Beauty..

This morning I braved the cold and snow to put in a little jogging, running, walking, etc. time at my local rec center.   I was doing a 10 minute stint on the stair-stepper and watching joggers run the track when I noticed one woman in particular.  She looked Indian (not native American but the real deal from India.)  She was probably in her late 50's.  She wore her hair simply - pulled back in a low ponytail.  She had on old baggy pants and a baggy shirt.  Everything about her indicated a lack of worldly goods.  Yet a countenance of goodness shone from her face.  Her eyes looked wise and happy.  I found myself looking at her with envy.  She was free from the bonds of material possessions.  She was free from enslavement to the gods of fashion and style.  There was not one ounce of make-up on her beautiful, worn face.  I thought to myself, "She is a blessed woman."   

Walking about 20 ft. behind her was another woman probably in her late 60's.  Her silver hair was perfectly coiffured.  She wore stylish snug fitting jeans.  Her make-up was flawless.  She too looked like a nice woman but I didn't see the same sense of freedom and happiness in her countenance as I did the Indian woman.  There was some what of a cultural entrapment.  

I probably won't be throwing out my make-up and clothing but I did pause to think about the insignificance of some things that we give way too much time and importance to.   I thought of Mother Theresa' comment that real poverty, poverty of soul, exists in the wealthy west.  And I thought of true beauty, the beauty of spirit which isn't limited to wealth or social status.  

CPK Elias Lorenzo found his Dad!

You'll be happy to know that little Elias was successful in his search for his Dad. Christmas Eve he was reunited via a Christmas present exchange with his Dad and new Mom. He was very happy and so was his new Mom.

I'm looking for my Dad.....

I'm looking for my Dad.....

My Dad left home over 12 years ago. I haven't seen him since. My Dad has brown hair and blue eyes. He was about 4' 2" when I was born but I have heard he is now 6'4". Me, I'm just about the same although I could use some new clothes. I've worn this same outfit for about 24 years. (For more info. click here.) I really miss my Dad. I think he got married last year and I would like to meet my Mom.

If you know anything about my Dad or where I might be able to find him please let me know.

Love,

CPK


P.S. This is my Dad when I was born.

Posted by Sally at 8:50 AM

I've been sleeping on the couch....

...not because I am mad at my husband but because the incline against the cushion is more comfortable on my ribs. It's been more comfortable than I would have supposed. About 3:00 A. M I finally make it into my bed.

Oh my aching ribs....

Hawaii + Waimea Bay + November + Boogie Board + Illusions of Grandeur = Cracked Ribs

Ouch! So far no signs of improvement. In fact, I think they are worse! I've done this before. You just live through it for about eight weeks. Four down, four to go. I'm blogging way too late out of a reluctance to go to bed. For some reason it hurts more to lay down than to be upright.

The shoreline looked like this...



And felt like this....



I'm still bummed I couldn't get past the wave break. Maybe next time!

...and to think we were actually considering surfing. We even went to pick up a surf board before we changed our minds. Silly, silly, silly!

Still the One....

I married the right man. Yes, it's been over 35 years since we tied the knot. I still distinctly remember kneeling down beside my bed one night in March of 1973 and asking Heavenly Father if I should marry this guy I had fallen in love with. Immediately, a feeling of peace settled over me. No need to pursuit it further I hopped into bed. A few Sundays later I sat in church contemplating the same question. I opened my scriptures and read,

"22 Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things.
23 Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?"

It was a done deal. He asked, I said, "Yes" and we were married Aug. 2 1973.

For the first quite a few years of marriage I thought we were meant for each other because of the many ways we were alike. We had similar opinions, enjoyed many of the same things and had closely aligned life goals.

Now I know we were meant for each other because of our differences. The time came when it gradually began to dawn on me that really we had many differences. Our time tables run on two separate, quite un-synchronized clocks. Food - he likes it plain and simple and I like new and exotic, or at least a nod to gourmet. He's a saver and I'm not necessarily a spend thrift, but I am an opportunist. If I see it and can think of many good reasons why it would be beneficial to own it, I tend to buy it without remembering the budget. He leads a fairly balanced life and I'm always falling off the deep end of over-the-top. (We won't mention what time I am writing this post as birthday apple pies bake in the oven for tomorrow - wait that would now be today! Note: Original Post written Nov. 29.)

We could go on but needless to say when one has been married for some time the similarities of the newlywed years give way to those aged with time differences.

And that is why I married the right man. Heavenly Father knew better than to put two people together who were just alike. There would be no one to balance out the act, to take up the slack or to temper weaknesses. And we still have similar opinions (much of the time), enjoy similar things, (usually) and have similar life goals. He's still the one after all these years. Lucky me!

Before..... Yikes!~

After....


Hee, hee!

We are Fam-i-ly.....

There is a happiness and satisfaction in family history work that only those who do it understand. I'm a fan and have been for six or seven years now. Currently I'm chasing down my French blood. (Oui, I'm part Frenchie!) Serendipitously, two of my children and my son-in-law all served church missions in France. Here is my favorite gold mine of a website for my French line. If you have European blood give it a shot.

www.geneanet.org

Snowmen at Night

One of my all-time favorite Christmas books is Snowmen at Night by Caralyn and Mark Beuhner.

Did you ever suppose that your smiley, stationary snowman went on a romp during the night while you slept?

And came home a bit tattered after the night's revelry.

No wonder he looks a little droopy in the morning sun.

The humor in the artistic details of partying snowmen is delightful. Take time to peruse this book if you have a chance.

Lincoln's worst Christmas ever....

was when I bought him a Cabbage Patch doll. Being the liberated mother of the 70's and 80's I was not going to limit my children to sexist toys. If my girls wanted trucks and cars so be it. I believed in fostering the sensitive nature of my boys and so why would I leave my one son at the time out of the Cabbage Patch craze especially when I could buy him a cute, little boy doll that looked just like he did!

