Ahem. 

First Thing: This personal embosser. I can already see my own personal library growing to gigantic proportions, and it would just be lovely to have a clear, crisp, embossed emblem on each title page of every book.

Next Thing: These awesome boots by Kenneth Cole Reaction. They are quite beautiful, and since I have moved to Utah [think 1995] I have told myself every winter that this would be the winter I will splurge and buy myself a great pair of boots. Well guess what? The most I have spent on a pair of shoes since 1995 is [well, let's just exclude my running shoes, because that really throws off the numbers] $50. So, I think I deserve these.

And finally, I would really love a new camera, but not just any camera. I want this one. The new Canon XSI, and I'll also need a couple of lenses, if you don't mind. My Canon, while I love it dearly, has just not been the same since it spent the day in a plastic bag swimming in warm, flat root beer. You can't really blame it, but still, a woman with an eye for beautiful things needs a nice camera. So...

Thanks so much in advance and have a very Merry Christmas.

Moving underwater

Have you ever had a dream where it feels like you are moving under water? That's how I felt today. All day. And I seem to have those days a lot, like a depression without being sad, a deflated balloon. "Why?" Mr. Coleman wants to know.

So do I. 

It could have something to do with being sick for twelve days. I am getting better, I have most of my voice back. I am just so tired. I feel drained, but I haven't done any draining for days. 

 So here, for my own benefit is a list of things I accomplished today [even though I felt like lying in bed all day]:

washed dishes

unloaded dishwasher

quick-cleaned kitchen

drove kids to elementary school

bought deli turkey for preschool thanksgiving feast

dropped daughter off at preschool

watched Mimi while her mother is getting chemo at the hospital

played games at Noggin.com to cheer up Mimi

picked up daughter at preschool

dropped off Mimi at kindergarten

answered emails

washed and put away four loads of laundry

taught two piano lessons

made fried rice for dinner

made candy popcorn for FHE treat

played game for FHE

bathed the babies, brushed teeth, combed hair and put to bed

posted to my blog

Okay, I feel a little better all ready. Even if my list did not include showering, exercising or being amazing.

They don't make 'em like they used to

I like something new and shiny just as much as the next girl. BUT, there are some things that you just cannot buy today and get the same quality as you used to. This is an ode to those few precious objects I have inherited from my mother (and mother-in-law), that I would never, ever buy new.

Object Number One: The Magic Mill

This is my stone grinder that I use to grind my wheat for my homemade bread. (More on that another time). It has a hardwood cabinet and lovely stainless steel detailing on the knobs. When is the last time you admired the intricacies of an appliance knob? My mom got it when she was first married. In 1971. Still good as new. It is made to last a lifetime. I saw one on Craig's List for $295. Seriously! The super-fine, warm, freshly-ground wheat is one of several secrets to great tasting bread. I use it with a grateful heart about twice a week.

Object Number Two: 1894 Mathushek and Sons Piano

This piano is a beauty at the tender age of 114. My mother-in-law taught thousands of piano lessons on this piano, and now I am doing the same. Original ivory and ebony keys. With a duplex (meaning double, or TWO!!) sounding board still in excellent condition, this piano sounds better than any upright piano you can buy today. It needs a restoration, which we are saving up for, but in order to get the same quality of sound from a piano today, I would  have to buy a Steinway, and they can cost more than my house. I feel so lucky.

Object Number Three: Bernina 830

Perhaps you have tried to sew and thought that it was too difficult, or you didn't have enough patience. Well, that is because you haven't sewed on this Bernina 830 from 1973. These machines are still in high demand and can sell on Ebay for about $800. 100% metal mechanical parts. Twelve different original, metal feet. No-jam bobbin. I have sewed curtains, pillows, English-smocked dresses, button holes, endless denim patches, and upholstered ottomans with it. And it purrs.

Hope

Can I tell you how much I love this guy? ^^Just got back from our Monday family visit. Here's how it goes:

We head down to the basement and find a cushy couch in a quiet corner. We let the kids wrestle while he brings out all his notebooks, study guides and books. I listen as he explains his recovery process to me. I read his lists, his definitions.

He flexes his biceps for me and asks if they look bigger. I concur. Much, much bigger. (He's up to 180 pounds–from 145)

I hear his growth. I sense the need for my own recovery. I silently commit to take my own inventory tonight. I feel hope. It dangles cautiously, but by the time I leave the feeling is too large to be contained inside my body and out it pours.  I weep. Because I finally feel it. I allow myself to feel it. I am pierced by the brilliance of it.

Hang in there little bro. I promised not to give you any advice. Just allow me this moment to say: Keep it up. I'm so proud of you.

"HOPE... is like the beam of sunlight rising up and above the horizon of our present circumstances. It pierces the darkness with a brilliant dawn." --President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Smörgåsbord-ish Smattering

I'd like to title this picture: Why I Haven't Started A Blog Until Now. Look carefully. See what Lucas has in his hands? That's right, my most favorite Christmas present ever (thank you Ryan and Kathryn). Our razor sharp J.A. Henkels knife. What better way to pass the time on a beautiful fall afternoon while Mom is figuring out how to create a blog. Can you chop the carrots and potatoes for tonight's chicken noodle soup while your at it, son? Thanks. Mom will be right up to supervise you.

Well, welcome to my blog anyhow. This first post will be a smorgasbord-ish smattering of events and thoughts from the past month. Enjoy, but plan on future posts being sporadic and disjointed. That's just how I roll.

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Hope your Halloween was as frightfully delightful as ours was (complete with an 18-inch-high Best Child's Costume trophy for Micah at our ward's Trunk-or-Treat)

This is my brother and I. If we could talk him into getting some highlights and waxing his eyebrows, people may start mistaking us for twins. I've always felt like we shared more DNA than anyone else, and here is the proof.

Mr. Coleman and I went to visit Mr. SPM at his rehab two weeks ago. It was scary/emotional/exciting/hopeful. I could recognize a tiny spark of who he really is, inside the shell that we have known for the last several years. Keep praying. Keep hoping. Miracles are occurring.

Five years ago the Coleman family welcomed a tiny, delicate 5 pound baby girl during a dark and wintry period of our lives. She has been the special sparkle that has brightened uncounted moments since then. She celebrated her birthday with friends. They danced, ate cake, played games and LAUGHED.