Flipping. Deseret. Book.

It is pretty much no secret that these folks are not going to be making my favorites list anytime soon, but recent events take the cake.

I live nearly two hours from the nearest Deseret Book. (Yes, Mom, you'd refer to this as "the mission field.") For one of our crafty-day projects, in October, if you recall, we made these photo album Sacrament quiet books. I wrote a little doctrinal thing about the sacrament, simplified for young kids, to match the pictures in Greg Olsen's small picture kit called "Images of the Savior." You put the words and pictures mounted into a photo album. The result is quite sweet. These cost about $8 each to make and several sisters signed up for multiples in order to give them to grandkids for Christmas.

Eighteen kits ended up being ordered. As soon as I had the money, two weeks before the Souper Saturday, I got on-line and ordered what I wanted. I put the money in my account and then I waited. And waited. And waited.

The day before I needed them, I called Deseret Book. Sorry, they are on backorder. Hmm . . . and you didn't let me know this over my email because? I mean, isn't that the POINT of having such technology? Not to worry, they assured me, they will be here in mid-November.

I passed on that information and when I had nothing by the 20th of November, and also realized they had never charged my card to begin with, I called again. Sorry they are on backorder. Again? Do you ever tell people anything? Well, she said sweetly (she is probably somebody's grandmother), I can tell you that our next shipment will be here December 14th and that we will FedEx them to you right away. OoooKaaaaaaaay. Oh, and you have until the 4th to cancel the order if you need to.

I spent a good chunk of the rest of that day calling the women who had signed up for the project to find out if they wanted me to cancel their orders and they could just get them at DB next time they were there? I could refund money? You know the drill. It was a huge headache.

Then, Saturday, I went to the temple with a friend who was getting her endowment. It was a lovely day, if a bit hectic. (Plantboy and I went together and left the kids for a few hours with a friend that moved there from our ward. It turned out to be an 8 hour round trip. And while it seems really sacrificial and righteous for the temple to be such an effort, I mostly just grumble and wish it was closer.) On a whim, we found the Deseret Book and hunted all over for the pictures.

I think the pictures are on backorder because the Portland Store is hoarding at least 250 of these things.

Very cleverly, I put 18 of these babies on my credit card. Plantboy, acting as the voice of reason for a change, said, "are you sure you can cancel the other?" Oh, yes, I assured him, I have until the fourth. But this is perfect. Everyone will now get them well in time for Christmas and I don't have to deal with it any more.

Sunday I took an hour and half to deliver them. Why so long? At every stop I was asked to do something. Each request was prefaced with, "I'm so glad you dropped by! I've been meaning to call you . . . " Monday I crashed big time. Don't even ask me how many hours I read or what kind of cheesy re-read romance novels I had my nose stuck into. (Okay, one of my selections was Twilight; and no, my opinion has NOT changed.)

Yesterday morning, I opened my e-mail to find the following cheery message from Deseret Book, "You're order: qty 18 "Images of the Savior" has been shipped!"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How is the h*** is November 25th the equivalent of December 15??? By what stretch of the imagination is "you have until December 4th to cancel" the equivalent of them sending the cards Sunday night? When I called, the grandmotherly voice on the other end apologized about 400 times, all the while repeatedly telling me that there is no way that a representative from Deseret Book would have given me an exact shipping date and then gave me a crash course in the logistics of DB's ordering structure. She also emphasized how unreliable ordering over the Internet was and that they would be happy to take a phone order any time. Thanks for that. She did, however, graciously offer to send me a return slip. Here is how this will play: I get the order; I wait for the return labels; I repackage the order so that it doesn't say "FedEx" anymore; I drag my pre-schooler and toddler to the post office to mail the thing; I wait for the order to clear through DB and THEN I get refunded. Oh, yeah, my checking account SO needed the $80 hit four weeks before Christmas.

I must go bake. It will help to ease some of my anger at the universe. On the upside, I caught Tiny Fey as a pirate on Sesame Street this morning. She said that they needed to come up with some words that began with a pirate's favorite letter.

