the more i laugh, the more i'm a merrier me

....from Mary Poppins. It was the first movie I remember seeing. It was 1964, in the Wilma Theater on Sherman Avenue in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho where I grew up. Afterwards Mom bought us the record at Woolworths, and my sisters and I would play the song, "I Love to Laugh", over and over again, singing along and imitating all of the laughs. Each time the song finished, we'd pick up the needle and carefully place it on a certain groove of the record so it would start the song over again. This song made us laugh. Laughing is so contagious, and I do love to laugh.

Some great laughs just beg to be documented.

It was 1995, and my sister's wedding reception had just ended. She asked me if I would launder and return the tablecloths to the lady she had borrowed them from (whose name was Gay) because she was leaving on her honeymoon. Monday afternoon My mom and my daughter Charley (7 yrs.) and I drove down to Sacramento to meet her. We were to meet in front of the church at 2:00. We were running a little late, so when we pulled over at the curb in front of the church at 2:10, I was expecting her to already be there. As we were pulling over, a car coming from the other direction pulled over to the opposite side of the street, just across from us. We watched the 60-ish lady get out of her car and walk to her trunk and open it. She looked over at us, all watching her from the car. I smiled and waved and said to my mom,"Oh, that must be her....she's opening her trunk for us to put the tablecloths in." I opened my door, stood up... and called across the street to her, "Are you Gay?" She looked up, got a disgusted/confused/did I hear you correctly scowl on her face and said, "No!", hurriedly grabbed her bags out of the trunk, and practically ran up the steps to her house.

Then it HIT me, and I was paralyzed. I slowly sank back down into my seat and said, "I can't.....belieeeeve....I just SAID that!" There was a moment of complete silence, and then it hit my mom. She started laughing.....then I started laughing....and then it hit Charley. The three of us were laughing so hard we were crying, choking, wheezing, absolutey dying. We laughed for a solid five minutes. The real Gay showed up and we handed over the tablecloths.

On the drive home, it was nonstop gut-splitting laughter all twenty-five miles. I had a hard time seeing to drive because I was at the point of laughing myself to tears. I could just imagine that lady thinking that the three of us girls, of a variety of ages, were all "checking her out".....and that she stumbled into her house out of breath and told her husband, "You won't believe what just happened to me!"

When I first said it, and then realized what I had said, my immediate instinct was to run across the street and explain....but I stopped short for fear she would think I was chasing her! I had fits of laughing about that incident clear until I went to bed that night, and many times since. It still makes me laugh.

I wish I could call my mom and say, "Remember when we laughed SO HARD?" I'm happy that Charley was there with me, so that I have someone to relive that great day of laughter with.

I can think of three other crazy laughter times I want to document. They involve a trip to Sebastopol for pizza, an inherited money clip, and a back alley eatery in Old Town Sac called "Annabelle's". I'll save those for another time. "When things strike me as funny, I can't hide it inside....I've got to let go, with a ho ho ho ho..."

If you click here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTerKLeQBWk it will take you to the clip from Mary Poppins where Uncle Albert sings "I Love to Laugh". Dick Van Dyke and Julie Andrews....don't you love 'em?

building a cathedral

Several months ago I received this email from a mom I don't know, who subscribes to a list that I also subscribe to. It is entitled, "The Invisible Mom". I thought about posting it, but decided not to because of the length, then heard it read on Dr. Laura as her "email of the day" on my way home from school today. I remembered how much I loved it, and I hope you'll take the time to read it. It's worth it.

It all began to make sense....the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this ? Can you tie this? Can you open this??

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a
clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What
number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30,
please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -
but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen
again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!?

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return
of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip,
and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting
there looking around at the others all put together so well. It was
hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty
pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package,
and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of
Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her
inscription: "To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what
you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would
discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after
which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great
cathedrals- we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives
for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and
expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the
eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny
bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are
you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be
covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied,
"Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was
almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see
the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No
act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've
baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a
great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a
disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my
own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As
one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see
finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The
writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever
be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to
sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend
she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My Mom gets up at 4
in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a
turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That
would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her
to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her
friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if
we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will
marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been
added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

my best ever yard sale find was at my own yard sale in 1998

Everyone who knows me knows I love a good yard sale. To me it's like a treasure hunt, and exciting....you never know what you might find. This post is the story of an unexpected treasure I found at my own yard sale.

