Not So Much a Haircut As a Complete Reinvention

It occurred to me, somewhat belatedly, that the whole "Going Goth" post title might have had a few of you wondering if I had dyed my hair black rather than cutting it all off.

I did not.

I'm a decade and a half too late for that kind of drama. Still, I don't think the change could have been much more dramatic. I will mostly let the pictures speak for themselves.

Do I look nervous? No? Well then I'm totally faking it. This was a rather major decision, though in the scheme of things it is rather shallow I suppose.

One last moment to change my mind . . . .

Past the point of no return. I think I look a little shell-shocked. Eleven inches.

While I was at it, I decided to get highlights too. It isn't just that Goldilocks (my hairdresser) gives a fantastic cut and styles my hair better than anyone I've ever had, she is also the World's Best Colorist. Really, I think she is.

End result. Wow. I'm still in a bit of shock in this picture. But now I'm about three weeks out and I love it. Less time, less hassle, less shampoo . . . . less HAIR. Unfortunately it is going to mean more haircuts. I still haven't worked out what I'm going to do yet.

I know! I'll write a novel that everyone wants to read, become independently wealthy and fly to Utah every eight weeks so that Goldilocks can take care of me. Isn't she adorable? She is a friend of my sister's from high school, and a perfect beautician. Not only is she incredibly skilled, but she is so genuinely friendly and interested that I found myself talking almost exclusively about me for and hour and half! It was only later that my sister told me that Goldilocks doesn't just run marathons (which I knew, and she briefly talked about) , but that she WON the female division in a 100 miler last year!!! Anyway, if you are looking for a fantastic haircut from a truly wonderful person and you happen to live near my parents, give me a call and I will pass on Goldilocks' real name and number.

Going Goth

For reasons too complex (read: boring) to explain, I had four different book groups to attend on the calendar in a three week stretch. Don't worry, I fully recognize that such behavior is completely crazy. Still, I have a rather inflated sense of my own importance at these types of activities, and didn't feel like there was any one I could reasonably put off/postpone/cancel. Besides, the scheduling of the groups was entirely accidental--one moved up, one pushed back, one just meeting temporarily.

How could I say no?

We are talking about discussing books, after all. And not just any books--three of the four were pretty darn good. The fourth, well, let's just say that it was fine, but I didn't feel like it was really worthy of making it on to a book group list along side titles like "Cry, the Beloved Country."

One of the groups was just a one-time thing. Desmama and I met years ago in Houston through a mutual friend at a book group. In a stroke of best luck, she and I ended up moving to Utah at the same time. We started a book group there, but everyone in the charter group, except Desmama, has since moved. Desmama expanded the group to others and kept it going. She invited me to join them for their discussion of "Jane Eyre" in July.

I drooled at the suggestion of the opportunity, and looked forward to it as a major highlight of my trip. I was not disappointed.

Our discussion was lively and interesting. I reviewed Jane Eyre a couple of years ago here, so I won't go into that, but we did have a discussion of Gothic literature elements, which I really loved. Usually when I think of Gothic literature, I think of vampires, but the truth is, the genre is much broader than that. Modern fantasy literature owes a lot to the Gothic tradition as well.

As I researched a bit about Gothic literature elements, I was surprised to peruse the list of elements and realize that I've actually been reading quite a lot of Gothic literature over the last few months--quite by accident. I also recently finished "Northanger Abbey," a spoof on the whole genre which was growing in alarming popularity during Austen's early career. The Gothic elements in Harry Potter abound. Actually, the place that many of the elements are surprisingly absent is in the Twilight books. (One of the reasons they can be considered unique--Meyer guts a lot of the traditional elements from the vampire genre.)

The women at Desmama's book group were so intelligent and friendly. It was an absolute pleasure to meet them, and share a girls' night out with them. The wonderful woman who hosted has five sons and a husband out of town with the Boy Scouts all week. I was so impressed with the cheerful way she opened her home to us, despite having had a very long and difficult day.