Yes, Yes, I thought it was "RRRRRRRRRRR" too.

But no, Tina argues, pirates love F-words. Well, that seems appropriate too.

Gratitude. Gratitude. Must remember to be grateful . . . .

Blogging So That I Don't Kill Someone

No worries. It is just a customer service rep. She is safe from my awesome physical prowess.

Because I Think I'm A Teenager Like That

Last night at book group, one of my friends said, "We've got an extra ticket. So how about it, huh?" So at midnight last night . . . .



The last movie opening I went to was one of the Pirates movies a couple of years ago. I vowed that I would never do it again as it was me and plantboy and 100 slutty pirate girls. (Their dates were just weird, not slutty.) Still, last night I found myself in a theatre crammed with screaming teenage goths. Some of whom were very slutty. Good times.

What about the papers you say? Oh, I just picked them up and delivered them on the way home from the movie. I'm going for nocturnal this week. It is really not working for me.

A Time of Thanks. And Stress.

In Australia, they use the term "whinging." Like many Aussie words, it takes a bit of translation. First of all, it is pronounced "win-jing." It is similar to murmuring, complaining, and grouching. Most Aussie-isms are abbreviations or combinations of other words. This one is a like like "binge whining," which is highly descriptive. I've griped to just about everyone in the last few days, so while I'm on a binge I thought I'd whine to you a little bit here too.

Nearly a year ago, our the Enrichment counselor and I booked all of our dates for 2008. Twice now, the activities committee, scheduling just a few weeks late has either booked over our activities or within close proximity. Our summer activity had to have a last-minute move because of the ward camp out. Now the ward's Christmas party is just two days after our RS Christmas Social. (Don't even get me started on how bad I hate that we are doing a social instead of a service project at Christmas time.)

This doesn't sound too bad, except that the ward activity is easily the biggest of the year. It is probably better attended than most of our Sacrament meetings. The activities committee commandeers anyone who will say yes to help. Which, in our ward, unfortunately, is not a very large number of people.

Three days before Souper Saturday (NOT a misspelling) and the day before Jedi Master's birthday party, the Activities Committee Head Person calls and says, "I just need to ask you something; now I know you are busy."

"Yes. What is it?"

"Just think about it before you tell me no."

"Yes. What is it?" The panic rising in my voice now.

"I have tried to think of someone else but your name just keeps coming back to me."

"Debbie. What is it?!"

"Would you be in charge of the program for our Christmas dinner?"

The overdone, too-long, noisy production from last year flashed through my head. As well as the word "Herdmans." I am sure that she picked up on the silence at my end. She repeated, "I know you are busy, I just felt so strongly that I had to ask you."

Later I said to Jeff, "What do you say to that?" He shrugged and mouthed the word "no." When I told the story to my snarky and sometime irreligious little sis she said, "Good grief! Does she think she's the bishop? She didn't need to act like an angel had come to her and named you as the chosen vessel!"

I am not the chosen vessel, but I did not say no.

I was given a small committee who is mostly out of town for the next two or three weeks, a program I greatly disliked, and no real direction to go.

I'll spare the rest of the gory details, but between the social and the program, I think I have easily put in 20 hours for church in the last week and a half. Maybe 30. On the upside, after December 6th, I get to cruise for about six weeks. And the Youngling will enter nursery, so at least I might get to sit through a couple of church meetings for a change!

Whinging done, now on to the things I did today to find a bright spot in my too-much-Mormon-culture-universe.

I made amazing cookies this afternoon. A-flippin'-mazing. Use Ghiradelli's sweet chocolate chips and their recipe with the following modifications: Use half butter, half shortening; Increase the flour by 1/3 of cup and add 3/4 cup of oatmeal; add a cup of peanut butter chips with the chocolate. The secret to any fantastic chocolate chip cookie, however, is to cook it just until the shine is off, let them sit for about a minute on the pan and then cool. They will stay soft all week. If they last that long.

Padawan made pilgrim and Indian hats at pre-school this week. Youngling wanted to try one out, just like he saw his older brothers do.

