Organic

A thousand miles away lie the ashes of my youth.

Finite rain drops and honey squandered.

Ribbons of dandelions, green beans, butcher paper and sunbeams spent.



Housed in this grown frame stirs the child that fancied
pussy willows
thunder
mossy forest floors
and monarch cocoons delicately fastened to garden vegetables.



Molded in the iron ore.
Humbled by heterogeneity.
Impassioned by need and rural serenity.



Four children blossom in their father's place of origin. Familiar is his home and the soil he tread upon. The view from which he grew is within their sight.



My heart aches to transcend the miles and years-to show how and where, they also come from.

So as not to be lost in the shuffle of everyday...

because this is of very little interest to those who are not the parents of the following.



An account of the first vision, as understood by Norah and Lulu.

"What did you learn about in primary today?", asks the parent of Norah and Lulu.



Lulu says, "we learned about Joseph Sniff". "No, Joseph Smiff; the doctor cut off his leg", Norah says.




"Why is Joseph Smith important?", says the parent to the girls.



"Because he saw two Jesuses", says Lu. "No, he saw Jesus and Heavenly Father", says Norah. "Yeah, he saw Jesus and Heavenly Fader", repeats Lu.



"What did Jesus say to Joseph Smith?", asks the parent.

"That he needs to learn to play an instrument", replies Norah.

A Love Story

Michelle, made me realize that I've written very little when it comes to Rosemary(except to complain of the short term goal she undertook, to drive me insane).

So here you go.



Previous to Rosemary, I had been blessed with 3 beautiful children. Difficult, yes. But beautiful.



Norah is passionate and loving. But the girl never slept, still has sleeping issues. She also, has never been still, ever. As a baby she never allowed me to snuggle her close or rock her to sleep(slightly heartbreaking for a first time mother).



Lulu is a blessing in my life. She makes me a better mother. But she was colicky. She would start to fuss at 4pm. By 9pm there seemed to be nothing I could do to console her. Most nights her crying lasted until midnight, others until 3am.



With his enormous eyes, Abram has been charming right from the start. But, he woke repeatedly every night-until he was 2! When I decided I could no longer spend hours rocking, comforting, or breastfeeding him, he spent hours crying and screaming. You know how they say that if you let them cry it out, within a short while they learn how to put themselves to sleep? Yeah, right, unless you consider 18 months a short while.

Are you starting to see a pattern here? I used to tell people that I loved my babies, but I had a hard time liking them until they reached the year mark.

Enter Rosemary.



Besides those trying 2 weeks, Rosemary is a dream come true. I don't love her more than I do my other children, but I enjoy her. It's such a blessing to have a baby that is easy to enjoy. I'm so grateful that I get to experience her patient, gentle companionship. She reminds me to slow down, to hold her(and the others)close.



Her eyes always seek my company and lock upon my glance intensely without being demanding.



She is a hungry girl. Her appetite is voracious. She loves and seeks the enjoyment of her siblings. And they love her(mostly).



With each child, the feeling of familiarity has grown stronger. As I grow and develop as a mother, the sense of recognition deepens. When our eyes meet, somewhere, there is a glimmer of remembrance. I know Rosemary. She is familiar to me.



I have very few 'concrete' beliefs. But this I do know, salvation comes in the power of a babe.

Sabbath Snow Storm

Outside, snow flakes fell free and heavy Sunday afternoon.

Inside, children clamored for a bench seat to sit upon while stuffing stockinged feet into pink cowboy boots and Velcro sneakers.

Outside, a hush blanketed our street and gully.

Inside, a force, 3 children wide, pushed through a door jam breaking free into the escapable garage.

As the garage door welcomed the expanse beyond it, inside met out. Two girls and one boy fell silent under mother nature's offering.



After a moment, I prompted Norah to climb in the car. She said she was busy thinking about Jesus(I suppose that wins her a few extra seconds).

Upon a second prompt, she climbs in.

I turn to Abram and ask him to climb into the car.



He responds, "I tinking bout Jesus".

Hmmm.

The 80's Never Did Look Good On Me

I was a number of things in high school: thin, athletic, creative, imaginative, and fashion forward(this was easy to be in a small town). But living north-east of central Minnesota, amongst a sea of Lutheran Scandinavians, I could never quite capture cool.

