5 year anniversary photo shoot

We are coming up on 5 years of marriage! Crazy! We haven't had any pictures done since our wedding so I thought now would be a great time to get some. I asked a friend with great photography skills if she would take them in exchange for us watching her kids sometime. She quickly agreed...a little too quickly! We had fun taking them and I love how they turned out!

Take your sippy cup already!

Today in Relief Society we were discussing how we have to ask Heavenly Father for help even though He already knows what we want and need. One of the women compared it to how she makes her children ask for things. She used the example of one of her kids coming to her with an empty sippy cup and wanting it filled. She makes the child ask for more, even though she knows exactly what the child wants. Another woman built on that comment by saying that sometimes, even if she is standing there, with the sippy cup full of milk, the child is so wrapped in his own crying and screaming that he is too busy to notice that the cup is right there. Then she went on to say that sometimes God tries to hand us the sippy cup. He is saying 'Dude, I have a world to run. Here's your sippy cup. Take it already!' That comment really got me thinking: How many times do I pray for blessings and then become too wrapped up in my own self-pity that I fail to recognize the blessing is right in front of me? I am crying and screaming for the full sippy cup, but don't take it when it is offered, because I don't and won't see it! If I ask for something, I need to be looking for the blessing. It may not come in the way I want, but I will get what I need. I may want a sippy cup full of pop, but instead get a cup full of milk, because it is better for me. Maybe I need to stop crying and screaming and take my sippy cup already.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Ok, so I am sure that many blogs over the next day or two will mention Thanksgiving and what people are thankful for, but I can't let this holiday pass by without writing something about it. Thanksgiving has always been one of my favourite holidays. I love what it stands for: gathering together with family and friends to celebrate the end of the growing season and the harvest. Growing up in a predominately agricultural area has helped me to appreciate more what goes into growing and harvesting our food. To me, one of the best sights in the world is to see farm equipment out in the field in late September, late into the night. Usually, you can only see the lights of the tractors, as they move up and down the rows, but you know what the lights mean: someone is working hard.

To often in today's world, we tend to be so negative and look at all the things that are going wrong in our lives. I found this quote that puts things in perspective for me:

H. W. Westermayer (Whoever that is!) said: The pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts… nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.

I am not going to list what I thankful for. My life is so blessed that I wouldn't have the time to list everything. But I will say that I am thankful for Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Why the man should always drive

Last Christmas Husband bought me a book entitled 1,000 Places to See in the USA and Canada Before You Die. My goal is to visit as many places as possible. Living in New England for 5 years made it possible for me to see a lot of places listed in the book. In fact, there are only two places in the book that I definitely want to go to before we leave the Eastern United States: The Baseball Hall of Fame and the Corning Museum of Glass. Because the Hall of Fame is on the way to Boston, we have decided to hit it up on one of our trips down there. The Glass Museum is a bit out of the way, but I am determined to check it off. We planned to drive there a few weeks ago, however our corner of Northern New York was hit with a snow storm, so we stayed home. Then last week, we planned to go again, but this time, the area the Museum is in was hit with a snow storm,so we stayed home once again. Friday, we were determined to go. We got up early, checked the weather and discovered that we would have to drive through not one, but two, bands of severe snow. I was disappointed, but undeterred: "We'll go on Saturday," I said. Saturday morning dawned sunny, beautiful and bitterly cold. But no snow! A quick check of the weather showed some small pockets of light snow along our route, but nothing to be concerned about. Nevertheless, we packed the car with sleeping bags, a shovel, and winter boots just in case the satellite map was wrong. I was extremely excited. After weeks of waiting and planning and cancelling, we were finally going to the Glass Museum! Just as Husband released the parking brake and put the car in gear, we heard this popping sound. Not too concerned we started out of the driveway, only to discover that our brakes didn't work! Husband had to press the pedal all the way to the floor to get them to engage. Me, being the brilliant one that I am, said "Maybe they are really cold." My dear husband gave me a look that only a husband can give: Wives, you know the look, the one that says "Oh you little dear. Thank you for trying to help, but you definitely know nothing about this, so just sit there and look pretty." We drove a couple of blocks before realizing that the brakes were not working at all. In fact, when Husband pressed on the the brakes, they would make a whooshing sound. A phone call to AAA, a 30 minute wait and one tow truck ride later, we were at the mechanics. Thanks to the generosity of great friends, we got a ride back to our apartment and waited for the call from the mechanic. Diagnosis? The brake power booster is shot. Unfortunately, because it is Saturday, they aren't able to get the part until Monday. So, since we are for the time being, a one car family,we are now a no car family at least until Monday. Not a real big deal. Just a minor inconvenience. We are grateful that we have a car and that it is a quick and easy repair.