The second this hat went on, the hand went to the mouth and "Ay, yi, yi" started. He can't talk, but he sure loves to copy.

Jedi Master then said it was time to do a little pilgrim-Indian show. He rowed the couch to the new land of America. When he arrived, Padawan greeted him and showed him how to plant a fish with his corn and helped him build a house.

Then, his headdress regained, the Youngling began chasing his brothers all over the house. As with most of our games, this one ended in a wrestling match.

It only took 500 years, but it looks like the Indians finally came out on top.

The third great thing that happened today is that my mom surprised me with the news of a spontaneous visit in mid-December. They found uber-cheap tickets and will be here for Padawan's birthday. I cannot even express how happy this makes me. This year will be the first that we have not been with family or had family with us for either Thanksgiving or Christmas. I'm a big girl now with a family of my own, but I didn't realize just how much I wanted to see family for the holidays until my mother gave me her news. Though they won't be here exactly for either of them, their visit will certainly lift my spirits after all the above rigmarole.

Like you, my posting may be fairly irregular over the next several weeks. Happy holidays everyone. May you find the peace that you crave.

Footloose and Fancy Free. And a Little Sick to my Stomach.

Plantboy is out of town again. Why is it that two nights away from hubby and I revert to bachelorette mode?

He has been gone about 24 hours, and I've accomplished quite a lot--mostly because I threatened to abolish story-time if I wasn't given help to clean up the house RIGHT NOW, LITTLE MISTERS. But I also realize that this 24 hours has been full of wastes as well:

I watched TV until nearly midnight, including the CMA's which would never have flown with Plantboy home. I flipped between that and another show I like, only to miss Keith Urban singing his new song, which was the main reason I was watching the CMA's to begin with. And no, Nem, his shirt was not unbuttoned to his navel even once. Does anyone else think Nicole Kidman isn't so much aging as she is turning into an alien? After the CMA's I spent an hour watching "Sahara," which is actually a pretty good movie, as far as that sort of thing goes. Which is more attractive? Matthew McConaughy without a shirt, or Steve Zahn being hilarious and needing a hat? If you said "Plantboy," you got the right answer.

Having missed The Keith, I then surfed the Internet until 1 a.m. hoping someone had posted footage from the show. No luck.

I read nearly 250 pages to finish my novel: Spindle's End. I love Robin McKinley, but this was a little obtuse for my fantasy-light taste. More along the lines of Rose Daughter than The Blue Sword. (If you've read McKinley, you'll know what I mean. If not, you MUST read Hero and the Crown and The Blue Sword.)

Corn dogs. Two. I ate two corn dogs for "dinner" last night. Even my kids won't eat corn dogs.

Not wanting to make my bed again, I slept on top of my covers with a blanket over the top. But only on half the bed. The other half is covered with junk from the emptied furniture I was supposed to spend some time refinishing today. Oh, and I took a nap.

Pizza. Homemadish, but still pizza.

After a morning of errands, I put on my flannel PJ bottoms for comfort during the housework; I also wore these for my nap. The Jedi Master getting home from school woke me up. The first words out of his mouth were, "Are you STILL in your pajamas?" I was a little defensive.

Dr. Pepper. Ooo! That reminds me--the other 20 ounces are still out in the car.

Chocolate. Of course. It's only 9:30, west coast time. Who wants to come hang out?

More Buckets

Yesterday Plantboy had to take a day off because he went out of town for several days last week. I told Plantboy that I thought I'd take a day off too. I spent most of the day Christmas shopping. I also treated myself to a guacamole bacon burger at Red Robin. I ordered double fries and drank enough rootbeer to rival the ward campout intake. While I ate my luscious lunch I read and I did NOT wipe any faces or break up any fights.

If you haven't done this for a while, please, take a day off. It was pretty much awesome.

I also bought supplies to make up a few more of my gift buckets--these ones for the ladies I visit teach. Though there are 80 things on the to-do list before Christmas should really be addressed, my project has put me a bit in the mood today. They are rather festive. I'm going to fill them with hazelnut clusters. Don't you wish I visit-taught you?