One self-conscious 8th grade day, as I made my way into the cafeteria girl's lavatory, I passed a crowd of star-struck female adolescents under the tutelage of the 9th grade hopelessly 'cool' girl. Her name was Ann. She was blond(with frosted tips), she wore city slicker pink lipstick, her jeans were shredded beyond repair, she was 'developed', and she was ratting her hair. I surveyed the scene and realized very quickly, that I was very unlike Ann. I was skinny and underdeveloped. My hair was devastatingly dark, extremely unfrostable. My lips were too red to hide under the hip paleness of City Slicker Pink lipstick,my dad would have kicked my trash had I worn jeans with holes in them that close to my derriere, and my hair was too heavy to rat.

Ann moved to Alaska that summer leaving a vacancy for a new cool girl. This vacancy was soon filled by someone named Carrie, or Amy, or even Delray; never by a Mormon named Martha.

Somehow I navigated my way through high school without being able to catch coolness. Ironically, my so-called glory days came after I had returned from a mission.I had more dates and admirers than I wanted and it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Luckily though, I had one last shot at achieving 80's stardom.
Last night as I frayed my paint splattered t-shirt, turned my collar up, placed my feet in lace pumps(jealous?), and teased the heck out of my hair, I thought(as Wendy would say), "I look freakin' awesome".


After the hair 'fell' and with my extremely tall(seriously 6'2"?!)counselors.

I partied like a 16 year old and sang and danced my heart out. And at the end of the night, with my baby on my 36 year old hip, I made my way up the stairs and heard the 'cool' young woman say to me, "You're a really good dancer Sister Griffiths and I really like your hair".

Maybe I'm closing in on cool after all.

Preface

So tonight, Brad's music room finally becomes relevant. We are holding the YW/YM combined activity in said room for the purpose of 60's/70's/80's/90's superstar karaoke.I am dressing to the tune of an 80's superstar(because I am best acquainted with the bodacious fashions), and am thinking of something along the lines of this,



for my hair. And this,



(or something like it, perhaps a little less titillating, although that would be a good way to get fired) for clothing.
I'll post pictures tomorrow, I just wanted to make you aware so there could be a bit of anticipation, or at least forewarn you.

While I was shopping at Deseret Industries for some awesome attire, I came upon these,




white milk glass vases for $.50!



I've been collecting milk glass vases(for a much more expensive price)and am thrilled.

Hot dog! Not only is it a beautiful inaugural day, christened with joy and hope, but I got lucky in American Fork, Utah!

The Blessings of Creation

I'm a little better rested then I was last time we met. Rosemary is now sleeping most of the night only waking twice(at least that is what my husband says, I am sleeping down the hallway in Norah's room and am summoned when the baby needs to eat).

The neck is another story. I have now had this throbbing in my neck and forehead for 12 days. I've decided that I am going through menopause or something as equally devastating(hormonally speaking). In lay man's terms, my body is whack. I suppose I should go see my OB, especially since I never went in for a six week appointment.

The good news is, I have had the pleasure of being distracted by many a project this week. Of course, there is YW. I dreaded it's arrival on Tuesday only to find that the headache disappeared while we(again)made chocolate. Seriously, I'm so sorry Rosemary, I only had 3 bites.



She soon forgives me though.



Abram, on the other hand, is always a heart breaking project. He loves me, he loves me not.



The above is right before he hit me for daring to capture his tantrum.



On a sunnier note, I've been organizing and claiming the office as mine.



It is a warm, sunny spot that I can breath in and be my own.



I get to be the Martha that creates(a little)everyday, and it feels good.





Here are a few things I've been working on:







I am working on matching quilts for Norah and Lulu as we prepare to move them in together(oh brother). This is my first pieced quilt and it is not perfect, but I've really enjoyed it, although through this quilt it has come to my attention that I do not know how to count or how to measure.





I've had pictures and clippings stashed and set aside now for a years, waiting to grace a board. Now, since I have claimed this room as mine, I decided to go ahead and make one.



I bought extra fabric to make pillows for this window seat at the front of the office.



I've been decorating my home a tiny little piece at a time. Do you mind if I document each tiny piece?



One other thing I would like to document is my awesomeness at placing 2 children in time out at the same time.Holy mothering skills, I usually(very unsuccessfully)am only able to make one sit and not very quietly at that.

And I did all of this with a sore neck!
Blogging is the only way to (re)write history, no?