Perhaps the strangest part was meeting people, and then having Desmama introduce me by my blognym as well. There were a few who had a dawning appear on their face when she said "Scienceteachermommy." That was very weird, and I had to think again about that strange blurring between public and private life. That is a post I still think I will write one day, if I come to any conclusions.

If being known by my blognym was the oddest, however, it was also the best. Em, whom I've never met before (and won't link here, she's private), gave me the biggest hug, greeting my like a long, lost sister instead of a total stranger. She is prettier in person than even her gorgeous pictures and she is even more beautiful on the inside.

All around, it is probably the nicest girls' night out I've had in a very long time. Thanks ladies!

These Should Not Be Forgotten Years

When I was growing up, boating was a favorite summertime activity. I should maybe say the ONLY summertime activity. I turned 12 the spring that my dad bought his first speedboat. From that time on, nearly every family vacation was a boating vacation of some time. Besides that, we took the boat out almost weekly, particularly after my older brother became so adept at driving and hauling it.

The boat had a radio and tape deck. When we weren't able to get reception for our favorite alternative station, we listened to Midnight Oil--mostly Diesel and Dust and Blue Sky Mining. When I hear those songs, even now, it reminds me so much of that carefree time. The post title is a Midnight Oil song from the early 90's, and makes a case for being on a short list of my favorite songs ever.

When my siblings began moving back to Utah a couple of years ago, and despite being busy with their own families and lives, my dad upgraded to a newer model boat. In some ways, he has regretted it ever since. Boating trips are few and far between. We made an effort to go while I was staying out there, and it was fairly large production.

My older brother was unable to come, but the other three kids plus two spouses and seven children under the age of nine also. At one point, my dad had 5 little grandsons in the boat with him, who all wanted a pull on the "big tube," even though two of them were only three years old. They all got a turn to ride in the prow, bounce around in the tube at 20 mph, and help grandpa drive.

I've seldom seen my dad so happy. He pretended to be grumping about "herding cats," when it came to those little fellows, but he was really in his element.

I slalomed skiied for the first time in two years, and I got up on my first try. My younger sister did the same.

The best part of the evening? Our hilarious punk of a younger brother, not yet 30, took THREE tries before he got out of the water though back in the day he was always better than we were. As he climbed back in the boat, knowing he had to face my younger sister, I wonder if he considered just swimming for shore? Her first words to him were, "STM and I have had six babies between us and WE got up on the first try."

Oh, yeah, good times.

Consecration

In the LDS Church, there are many different positions within our priesthood. Like other religions, these positions, or offices, come with certain responsibilities. One of these positions, usually given to some venerated and intensely spiritual older man is the office of "Patriarch." A Patriarch's role is to give special blessings to members of our church. This blessing, called a patriarchal blessing, is nearly always given only once during your life and can serve as a road map. Different than fortune telling--which is usually done for profit and/or entertainment--LDS people believe that these blessings are sacred to the hearer and contain direct, divine direction passed through the giver. A Patriarch is therefore a conduit to Heaven. No small thing. As another contrast to fortune telling which fortells a nebulous, general outcome based on "fate, " the patriarchal blessing is often very specific, with promised blessings based on the hearer's obedience to God's commandments.

In the Old Testament, however, the term "patriarch" is more frequently used. It was applied to all the prophets as well as a title of respect for certain Israelite rulers. It was both a specific office, with a capital "P" and a title of great honor, with a lower case "p." It comes from a Greek term meaning "father-ruler," but in the Hebrew, the word translates to simply, "father."

The archetype of the father-ruler gets a bad rap in our post-feminist era. To many, a family (and by extension, a church) following a pattern of patriarchal order automatically is discriminatory and unfair to women. This topic is debated outside the LDS Church, and HOTLY debated inside the Church; if you are interested you can probably find several web pages on the topic.

This is not one of them.

