mildly hu-Myrrh-ous

In my seminary classes yesterday and the day before, I taught Mathew 1 and Luke 2 about the Savior's birth. My mom has lots of essential oils and things like that so she brought me two bottles, one with Frankincense and one with myrrh.

We discussed the gifts the wise men brought (gold, frankincense, myrrh) and how they were symbolic of the Savior and His life - gold because He's a king, frankincense because it was used in the sacrificial ordinances at the temple back in that day (burned to symbolize prayer), and myrrh because Jesus atoned and died and was resurrected and myrrh was used for embalming. Pretty cool. We talked about how we can give Jesus gifts still and we found the gifts the Savior wants fro different scriptures. Then everyone came to the front and wrote down a gift they'd give the Savior that day and put it into a gift bag. Next to the gift bag I had the two bottles of myrrh and frankincense and the students smelled them.

I taught the first couple classes and then i came in my office and ate my entire lunch. this was weird because I usually eat one part of it - the sandwich or the apple or the string cheese or... - but I ate it all. Even weirder was that I was still super hungry! I had to pray that I'd be able to make it until I got home.

It was bizarre.

Later, I was reading more into the properties of frankincense and myrrh - the two bottles that had been open in my classroom all day long - and I read  myrrh is not just form embalming, but also is really good at increasing appetites.

Princess Tea Party

We had our second event for the Ms. Wheelchair Utah Pageant last Friday. It was so fun! We have 3 different contestant categories, depending on age, and the youngest ones, the Little Wheelz, are so stinking cute. They melt me.

We wanted something special for them while the older girls had their interviews with the judges, so we created this "Princess Tea party" (well, technically it should have been called a "Princess Pink Lemonade Party") - but they still all drank from their tiny tea cups with their little finger up.

My mom was the master behind the gloriousness of the whole party. She knew what she wanted it to look like and it turned out awesome.

One little girl, after sipping her pink lemonade and nibbling a pink wafer cookie, looked at her mom and glowed asshe said, "Mom! I'm at a REAL tea party!"

At the end, this little girl in the white dress asked Ariel where she was going (you can kind of see Ariel's fin dress next to her). Ariel was grabbing her purse and said, "Oh, well, I'm going home now." This cute little girl looked up at her with Bambi eyes and said, "Oh, to the sea?"

Real Cuteness with Real Princesses at a Real Tea/Pink Lemonade Party.

Can it get more real?

I see...

Whit is in the market for a truck. He wants an older (anyone who knows my beautifully frugal husband wouldn't expect anything less), 4-door-ed, long bed truck with a shell. We passed one last night on our Family Home Evening activity to decorate my classroom for the school year (that begins in 8 days...) and he was interested. On my way to school this morning, I passed it again and stopped to see the price.

The phone number was listed large, so was the "for sale" sign, but the mileage and information and price was written so small that I couldn't see it. I pulled into the person's driveway to get a closer look but it was still so small. I couldnm't tell if it was 18k or 15k that they were asking for. I was frustrated with myself, my eyes used to be so good! I shouldn't struggle to see tiny writing. Grr. Reluctantly I got out my glasses (like an old lady) and put them on.

My glasses helped, but not a lot. They only made it obvious that the number I was looking at was the mileage and it said 130k. Ugh. I could see a dollar sign but couldn't make out the numbers even with my glasses.

I was flustered. I couldn't get out of my car and check. I couldn't see from my car. I just couldn't see it at all! Doesn't this person want to sell this car? Why would they make the writing so small?

At that moment, a two men came out of the house. They both were wearing sunglasses and obviously going somewhere. The younger of the two seemed tobe leading the older gentleman by the elbow.

I pulled into the driveway a little more as they came to my window. They recognized me - I'd spoken in their ward a couple weeks earlier. They were nice. I told them I couldn't see as well as I used to and wanted to know about the truck. The older man smiled at that and told me all about it - it's a great truck in great condition. he is a mechanic and kept it running great with all the best stuff.

I asked why he was selling it. He eyes smiled from behind his dark sunglasses - he's selling it because he went blind.

All the sudden, my little glasses didn't seem so bothersome. And I seemed to see things just a little clearer.

Don't get caught with your pants down...

So my earlier experience this week with my skirt not wanting to stay on (see previous post) inspired this month's monthly message. I was going to write a different story, but this one just came out easier.