We met when she and her entourage of daycare kids came tumbling down Tweedsmuir Drive in strollers and wagons to our yard sale shortly after we moved in. She reminded me of the pied piper and her magic was worked on me like so many others..... and my heart told me we'd be friends forever. She bought the Fred Flintstone car at our yard sale......and that was the beginning of what has blossomed over the years into what I consider to be a rare friendship.

She's the friend every woman wishes they had. The "girl next door" (in my case, down the street), who calls you up after dark to meet her on the corner to share a piece of decadently dark chocolate from Trader Joes....the friend you know you can call on for help in any crisis, and she'll drop everything.....who makes you feel loved and accepted, even though she's seen you at your worst. She loves you just the way you are. She loves your kids like her own, and they love her like a second mother.....someone who is genuinely interested in every aspect of your life....who is completely real, and so unpretentious....who has a heart big enough to include everything and everyone, including stray animals and stray people....someone you can talk to about anything and everything and for hours on end. Someone who makes you feel like a kid again...full of adventure and possibility. Who would defend you to the end...who laughs with you, cries with you, and always knows just what to do and say in any situation. This is my friend, my "BFF", and I love her. I have learned so much from her, and want to be more like her. I want to have her gratitude for the little things, her humility, her unselfishness, her faith, her wisdom.

I have many that I call "friend", each with their own little special corner of my heart, all for different wonderful reasons. But today I want to pay tribute to Danelle, my Nelly, who is the best and most unexpected treasure I have ever found at a yard sale....strangely, it just happened to be my own.

Wisdom

Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful, or joyful.

My sister Kristen emailed me this slideshow entitled "A Beautiful Life"this morning, which included this bit of wisdom.
As I begin cleaning out the clutter in my life, starting with my bedroom today, I'll use this as my guide. I'm sure it will work for cleaning out the clutter inside my head as well! You'll have to view the slideshow...each page with great words to live by. Just click on the title "Wisdom", and you're there! Have a great day!

what I didn't buy today

Recently I had a very satisfying phone "conversation" with Allison. She was at home mending her jeans, while I read to her from my new favorite book. It is fun to be together when we can't BE together. The book is called "Thinking About Memoir" by Abigail Thomas, a writing teacher and successful memoirist. She counsels her readers to have a habit of daily writing as a way to "seed the clouds in the front and the back of your mind." To keep a notebook handy and "scribble in it everywhere." In August, on a visit, I was reading excerpts of this book to my son-in-law, Mike, who is studying Creative Writing at Utah State University. On my next visit in November, one morning he surprised me with my own moleskin notebook and Tul pen. With the best of intentions, I began writing, but loved this notebook so much that until today, I have kept it in a ziploc bag in my nightstand so that nothing could harm it. Today I liberated it and put it in my purse so that I can do as Abigail counsels: "Everything goes in: grocery lists, things to do, random observations, knitting patterns, recipes, overheard dialogue, everything....Think of it as the written equivalent of singing in the shower." Her book has inspired me to follow through on my desire to someday write my memoir. One of the entries in Abigail's diary is "What I Am Not Buying Today", and she has a list of things she saw and wanted to buy, but didn't. Here is my list of things I saw last night as Frank and I were out picking up a few things....things I thought about buying, but didn't.

No Curious George book about phonics
No package of 3 pairs of garden gloves in 3 attractive shades of green
No flax seed
No red spring baby outfit, 12 month size
No peach pie

So I'm curious....what did you not buy today?

jumping to conclusions

This morning when I took my vitamins, I smiled as I remembered the breakfast table in our house growing up on Wilbur Avenue. Mom had discovered vitamins, and each morning when we'd come to the table, which was always set, there would be a neat little line of vitamins of every color and shape at each of our places. I remember her saying, "This one's for your heart, this one's for your skin, this one's to make your bones strong..." and on down the line. I could never imagine having to put one of those things in my mouth, possibly taste it, much less swallow it! So I would eat my breakfast, then "pretend" to take my vitamins.....but really they were clenched in my hand. I'd go to the bathroom and flush them down the sink drain. I started to feel guilty wasting them, so I switched to concealing them in my underwear drawer. In no time I had quite an assortment in there, as you can imagine. Then, one day, my mom was babysitting her granddaughter Mindy (my niece) who was probably two at the time. Mindy came out of my bedroom with kind of a pasty blue residue around her mouth. Mom saw my open underwear drawer and immediately jumped to a conclusion. She had bought us girls some bright blue solid sachet tablets to put in our drawers to make everything smell nice. She concluded that Mindy must have eaten one, so she rushed to the drug store, bought syrup of ipecac, administered it to Mindy, and Mindy was puking her guts out before they could even leave the parking lot. Upon returning home, my mom discovered my stash of vitamins. All Mindy had done was eat one blue vitamin, which I'm sure was really good for her. Poor Mindy. Mom felt terrible.....and I was busted.