I only bring up the term "patriarch" with its formal, informal, ancient and more modern usage to try to give some context and definition. It is true that a father as a ruler will mean many different things to different people, probably depending on your own experiences with male authority figures. Americans tend to think of "rulers" as mean, despotic, selfish and spoiled because we are so trained to dismiss monarchy as a terrible system of governance. However, a ruler who is generous, kind, diligent and equality-minded might do an enormous amount of good. (As grateful as I am for democracy, our current state of bipartisan, stalemated, NON-governance has me sometimes wishing for a benevolent king who could make everyone play nicely just by force of his personality.)

In other words, my perception of a true patriarch is extremely positive. And now we'll get to the point. Really.

My own father taught me much about generosity and hard work. As I grow older, I appreciate more and more all the time the lessons he taught by example. He is the first to admit that he isn't the most spiritual guy on the block, but he never shirked a responsibility. My dad, in many ways, has become a friend to me.

In the last post I mentioned the love I have for my husband's family. The first person I met in his family was his dad. He was in our city on business when Plantboy and I had been together a few months. He offered to take us to dinner, and being poor college students we weren't stupid. Father-in-law is a very discerning person; maybe he knew before Plantboy and I did that we were meant to be together, but whether he did or not, his kindness to me that night, and his desire to know me better were so genuine that I felt at ease despite his wise years and great intelligence.

As I've come to know Father-in-law over the years, I can genuinely say that more than any other man I've ever known personally, he exemplifies all of those best traits of a true patriarch. It is true that he has led his family absolutely by example, but he doesn't overlook opportunities to teach the gospel directly either. This was a new experience for me.

I mentioned in the last post, that one evening Father-in-law made a request for us to put kids to bed early, so that he might hold a meeting, of sorts, with just the grown-ups. He did this at each of the last two reunions as well. As we gathered, he asked one of his sons to pray (or was it a son-in-law? It all seems to be one with him). He then expressed that he had spent some time fasting and praying about what to share with us, and then how to present it. I remembered noticing him earlier that evening, being preoccupied, obviously deep in thought.

He pulled out some old notes he had made years and years before on a flight he thought he was supposed to be sleeping on instead. These notes were the beginnings of inspiration he made to give a talk about consecration.

Consecration isn't a word we hear much anymore, not unlike the word patriarch. It is a word loaded with of meaning. It comes from the same Latin root as the word "sacred" and an LDS understanding of this word means to dedicate something for a sacred purpose. For example, money given to feed the poor is consecrated. Time spent helping others might be considered the same, when the time is given un-grudgingly. In fact, in LDS circles, we are encouraged to consecrate everything.

Everything.

Time. Talent. Energy. Financial means. Anything that might help to build up God's kingdom on earth.

Anything with which we've been blessed.

As Father-in-law spoke, he talked much about marriage and the need to put the good of our spouse and family first. The group he spoke to knows a little bit about the topic. We were sitting in a room of 11 couples spanning 3 generations and over 150 years of marriage. He encouraged us all, as individuals, but more especially as couples, to take stock of our lives and evaluate how we were doing when it came to consecration.

It was late and I was tired. My mind drifted to surface things--whether or not I followed through on church responsibilities, our financial donations to our church each month and whether or not I could term them generous, how much time we spent devoted to church-stuff each week.

Yet, as with all good teaching, his words stayed with me throughout the weekend and I began to realize a few things. Each move we have ever made is because we felt "impressed" to do so. Our two most major moves, in fact, were in response to a powerful pull that the Church in some way needed us to be where we were. These locations took us far from extended family at a time when it would have been personally beneficial to be close to them. Hardly an hour goes by that I don't do something, or think something, or say something that I do in direct response to the fact that I am an LDS person. I wouldn't even know who to be without my religion. Some of you might see that as frightening or repressive; I see it as the greatest blessing of my life.

I thought of my day to day life and the way I raise and teach my kids. And I stopped dead in my tracks.

What is my greatest blessing? Rephrase: WHO are my greatest blessings?