You can read it here:
http://us1.campaign-archive1.com/?u=320ba10a36abd9521cd30c5d9&id=367dc714d1&e=f7f1bef8a9

And I wanted a header picture that 'spoke" to good friends, so I googled around and couldn't find anything satisfactory. Then I ran across this old picture of me and my sister, Kat, at a belly dancing festival years ago. I had just performed. It was something we both loved.

Now that I think about it, I vaguely remember Kat telling me her own story of getting caught with her pants down...maybe that's why I chose this...

Skirting the Issue...

I went to a meeting that I didn't have. The door was locked and I waited outside for a few minutes before I realized the meeting was next week.

So I got back in my car and rushed to pick up some mirrors for the pageant (www.mswheelchairutah.org), got back in my car, and drove to the seminary building.

It was only 9 am and I was doing my 6th car transfer (I quantify the difficulty of my day based on how many times I had to get into and out of my car).

I guess that my skirt had had enough of my morning shenanigans and decided it needed some more time in the car. Without me.

So I am sitting in the seminary parking lot in my wheelchair with my legs still in the car (I hadn't lifted them out yet) and with my skirt around my knees - the waist part of my skirt around my knees.

Religious educators should wear their clothes. It just goes without saying.

So I did my best to pull it up and hurried inside before anyone could see me.

I fixed it in the bathroom. The whole time I had this Shel Silverstein poem in my head:

My beard grows down to my toes,
I never wears no clothes,
I wraps my hair
Around my bare,
And down the road I goes.

...too bad beards are against the facial-hair code for seminary teachers. I'd be tempted to grow one. (just in case this ever happened again, you know).

Ms. Wheelchair Utah Pageant

The pageant is right around the corner!

I am really excited - I have probably cried more times this year than in years past, but it is truly coming together. We have our first event (Orientation) this Saturday.

I love working with all the people who help me make this happen. It is amazing to get to know the people I've met along the way.

The pageant info is at http://www.mswheelchairutah.org/this-years-pageant.html

And info for Young Women groups is at http://www.mswheelchairutah.org/for-yw.html 

Yw groups can come to the pageant for $1 each (a dramatic drop from the $8 admission cost). Leaders of these groups get the same discount. Everyone must be in best dress for this coupon to apply. Please bring a copy of the page on the website or print the coupon on the site.

...and the YW coupon works for any group of teenage youth, young men or young women, LDS or not. The point of the coupon is to bring teenagers together to support the contestants, who are almost all their age, and also be uplifted in their own lives also. The pageant transforms someone's opinion on what "beauty" really is.



Priscilla

I have a pet!

Whit never had pets growing up, so this has been a long time coming. I have wanted a dog (he's not quite there yet), a cat (never going to happen), a chinchilla (yeah right), but he finally consented and we got...

...a chicken.

Her name is Priscilla. She is a "Cochan" - the kind with feathers on her feet. She is straight off a Mary Engelbright calendar.

My parents have always had chickens and my mom got Priscilla (she named her) and brought her home to join their other chickens but nobody liked her. The other chickens are regular Rhode Island Reds and were probably jealous of the feathers on her feet. Ayway, they pecked her, almost to death. She only survived because she stuck her little head out through the chicken wire and my dad found her, barely alive.

I guess she was at the bottom of the 'pecking order' - this is where that term comes from. I guess if there's no rooster, the chickens are meaner to each other.

So my mom asked and Whit said yes! So now we have Priscilla! I think Whit was hoping she'd eat the box elder bugs. She doesn't.

But she is seriously the calmest, most friendly chicken I have ever seen. She hops up onto my lap and just nestles down. I love it, even tough the whole time I'm thinking, "Don't poop. Don't poop. Don't poop."

She eats out of my hand - or anyone's hand. She comes running when I get home from. She is so cute.

Our neighbors have met her and have all commented on how mellow and friendly she is. It surprises us all. Even the cows love her. I don't know why, but they often come close to the fence and stare.

But she loves me the best.

We got her a friend, a Rhode Island Red from my dad's chicken bundle. We named her Roxanne. At first they didn't like each other, but now they're inseperable. Always running together through the yeard, eating the bugs (not the box elder bugs), and pooping on the deck.

They're favorite place to poop is the deck. Chicken punks.