I myself jump to conclusions all the time. If I sense the possibility of danger, in a split second I can envision the whole tragedy from beginning to end. One day when the girls were little, we spent the day swimming at the Mill Pond. We came home tired and sunburned, but decided it would be fun to paint the girls' nails. I put the nail polish remover behind me on the toilet seat so that my little Emily (age 1 1/2) wouldn't get it, because I had this fear that she might drink it. I got busy painting nails, and the next thing I knew, I heard the splash when the bottle hit the floor. I whirled around and saw Emily's eyes, big and red, her mouth open in an "O" shape. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that she drank some, and that it also splashed in her eyes. Since she wasn't crying, I concluded that she wasn't breathing. In a panic, I snatched her up, and we raced to the hospital on top of the hill. In the emergency room the nurses pinned her down and forced her eyes open so they could flush her eyes for 20 minutes with a giant syringe of cold water. She screamed for about 10 minutes straight, until she was exhausted and fell asleep. They continued flushing her eyes for another 10 minutes. Meanwhile, Allison, Samantha, and Charley huddled together in the corner of the room, their faces buried in the corner, bawling their eyes out. It was traumatic. But I had saved her from possible blindness. On the way home, I heard the following conversation in the back seat of the car:
Allison: "Emily, did you drink it?"
Em: "No.......".
Sammy: "Did you get it in your eyes?"
Em: "No......."
Oh dear.....So all she did was knock it over. Poor Emily....Her eyes were simply red from too much sunshine that day, her mouth in an "O" of surprise...that's all. Nothing more.
Lesson learned? Somewhat. I try not to jump to conclusions, and you better believe Emily steers clear of the nail polish remover.

please leave a message after the beep

It all started with Mason, my now 9-year-old nephew on Frank's side. He called right before Christmas in 2007 and left a message on our answering machine. He was singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas".....twice through. My favorite part was "good tidings we bring, to you and your KIDS (instead of "kin")and his closing, which was Love, Love you Emma, Love.... Mason. It was so cute, that I had to save the message...and thus began the practice of saving phone messages. Here are messages 2-10:

Nancy (my old college roommate): "Called to say 'hi', I just lost a dear friend and it made me think about how much I love my friends, and I just wanted to tell you I love you..." She was in her car, driving to Utah for the funeral. Her voice was full of emotion. She's been such a devoted friend since we met at Little Apartments at BYU in 1980. I couldn't erase it.

Allison's old Seminary teacher, apologizing for the lateness of the hour, but he had just picked up the mail and received a letter of gratitude from Allison that had really touched him. He told me later that he "got a lot of miles out of that." It made me happy to know that she took the time to say thank you. Everyone loves to know that they are appreciated and made a difference, and he certainly did.

My Dad: "Hi Jo....this is Dad, I just came home from the Dr.'s office, and uh, saw that you called me. Just wanted to let you know that I'm OK." I love my Dad, and will want to be able to hear his voice at some future date when he is gone, telling me that he's OK. This is a treasure.

Allison (oldest daughter in Huntington Beach): "Hello? Hey mom, it's Allison...um, I was just calling you to tell you that I dropped my phone in the toilet, so if you're trying to get ahold of me..... Love you, bye!" Ohhh....I have gotten that same message about 3 times since she left home! It made me laugh.

Sammy (married daughter in Logan, Utah) "You guys are slackers....why aren't you answering your phone? Hello? Emily? I just talked to you....!" I'm picturing one of those moments where everyone is comfortably lounging on the couch or chair, all looking at each other, hoping someone else will jump up and get the phone so they don't have to move. Losers!

