JESSIE'S VEGAS

One night I had a dream. I was giving a talk of sorts in an old-style cultural hall at a stake center. As I proceeded, I was dismayed that the audience was not only not paying attention, but their voices were soon drowning out mine. I spoke louder into my microphone, but it was to no avail. As I looked down into the crowd, I was suddenly intrigued! I had to join their throng! Before I knew what I was doing, I was down in the mass of bodies, and we were all together in a celebration of the color gray. There was a low buzzing noise in the room as we were each comparing and listing to each other the events of our lives. Many of them were sad and disheartening. The more we spoke, the louder the humming in the room grew and the closer we grew in proximity to each other. My heart was feeling more burdensome by the minute as I heard story after story of heartbreak and trial. We also seemed to be growing closer to each other. It was as if we were desperate to find some kind of comfort or warm...

It rained last night and there is no better thing to a parched desert floor. Dust swirls up and meets the rain and combines into wondrous mud. Previously dirt-strewn roads are suddenly clean and shiny. Small puddles of mirrored water become impromptu baths for desert fowl or swimming pools for Jessie's tiny toes. I did not miss this delightful morning because I actually had a day off! Going through the papers in Jessie's backpack I am confounded that the pile of notices from the school has mysteriously multiplied overnight. How does this happen? I unfold a pink paper and I realize I am going to miss the Mom's and Muffins again ... working that day too. Dani says " Who's going to help Jessie remember her "dance moves" when she tries out for the talent show? Aren't you working that day too?" I stop a moment and wonder how I was able to participate so much more in the past with my children in their schooling. I already know the answer and I sta...

I awoke this AM and read my post from yesterday. I was horrified seeing so many grammatical errors and such! I decided I would just have to delete the thing or edit it for my English major comrades comfort. Something changed my mind, however, and I am forever glad. Just as perhaps Picasso created "free" expression in the art world, I am going freely expressive in the world of written prose. If you see a mistake, maybe it is there on purpose...leave it be. Just as I have learned to have a messy house, accept that my kids have learning disabilities, and that these wrinkles on my face are not going away, I am branching out into this. The fear of making grammatical errors has kept from writing in the past so...I am just letting that go and writing focusing on emotion instead of technicality . So there. Yesterday I returned from work after a two week vacation. I was all thumbs! I had twin babies again(cool)! But after the delivery I banded the second babecakes the wr...

Christmas was the favorite holiday of my youth. The favorite holiday of my grown-up years is Easter. While Christmas welcomes Christ into the world, Easter gives meaning to the world. Easter is like the climatic event of a well-written play, Christmas being the introductory few minutes.  What would a plot or story be where the hero is in conflict forever, or worse, yet,a story with an anti-climatic ending juxtaposed sharply after a life-time of turmoil? We have seen stories such as these where the poor soul is left to do the same heart-wrenching task over and over with no progress or end in site. I recall a horrible scene from The latest "Pirates of The Carribean XXI" which sequel???? Only my kids know this...Anyhow, Jack Sparrow is in an alter reality performing the same task over and over and seeing himself in different identities. It was considered a type of "hell" dimension and just the state the world would have been in if Easter had never arrived. My...