And I got it. I haven't just consecrated MY life to the Lord. I'm consecrating theirs. Oh, I may not be like Samuel's mother who literally went and donated him to the temple when he was a baby to keep her covenant with God, but each time I take them to church, pray with them, teach them a simple gospel principle, sing the strains of "I Am a Child of God" until even my three year old doesn't miss a word, I am dedicating their lives to a holy, higher purpose.

I don't know what that purpose will be. That is between them and God, and no doubt they will have to work out the details of their own lives with Him as they grow and make choices, but their future choices won't change the one I am making now. I am trying to give all that I have been blessed with to the Lord, and I hope to do it better each day than the previous day.

As I sat with my husband's family, surrounded by such dedication to an ideal, I understood something else: each day, as parents, we strive to do our very best. Hoping, almost against hope, that someday it will all be worth it. I think this is the essence of faith, Paul's elusive "evidence of things not seen." My in-laws spent a lifetime serving and working and putting family and church ahead of their own desires. Each family home evening, scripture study, early morning seminary run and paid for mission was a leap of faith. And yet, there we all were, sitting at the feet of our patriarch, the evidence of all those acts of faith over the years. A generation consecrated to the Lord.

Now it is our turn.

Even Better Than TV Reality

My goal is to blog every day this week, breaking our recent trip into different segments. Ideally, there would be pictures in each of these posts, but as my camera spent the trip happily nestled in its charger 800 miles away from us, pictures are a bit problematic.

Actually, our vacation was just a trip "home." Meaning "the place where I grew up." I have to catch myself referring to Utah as "home," however. It is a term that confuses my kids a bit, and I don't know if they will ever count Utah as one of their homes. However, this particular trip is the first time I felt like we actually had a vacation, instead of just visiting grandparents. (Also lovely and important, but when you live away from your roots you sort of of feel like you travel a lot without ever getting to go on vacation.) As my kids get older, this type of travel gets easier and easier. They were very well behaved on long car rides for the most part. And with no nappers in the bunch, it was easy to make plans that lasted all day long.

The reason for planning our adventures when we did is that Plantboy's family held a family reunion over the weekend of the 4th of July. We stayed in Park City in a lodge large enough to hold just about everybody. This is no small feat. Plantboy is the sixth of nine children. ALL of them came to the reunion with spouses and kids. All told I believe there are 53 people.

Plantboy's sister, ArkansaSis, was in charge this year. I think it was the best one we've ever had. Her organization is even more impressive considering that her family was living in Guatemala until the late spring of this year, she organized the rest from halfway across the country, and announced to the family during the reunion that she is pregnant with baby #5! Even if it had been mediocre I would have been totally impressed.

ArkansaSis built the reunion loosely around television reality shows. The first night we played games, Minute to Win It style. It isn't a reality show I'd ever seen (not really my favorite genre), but the silly, simple and challenging games were a blast. I'm definitely going to use some of these ideas for a future Young Women activity. (Note: Is it Young Womens activity? I hate that. And if it is, should there be an apostrophe??? Help, grammar people.)

The second day, we went to the summer resort up at Snowbird. Though we didn't do any formal family games, it was called our "Survivor" day. Jedi Knight and Plantboy did a ropes course. Jedi didn't even break a sweat despite being harnessed 20 feet off the ground, so proud of himself that he was exactly tall enough for the height requirement. The little ones did a bounce house. We all did the Alpine Slide a couple of times as well as taking the tram, a hike, and a couple of different ski lifts for some fabulous views. I also rock climbed and did the zip-line. The boys bungee-trampolined. All in all, it was a wonderful day. I think the best result of our survivor day is that I now am looking forward to our Disneyland trip later this year. (My mother's idea.) I had been kind of dreading it, but my kids were surprisingly patient and adventurous as we waited in lines and presented them with new things to do.