My Aunt Mary, 90 this year, my favorite aunt ever on my Dad's side: "Joanne, this is Aunt Mary, and I was, uh, calling to find out about your dad, call me....I'd like to hear from you....", and then she left the wrong phone number. It was the phone number for Macy's department store. I'll never forget when we took our young family to her home in Modesto for a visit in 1990. I was pregnant with Emily. She had planned this huge water gun/balloon fight in her back yard for the kids, and cooked the biggest lasagna I had ever seen. My sister Kristen and Frank's brother Monte joined us as well, and we took lots of videos that we love watching. On that video is an "interview" of my Grandpa Simon! He was a character.

Jenny (Wells)Miner, a former special student of my husband Frank's: "Hey Shields Family, this is Jenny Miner, just wanted to say hello and see how y'all are doin'....". Frank always says that Jenny is the happiest person he knows. She truly never stops smiling! She is a huge Vince Gill fan, who the Sacramento country radio station called regularly to put on the air. She graduated at least 10 years ago, is married with two little boys, and has called us regularly through the years. She is the epitome of happiness, and absolutely lights up a room.

Sam, Mike, and Claire (daughter, son-in-law, grandbaby): "We just wanted to say hi, and Claire wanted to laugh...."....and the cutest little laugh from Claire, when she first figured out how. Her laugh reminded me of a laughing doll that we gave Charley for Christmas when she was 1 and 1/2. I miss that doll, but now we have a real live doll of our own.

Emily (youngest daughter, 18), who was riding along to an appointment with Allison when she was here for work last month: "Let me guess....Sammy's breastfeeding, Charley's laying on the couch with her laptop, and mom is taking a nap. CALL ME....BYE". The funny thing was, she was EXACTLY right!

NOTE: Charley, I know you don't like to leave messages, but I'm waiting for one from you to complete my tape. There are only about 2 minutes left on this one! Then it will be retired to my bottom dresser drawer with all of my other treasures. I also am waiting to save a message from Frank, but his usually just say, "Jo? Jo? Is anyone home?" And then he hangs up. I'm usually RACING to the phone, but never make it in time because he is too quick. Either that, or his messages are "inappropriate."

Since my mom passed away almost 9 years ago, I have so often longed to hear her voice again. I wish I had thought of saving messages years ago. Fortunately, I do have her on video. But it's nice to be able to just push a button in my kitchen at any time to hear the voices of those I love. If my mom left a message for me today, I wonder what she'd say. I will be thinking about that all day today.

This is just my first tape. I hope to fill my drawer with messages from the ones I love.

Secret to Beauty

...always to be looking at someone who loves you.
~Julia Roberts

Killer Dress

Did you know that a dress can kill you? I didn't think so, but I found out last week that it just might be able to.

I was shopping in Target when I passed by a dress that caught my eye. I stopped in my tracks, took a couple of steps backward, and examined it. This dress had a lot of structure (ie., might make me look better than I really do). I took the dress off the rack and headed for the dressing room. I was alone. That part is important. I quickly got undressed and began pulling the dress over my head. You see, the dress had no zipper in the back, just a little one on the side. It was constructed of luxurious stiff brown fabric with crisp pink lining. No "give" whatsoever. As I was pulling it over my head, my subconscious casually reminded me, “You’re claustrophobic, and you might get stuck in this dress and suffocate.” I thought, “Yeah, but..... it might look really good on me! It’ll be OK, once I get past my shoulders.” So I continued. My next thought was a memory…. of Emily telling me that one time after church she was home alone, and was taking her dress off over her head because her zipper was stuck, and that she got stuck in it, and literally almost suffocated. I consoled myself by saying to myself, “What are the chances of that happening to two people in the same family?” So, I continued.

With not too much effort, I was able to shimmy the dress all the way down. Whew! There. Good. It was a little tight, but not too bad. This was looking like a possible keeper! I slipped my hands in the side-seam pockets, and was a little confused that my hands went to the back of my body, instead of resting on my hip bones like you’d expect. Oh. Weird. I guess some people just don’t know how to sew! Hmmph! I considered myself in the mirror, and noticed that it wasn't all that comfortable feeling. I suddenly realized that the covered buttons down the front were really supposed to decorate the back of the dress! Oh. So I had the dress on backwards. Great. Then….. horror of all horrors, I suddenly realized that somehow, SOMEHOW, I had forgotten to take off my blouse before trying on the dress, It was all bunched up under the too tight, backwards dress with no zipper. That is when panic set in. I was scared to take off the dress. What if it got stuck when it was halfway off? What if I suffocated and died in the dressing room of Target?

