Sunday, December 30, 2007
Keep me from growing talkative and possessed with the idea that I must express myself on every subject.
Release me from the craving to straighten out everyone's affairs.
Keep me from the recital of endless details. Give me wings to get to the point.
Seal my lips when I am inclined to tell of my aches and pains. They are increasing with the years and my love to speak of them grows sweeter as time goes by.
Make me thoughtful but not nosey; helpful but not bossy.
Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be wrong.
With my vast store of wisdom and experience, it does seem a pity not to use it all. But thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends in the end.
.....I couldn't have said it better. Gott Nytt År!
P.S. help me to see that some of my clothes need to be thrown out!
The apron I am wearing in the picture below is as old as Megan and Amanda, and I just threw it away in 2007!
Saturday, December 22, 2007
duo. This was in Oregon, and we were all being silly and laughing so hard at ouselves, when someone saw Bishop Larson's wife drive up to deliver a Christmas present, and the duo did not want to be caught.....but were, in that big "picture" window. Closing with a more serious thought............
The following is a "Christmas writing" I did when Spenser was born.
There is a special bonding with Mary, when one holds their own Christmas baby.
A child born at this time, when the earth is troubled
brings a joy and hope that only December mothers know.
Just as it did then.
How blessed to be chosen to mother at this glorious time of year.
For the "peace on earth and good will" the "good news"
Lies bundled in a tiny soft blanket in your arms.
You hold that same hope for your child that Mary hoped for hers.
The love, the concern, the dreams, the promise, the hope -
How sweet to feel that "oneness" with her.
The difference is that she was in a stable, lit by a star
And you are in the warmth and safety of your home,
Watching the glow of Christmas lights play soft shadow games
On your baby's face.
Merry Christmas Everyone.
Friday, December 21, 2007
One must not only try it, but eat it and swallow it. Eventually it becomes an acquired taste and is very much loved by real Swedes. For some it is not an easy task, but to become a Viking, you must Do It! God Jul!
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
To blog or not to blog. We no longer have cute babies, little girls or boys doing cute things, therefore we don’t have much to offer in pictoral excitement ….however we have Bailey and Grampa and they are cute. It all happened when I looked at Natalie’s Haloween blog and she was reminiscing about early Haloween memories. The thought came that “I can do that”. Then in Sunday School a few weeks ago, someone (Pres. Jensen) made the comment that the Fishes were probably the only ones there who could remember the depression. Thinking about how many years ago that was does give us some clout in blogging skills of memories.. So here I am, a blogger. I have no idea where that word came from, it sounds like a plumbing problem. So, because it is Christmas, and because every year decorating the Christmas tree is a spiritual experience, I want to share a favorite poem with you. It is written by Lowell M. Durham Jr. When we had the LDS bookstore, every Christmas we would receive a 3 lb. box of candy from Deseret Book, with a card and a poem, several were written by Brother Durham who I think held the position with DB that Sherri Dew now has. It is called:
December starts the sifting
Through old orange boxes carefully packed
By hands wanting to save the traditions
From little hands that don’t know the ritual.
Mother’s windless winnowing through layers
Of lights and gold, stars and clothespin soldiers,
Is a sifting that renews remembrances of Christmas
Like a quiet accumulation of new snow.
She finds it there – in a safely protected corner,
A box in a box, a treasure swaddled in tissue,
Grandmother’s ancient ornament glowing with visions
Of all the Christmas times that were.
And now, held like an eggshell by hands too young,
The warm angularities of light teach again
The wonder of this new Christmas
And of all the Christmas times that ever were.
God Jul! Enjoy the photo memories. No captions as I have not learned how to do that….yet. I think you will recognize who they are.....and this is just the beginning...