Looking for a Little Hope

Between the rain we've had all week and the time change, it has been getting dark by about 4:30 here. So I've been looking for a little bright spot.

And I've found it in a big way.

No, I don't just mean Barack Obama being elected. Though, I must say that I had waited a long time to vote for him: probably since I first read about him in the Spring of 2004. So, despite all that is hard about this new world we have found ourselves in during recent months, I would like to now give here my reasons for hope:

* A dignified and gracious concession speech from a man who is a great American patriot and will continue to serve as a voice of balance and careful compromise in the US Senate.
* The non-realization of the so-called Bradley Effect, indicating that there are probably fewer "closet racists" in the country than most of us assume.
* Nem's post from yesterday has made me feel liberated about believing strongly that I can be a faithful Latter-day Saint and still subscribe to much of the philosophy found in the Democratic party.
* A dignified and gracious acceptance speech from a man who made little effort to boost his own merits but instead pledged to work on behalf of every American, regardless of how they voted.
* An election decided, decisively, within a few hours instead of days or months so that our new president will take office without a cloud over his head and with a mandate to govern.
*Nearly 120 million Americans showed up to be counted yesterday. Votes DO matter.
* A president-elect who is practically in my generation who is smart, calm and forward-thinking.
* A renewed determination to do my best to be a responsible citizen and to raise my children to be the same.
* Church leaders who remain optimistic about the opportunities to be found in the very trials that are knocking at the door.

It is the opportunity of our generation to remake our country. The more I meet and interact with the bright, committed men and women who are young parents now, the more I believe that we can make the world a better place.

We The People

At 8am on November first I should be posting pictures from our fun Halloween times last night, but Plantboy went out of town yesterday afternoon, and in my rush to make it to Tabula Rasa's Halloween Party I remembered everything but the camera. We had fun: the kids will just have to wear the same costumes next year to get the memories for posterity. Yeah, yeah, I can dress them up today, but October is so yesterday and I'm just not in the mood.

Instead, I'll turn to giving a PSA announcement. When I opened my email this morning, I answered a survey from my on-line bank, where I manage my tiny, but growing, savings accounts. (ING Direct, which I love by the way.) After the survey, they took me to this page. I like this idea of a grassroots "We the Savers" movement. Imagine that, our church leaders and grandparents have been telling us the truth all along about paying as we go.

Now, switching gears a bit, I was reading an article a couple of weeks ago about the history of the balloting system here in the United States. It was fascinating. I am continually amazed that our democracy has survived at all. My favorite part was the following paragraph:

"On Election Day this November, I’ll walk around the corner to vote in the basement gymnasium of a neighborhood elementary school, beneath a pair of basketball hoops. At a table just inside the gym, a precinct volunteer will hand me a piece of white paper about the size and weight of a file folder. I’ll enter a booth built on a frame of aluminum poles, tug shut behind me a red-white-and-blue striped curtain, and, with a black marker tied to a string, I’ll mark my ballot, awed, as always, by the gravity, the sovereignty, of the moment. With the stroke of a pen, we, mere citizens, become We the People."

A couple of weeks ago my mother-in-law and I had a conversation about voting. She talked about how there was sense of community solidarity about going and standing peaceably in line with people who would cast their ballots differently than yours. About standing shoulder to shoulder with men and women whose fundamental ideals of government and life disagree sharply with yours. And yet, there we stand, ready to make our voices heard, whatever we have to say. I think she is right, for all of the convenience I had of voting by mail earlier this week, there is something sacrificial and declaratory about standing at the polling place.

And America's greatness is that in January, whoever is elected, will assume the post of commander-in-chief with dignity and grace and a look to the future. Even in the year 2000, in the middle of great controversy and national division, even anger, all proceded according to the rule of law. Over the past several months, we have shared many opinions on our blogs. I feel like I have grown and learned much this year through the associations of intelligent, spiritual women. How can our nation be anything but blessed when such women are the next generation of mothers? Let us stand together on Tuesday, at least united in a desire to help shape a world in which our children can reach their potential. Vote. Please vote.