I calmly considered my options. ONE: I could ask the dressing room lady for help, but that would mean that I would have to expose myself....underwear, fat, etc. Not good. TWO: I could gather my things, walk out with the backwards dress on and scurry to the checkout counter and say, “I’d like to purchase this dress I'm wearing backwards and can't get off. Here, I’ll just lean over and bend down a bit so you can scan it.”….. then smile and casually leave the store with a scream of horror stifled in my throat. Possibly. THREE: Preserve my dignity and try to get the darn dress off. I chose number 3. I mustered my courage, took a deep breath, and reassured myself by saying that logic dictates that if I got the dress on, it had to come off. What goes up, must come down, or something like that.

I crossed my arms in front of me, grabbed both edges of the hem, and lifted the dress over my head. Except that it never made it over my head, but got stuck on my shoulders. My arms were straight up in the air, folds of dark brown fabric pressed against my nose and mouth, and darkness engulfing me. I was running out of air. I considered my options. ONE: Yell, “Help!”, and then instruct the dressing room lady to crawl under the dressing room door because I could no longer reach the latch. Adding that humiliation to the underwear and fat sighting would be just too much to bear. TWO: Lay down so I could reach my purse, fumble for mycell phone, and call Emily at school and say, “Emily, get down to the Target dressing room right now and help me or I might suffocate and die!!!” She’d probably ask a million questions, and by that time I’d already be dead. Not an option. THREE: Feel around for the miniature scissors on my key chain and start snipping as fast as I could. Dumb idea. That’s ruining a perfectly good $39.99 dress! FOUR: (My number of options is increasing? I'm confused….) Muster all of my bionic woman strength, say a prayer, and get the dress OFF. I chose Number 4. That’s what I did.

After what seemed (and probably looked) like a brawl with the dress, it fell to the floor. Actually, I thrust it to the floor of the dressing room. Then I looked in the mirror….hair tousled, face red, panting….I looked myself right in the eye, pointed a finger and said, “You! You are SO STUPID! You could have been killed! All for a stupid dress!!!!!” Then I mumbled, “I hate this dress…..”, and I nearly growled at it.

I hurriedly got dressed, exited the dressing room, and headed back to the rack, still catching my breath. As I hung the dress on the rack, I noted that there was another one, one size bigger. Hmmmmm......I thought, “Well….it iiiissss a cute dress!” I grabbed it and headed for the check-out counter. Unbelieveable. I bought it. But! I didn’t try it on until I got home and had supervision. :)

I ultimately decided that it was a cute dress, but not cute on me, and that I really did need to lose 30 pounds. A few days later, I found a dress in almost the same style, with comfortable, forgiving fabric, and a zipper in the back. I love it! And best of all, it isn't life threatening!

So beware, ladies! Learn from my experience. A dress really could kill you!

Time to Begin

I have been wanting to start my own blog, but waiting for a good reason to begin one. I think this week I found it.

Yesterday I received an email from the mother of my best childhood friend....Randelle. Her mom reminded me that tomorrow would be Randi's 48th birthday. Randi passed away in April of cancer. Tomorrow, after running in the Race for the Cure, Randi's family and friends will be visiting her gravesite to share their sorrows and memories, and to celebrate Randi .... her life and all she meant to them. Her three daughters, near the ages of my own, her devoted husband Mike, and the dear friends she made along the way will never again in this life be able to share special moments with her. We each hold our memories of her close and look forward to a grand reunion someday.

I want to begin writing down my thoughts, my memories, my hopes, and my dreams, while I am still here to do it. I'll write about the things that matter to me most, which are many and varied, but all of which can be distilled down to my love for my family and friends. This blog is really for you. I hope it will be a monument to my gratitude for all of the little things in my life that make me smile and bring me great joy.....so that someday when I'm gone, there will be a record of how happy my husband and daughters have made me, and how fortunate I am to have been blessed with good friends. Starting today I will attempt to make a memorial to what I consider to be my wonderful life.....the trip I choose to take.