Milestones . . .

As of Saturday, we have been married 42 years.

 How can this be?!?
For starters I know I am not old enough for that.
That aside I have a few observations about things I have learned from the experience of being married this long.

You do not lose yourself when you compromise, control your words, go without, set aside your bias or sacrifice because you want the other person to feel love. Instead you begin to know love.

Saying "Thank You" for every little thing matters and is like dropping sunbeams around. Barry has taught me to say "Thank You" for everything. . . . everything. He will fix breakfast and then get up from the table and say "Thanks for breakfast" with a grin on his face. I love this guy.

Marriage is work and it can be really hard work at times. Most of the really hard work in life is the struggle to overcome ourselves. It is worth it. It is worth it to learn to be unselfish. It is worth it to come to realize that the other person does not see the world the same way you do and that is a GOOD thing! It is worth it to learn that making someone else happy is better, sweeter, and more fulfilling than just trying to make your own self happy because then there are two of you that are happy.

I wish I could have learned faster. But I am glad that I can learn and change. I am glad for 42 years to learn and look forward to more learning and changing.

I recognize that my faithful, loyal, and loving spouse is a great gift from a loving Heavenly Father. No words can really explain how grateful I am for this amazing gift that I have never deserved nor earned.

Yay for Anniversaries! Yay for marriage! Yay for us!

Same Channel, 2 Months Later

Last post ended in the cardiac unit at Utah Valley Medical Center.
This post starts like a serial . . . on the same channel. . .  2 months later.

Remember Dr. Hwang -- "Three months of rest!"

New job. Whoops! Not so fast.

This last week my life changed in a major way. I just didn't know at the beginning what that major change was going to be.

Monday morning I became the full-time daycare provider for Lachlan my #15 grandchild.
Lachlan was 2 months old on December 3.

You know how 2 month olds are - - they sleep alot.

Or they should.

Team Christopher - Strides for Autism

This is a letter we received yesterday in the mail from our wonderful daughter-in-law, Kristin.

Kristin is the beautiful, talented, amazing mother of three of our eleven darling grandsons.

(FYI Her boys are the ones with the kisses all over their faces in the post below.)

It is Love . . .

Maybe I've just been needing something to push me into a blog post.

Once you let things go for a while the inertia takes over and the avoidance behavior is easy.

I've been going to a class with Ann Lewis in Orem on family history and it has given new life to my journaling. It is spilling over into my blogging.

I think Garlick On Toast is about to be resurrected in a new form. Stayed tuned.

Andrea's Apron

It has been almost a year since I posted the last blog.
I am not going to try to catch up.
I'm just starting where I am with a few minor historical facts.
My wrist has healed - mostly.
I had stomach surgery in November.
I have a new grandson - New total: 10 boys, 3 girls!
I am running again :) but not biking. :(
I started working at a quilt store part time.
I have a new blog called  Sew Much Good.

This is where I publish tips and tutorials related to my own patterns by the same name - Sew Much Good. 

I call them 

Patterns that Teach 

because you can go to my blog and learn the skills you need for the patterns. 

So far I have two patterns - a Christmas Table Runner and an Apron.

My friend Andrea is a kitchen Fashion-ista! Her ruffled apron has been the envy of many a  kitchen co-worker at various church events. I kept telling myself, "I have to make one of those aprons." When the Circa 1934 fabric from Moda came into the quilt store where I work I knew I had to act.

Voila! Andrea's Apron was born!

I published the pattern one day later. Check it out on my new blog! 
(Give me one more day and it will be there.)


You may want to be a kitchen Fashion-ista, too!

Plaster Pete? No, Black Bart

Sometimes you just have to advocate for yourself. I am my own best advocate for sure.
Monday morning this week I was through with Clint, the Splint. (see below)
He had worn out his welcome.
From my sleep-depriveded perspective, the relationship had to end.
He was making life miserable.


I know better than to advocate for myself over the phone so I (carefully) drove myself to the orthopedic surgeon's office and very nicely said "Either someone here unwraps this thing or I will." 


I didn't think calling it Clint, the Splint would add to my case.


The nice lady behind the desk looked at her computer screen and said it didn't look like anyone was available. Maybe I could wait for my appointment on Thursday. We had a little discussion about 3 more nights with no sleep. She was really empathetic. 


She went to check with someone further back in the office. When she came back she said she was really sorry but I should probably wait until Thursday and under NO CIRCUMSTANCES was I to unwrap it myself. 


I looked at her with all the sincerity I could muster and asked, "What will happen to me if I do? Will I go to 'splint jail'?" (I am totally serious) Then I added very nicely, "I am here . . .and I will wait as long as I have to."


She looked at me for a couple of seconds and went back to talk it over again.


I can only imagine what she said. But she came back and said to take a seat and wait. . . 
I couldn't sit with Clint so I stood and swayed. (It's a thing we mothers do for comfort.)
Thirty minutes later this lovely smiling face called me back . . .


 (No way was I going to chance seeing the wires sticking out of my hand without my camera!)

I was prepared to plead my case but she said they would take the splint off, x-ray my hand and give me a cast. I confess wanting to hug her.

I didn't mention 'splint jail' and neither did she. . . 

You can skip the next series if you have weak knees for medical stuff. 

Barry would have been out in the hall for sure.

About right here I totally got why they didn't want me to unwrap Clint.

Notice the hardware. The dressing all stuck to it was apparently ruining my relationship with Clint.

So we proceeded to x-ray . . . You want my picture?  She was taking pictures of me . . . fair is fair.

Here's the one she took. . . .

I have learned you just have to ask for things . . . that is if you really want them.

Next stop the cast room . . .

This series is much nicer. . . 

So Clint was gone and I had a new friend for four weeks. Plaster Pete was really fiberglass not plaster . . . 

and he lasted four days.

Something about not splaying my skinny little fingers out when we were doing the cast . . . my thumb turning purple on the end when my hand got warm. . . etc.

I promise it had nothing to do with a neighbor girl assuming I chose Red for the Utes! 

What!? No!!

Any way today Plaster Pete was sawn asunder (literally) by Kendra the P.A and 'cast director' . . .

and replaced by Black Bart.

Here's hoping we get along better than his predecessors. Wish us luck.