I didn't realize it for years (about 20!) but Lincoln was majorly disappointed. He was horrified at the prospect of going back to school and telling his friends he got a Cabbage Patch doll. In fact, he didn't tell them. I offered to pull out that very doll stored in the tub in my garage for therapy's sake and he threatened to burn it if he ever laid eyes on it. I'm sure that's an exaggeration as he was laughing but then again.....

And while we are on the subject....

here's a bit of personal reminiscing on Cabbage Patch dolls. Ours, all 13 of them, are in a tub out in my garage. I can't quite bring myself to get rid of them. I've scrubbed them, washed their clothes and put them away for a time when some grandchild is dying to play with them. After all, considering the times (the 80's) and our financial condition as a young family, I paid dearly for them. I think the top price I forked over one Christmas was a whoppin' $45 each which was a real break from the tradition $7 dolls we were used to buying. And $45 was a steal. There were places they were selling for $65.00.

When Cabbage Patches first appeared on the scene I wasn't impressed. They were different and I wasn't going to be a part of this silly craze. Famous last words!! As I saw them in the stores and gazed upon each individual cherubic face with different colored eyes and hair and personality my heart was captured. They reminded me of my children. Of course I wanted to buy each one a doll with their same hair and eye coloring. One doll each grew to multiples - newborns, girls, boys, different skin color. I loved them as much as my kids did.

Anatomy of a Doll Craze

Cabbage Patch Pre-History (from About.com)

In 1979, Babyland General Hospital in Cleveland, Georgia began producing Cabbage Patch dolls. The dolls were designed by Xavier Roberts, a sculptor residing in Georgia. The dolls were very different than anything that had been produced before, and quite strange-looking at first glance. They had very round faces (almost lumpy!) and tiny, soft pudgy arms. The eyes were close set, and they had hair made of yarn. Each doll was just a bit different than the next doll, making each original "Cabbage Patch Kid" a unique individual. Babyland was also a unique place--the Cabbage Patch dolls were displayed in what looked like a real maternity ward, with the sales personnel dressed in maternity ward outfits, and the dolls "up for adoption" and not just for "sale" (of course, they WERE for sale, but the adoption gimmick really hit a cord with collectors and children). Roberts and his dolls made several television appearances, and the dolls became very well known.

Anatomy of a Doll Craze

Robert sold mass-production rights to his Kids to Coleco toy company in 1982. The Coleco dolls were very similar to the Babyland dolls, except that the heads were made of vinyl, not cloth. Each Cabbage Patch Kid came with its own unique name and birthday, adoption papers, and a birth certificate. And...due to random computer generation, each doll was, due to some small variation, a "one of a kind." Children loved the process of "adoption" for the dolls, where they would send the adoption papers to Coleco to adopt the dolls. Then, on the first birthday of the doll, they received a birthday card from Coleco!

For the first few years, Coleco couldn't produce the dolls fast enough. The marketing gimmick and television coverage combined to make sales explode starting in 1983. The doll was in short supply, and Christmases in the early 1980s saw parents scrambling to find dolls for gifts, as they fought scalpers and other profiteers who also were scooping the dolls up and re-selling them at large profit through newspaper and magazine ads. The dolls were in such short supply for Christmas that some stores had to call the police to control crowds waiting for the dolls, and other stores held lotteries to fairly distribute the dolls and to avoid riot-like scenes. Coleco posted record sales of $600 million in 1985, thanks to their Cabbage Patch Kids. Many people believe that Cabbage Patch dolls were THE fad of the 1980s.

More

It's belated but heartfelt....

Happy Birthday Kimberly!

(An innate characteristic of this blog is a constant stream of Happy Birthday posts!)

Kimberly Noelle was born Nov. 29, 1984. Her due date was somewhere around Dec. 15 so I really was not expecting her to appear on the scene quite so soon. Unlike Peter, Paul and Mary my bags weren't packed and ready to go. I believe I had run errands all day and had noticed a constant ripple of contractions, but I tend to do that anyway so I didn't really pay much attention. As the evening wore on and they continued, I ended up heading to the hospital. It was a very happy surprise. No mother is sad to circumvent the last two and a half weeks of her pregnancy. Kimberly had the sweetest, cherubic face and as Cabbage Patch dolls were an insane (and I do mean insane!) rage at the moment the nurses in the hospital dubbed her "the Cabbage Patch baby."

Arriving on the scene early was indicative of Kimberly's personality. She always has been eager to jump in the fray. She had five older siblings to catch. She crawled early, walked and talked early and kept on running. She had her first kiss at the ripe old age of three and was taller than Bethany (her next older sister) for a few years. (Bethany finally took care of that situation by seven or so inches.)

We had talked about naming her Noelle for obvious reason but when she sprinted in under the wire as a November baby we decided Noelle would have to take second place.

Kimberly has always added sparkle to our family.

Kimberly was married this past summer. We miss having her here but it's fun seeing her set up shop with Kevin. (One funny note - we already had a Kevin in the family and his family already had a Kimberly.)

Happy Birthday Kimberly! (A little late but as it's not Dec. 15 yet I figure I'm still good!)

I love you!

H*O*P*E

4 Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.

(Book of Mormon | Ether 12:4)

I love the concept of HOPE. Not the wispy version that is simply glorified wishing, but the kind with substance and power. Hope based on faith. Faith based on Christ. Hope is an anchor to our souls and keeps us from being blow hither and yon by adversity and trial. Hope in the sureness of God's promises, that there will be a better day ahead, keeps us steadfast and from despair.

Have you noticed that no matter how difficult or wrenching a situation is, with time it always gets better in some way. There is HOPE for the future.