Saturday night, we met around an outside fire pit for American Idol and s'mores. It turned out that we didn't do karaoke, but we did sing our family song(s). Each reunion, we have to make up our own family verse based on the tune to "Army of Helaman." There is a family chorus we all sing together. People use this song as a time to make announcements (how we found out about AkansaSis's baby), recap the previous year's events, but mostly it is a chance to try and be the funniest. With nine verses, it takes us a while to get through, but it is always great. After we dragged the exhausted kids to bed, Plantboy's dad did a grown-ups only fireside that was completely awesome, but I will give more on that in another post.

Sunday, a huge group of us invaded the Jeremy Ranch ward. It was very cool to be at church with so many family members. After church, my in-laws were able to get a single picture with every member of their family in it. Even their daughter-in-law, with her week-old baby girl, made it up for a couple of hours so that she could be there too. There is only one kid who was so grumpy that he wouldn't look at the camera; everyone else, if not smiling, is at least looking. Do you want to take bets on who feared the camera would steal his soul? One of mine? Getting warmer! It was the Youngling. He has his arms crossed and head down. You can see the top of his beautiful curly blond head. What a little punk.

Sunday night we were divided into non-immediate-family teams to play Amazing Race style games. Except for that Vienna sausage episode that nearly made me hurl my guts out, and the fact that our team got the bad luck of running up and down a huge hill a couple of times (our clues were in the WORST possible order), it was extremely cool. ArkansaSis had really come up with some clever games and the terminology in the games was very Amazing-Race-like. After games, we bundled up (it was COLD in Utah on July 4th!!) and headed into Park City for fireworks. We tried to torch all the kids with sparklers, but they all lived to eat 14 pounds of Red Vines and stay up WAY too late.

Monday morning we wrapped up with a "Biggest Loser" fun run. My kids were a bit out of it by then, so we were rather dud-like and stayed back, doing our cleaning assignment early so that we could get Plantboy to his flight. (He was so busy at work that he was unable to stay on vacation with us the whole time.) Plantboy ran and proudly won in what he called his "age division." Of course, most of the brothers made the same claim because each brother narrowly defined the categories until they were the only person IN the category. Plantboy clarified--he beat all the brothers and that was all he cared about. The prize? Bragging rights for two years. The best part about the fun run is that each person was given a piece of stiff fabric, a pin and a sharpie to give themselves a number. Some of the numbers were hilarious. There were various Greek symbols and Roman numerals. There were a couple of equations. Plantboy's number was 8675309. Mine was "threeve." (If anybody gets that joke, I'll love you forever.)

The reason Plantboy's family is so wonderful, however, has less to do with the games and activities, and a lot more to do with the in-between stuff. You know in the reality shows, how they do all the stupid interviews in between the exciting bit? People back-stab one another and reveal all manner of unpleasant things about themselves by the way they act and talk. But in Plantboy's family, people genuinely get along with one another. Of course it was easy to walk in on a conversation in which you disagreed with the direction of the discussion, but you were always welcome to contribute.

The first night I met Plantboy's family, there were about half as many as there are now. We drove from Utah to Denver to meet them over Christmas Break. I studied the whole way there so that I would remember everybody's name. What I found at the end of a long drive and a big snow storm was love and acceptance I had known in very few places. They loved Plantboy, and that love extended without reservation, and immediately, to me. Things haven't changed though eleven and a half years have passed since that night I was terrified of forgetting somebody's name. I'm so grateful not only to have been born into a wonderful family, but to have married into one. It is nice for a nomad to have a soft place to land.

Teaser

Vacation has been . . . . well . . . . wonderful.

The digital camera is the only thing we forgot, so pictures will be a bit thin, but I will definitely post a longer synopsis when we get back home. In the meantime, we are just too busy anticipating all the fun still to come for me to take more than this moment to dwell on the memories.

Book group tonight. I can hardly wait.

As if waterskiing, swimming, chick flicks, hiking and daily family gatherings aren't enough, my editorial from the last post was actually published in my local paper yesterday. Oh, it has been a very wonderful week so far.