I want to point out how happy I am that Husband was the one in driver's seat when this all happened, because goodness knows I would have never heard the end of it. Since Husband was the driver, objective reality clearly indicates that it was not Husband's fault the car broke. However, if I had been the driver, it most certainly would have been blamed on me, because after all I am a woman and all men know that women can't drive! I am sure that I would have had to tell my husband, in painstaking detail precisely what I had done from the time I got up that morning to the exact second I broke the car. But because Husband was the driver clearly no one is at fault, except perhaps the car manufacturer; the parts manufacturer; the car company owner; the guy who changes our oil; our mechanic, his wife, daughter and dog; the cold weather, Barack Obama; and of course, me because I drove it on Tuesday.

Thank a veteran

Growing up my parents instilled in me and my siblings a great respect and admiration for the men and women who have served and continue to serve in the military. I remember standing out in the cold and snow at my town's Remembrance Days ceremonies because it was what we did. I remember being intrigued by the stories from the eras of the World War I and World War II. My maternal grandfather fought in World War II and although I would beg him to share his experiences with me, he never did. Instead he would simply say that what he saw and experienced was better left in the past. As I grew older and learned more about these Wars, I began to realize the depth of the horrors that the men and women who fought in them saw. I recall reading about men who would lay in trenches infested with mice and lice, with 2 feet of water in the bottom of the trench, turning it into mud. Themes of fatigue and hunger are prevalent in the stories. I heard first hand stories from a veteran in my hometown about watching his friends die from enemy bullets.

Every year, Canadians wear poppies to show remembrance for the sacrifices of these men and women. The history of this practice can be traced back to a poem written by a soldier during World War I. John McCrae was a Lieutenant Colonel and he wrote this poem the day after watching one of his friends die in a battle in France:

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead.
Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
— Lt.-Col. John McCrae

I remember learning this poem in Elementary school and repeating it every Nov. 11. I will never forget the Remembrance Day ceremony when I was in Grade 6 and I was chosen to lay a wreath in memory of those brave men and women. I felt so honoured. Even at a young age, I knew that the men and women of the military deserved respect. They had sacrificed everything so that we could enjoy freedom. To me, that is what the Poppy signifies. And I wear it with pride

I have been to Arlington Cemetery. What a sobering sight. Rows upon rows of white headstones marking the graves of those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for their country. I recall standing there, in the middle of the sea of white and being moved to tears. It was then that I vowed to never let my children go a day without knowing about these people.

On the same trip, I went to the World War II Memorial in Washington, DC. The second I walked into the plaza, tears sprang to my eyes. I don't think they were tears of sadness, but rather tears of gratitude. As I walked around the Memorial, I came across an old man, dressed in his military uniform. I asked him if I could take his picture. He consented. After I took the picture, I shook his hand and said "Thank you" through a tight throat and tear-filled eyes. This man looked me right in the eyes and said "It was a honour to serve."

This Tuesday November 11 marks the 90th anniversary of the end of World War I. Since that day there have been numerous wars, millions of lives lost. Even as I write this, we are engaged in a war in Iraq and one in Afghanistan. Wars are never popular with everyone, and one of the beauties of the freedom we enjoy is that those who oppose war have the right to express their opinion. I hope those who oppose war realize that they have that right because men and women fought and died for that right. Whether you are for or against war, please take some time in the next few days to think about these sacrifices. And if you have a chance, thank a veteran.

I am blessed

This weekend I went to Massachusetts to attend yet another wedding reception. The bride was beautiful, the groom was handsome, the food was delicious and the company was amazing. I was able to talk with many people from my former church ward. It was nice to reconnect with the people who were my family for so long while I live in New England. While we were eating, my former Bishop told us about a conversation he had with the parking attendant at the hotel where the reception was being held. He said he asked the attendant how he was doing. The attendant's response "I am blessed". Everyone at the table commented on what a great response that was. One woman said "That is such a great way to always remind yourself that you have a lot to be grateful for." As I sat there listening to everyone's comments, I thought of how often I ask and answer that very question: "How are you?" or it's sister "How's it going?" We throw that phrase around without even thinking about it, and even as we ask it, we already know what the response will be "I'm fine, how are you?" or something very similar to that. Imagine asking that question and instead the person responds "I am blessed". I think that would cause me to pause and maybe even reflect on my own life and it's blessings. What a great response! And I plan on incorporating it into my daily life because I truly am blessed.