Wednesday, October 28, 2009

A New P-freakin-ost!

Hi y-freakin-'all!

Just thought I'd mention a little thought I've been having - - - - I've been hearing a lot of this around me - "That store is Ri-freakin-diculos!!" "That applesauce was De-freakin-licious"!! - Got to love it right!! I was thinking how fun it would be to talk just like that and only like that - -for example . . . when I answer the phone at work I can say, "He-freakin-llo St-freakin-ate Fa-freakin-rm In-freaking-surance this is M-freakin-ia, how can I he-freakin-lp you?!"

or . . .
just try to find the best words it would work with - - - -



Alama-freakin-gordo, Tehas

Now you try - -let's see what you g-freakin-ot!

Sunday, October 25, 2009

The one thing you should NEVER do with a pita . . .

Burn your place of employment down.  Especially when that place of employment happens to be an insurance agency . . .

Ahh yes, my friends, the pita exacts its revenge.  For those of you who are regular readers of my oh so interesting life tales on this blog, you will know that besides run-on sentences you can find a series of rants.  A few rants back I so happened to talk about the ridiculous uses that pita makers were saying you could do with their product – said pitas must have taken offence, for this story I am about to tell is an offensive strike in a war I never knew I was fighting– until now (or it could just be a tale of my stupidity and awkwardness - you decide).

            I arrived at work early but without morning nutrients.  I had been running late and consequently didn’t have the time for the most needed meal of the day (according to most nutritionist and the CNN health page).  The fridge only contained water, pop, and in the far back right corner . . . my last little pita.  I threw it into the toaster oven (a new contraption to Chard kids) and made my way up front to open things up.  I decided to make a quick call to a Windshield repair place.  Five minutes later, not a care in the world, I was on hold listening to an elevator music type no- words medley of “Hit me Baby One more time” and “Bye, Bye, Bye” when a distant ping brought me back to reality.  A reality that told me I had better get to the break room.  I dropped the phone just as a neighbor was coming in the door and ran to the back.  The pita was black as could be.  I flipped the door down and used my fingernails to scrape it onto the counter – to my surprise it burst into flames!  Not tiny little match flames but a foot or higher flames that were spreading as I stood there in a panic.  Even though on the same counter, as the now fire encompassed pita, was a sink, that wasn’t my first thought.  It went more like this - - - oh crap, ummm paper towel – no that would be stupid – I’m totally getting fired – ahhh – okay not a grease fire so water, right? Yeah water - - - I reached over flipped on the water and started cupping out water with my hands and hitting the pita – smoke went everywhere!  Dennis, the neighbor that had come in was looking for my boss who was (luckily for me) out of town, had followed me back to the break room and was proceeding to tell me that I must have burned something.  He was right about that as I opened the back door praying the smoke alarms would not go off – that would top things off.

            I walked him out to the front as he jokingly asked me if I wanted him to leave the door open - umm yeah thanks.  Still with my heart beating a mile a minute I sat at my desk, only to hear, “Mia . . Mia  . . .Mia” – oh yeah, I forgot I was on the phone . .

Pita – you may have won this battle but the WAR IS ON - - - - -

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

A grief observed . . .

     I had many interesting experiences this past weekend.  One of those happened early Sunday morning and it has left me contemplating.  I drove to my parent's so that we could all enjoy conference together.  I winded my way through the canyon enjoying the rain as it pounded down around me, not really thinking about much.  I felt peace and a sense of renewal.  My mind wandered to planning out what my day would be - we would enjoy breakfast, listen to conference, play with Samuel and Mason - - - and then I was slammed by the thought, "If the rain clears up maybe I can walk the boys over and we can say hi to Norma."  I had forgotten.  
     It has been almost a year since Norma passed away on a clear and crisp October morning.  I haven't been able to talk about her or write about her.  Even now, as I type these words, my eyes fill with tears and emotions seem too close to the surface.  Norma meant many things to those who knew her but I have always felt that we shared something special.  She lived next door for most of my childhood and most everything that we did included her - dinners, holidays, birthdays.  Birthdays were something special.  Every year for as long as I can remember she and I would pick a day that was to be mine.  We went shopping for clothes, saw a movie and went out to eat.  It seemed that she would spare no expense and I loved our time together.  She was loving and kind but could also get after us kids if need be.  Even in those moments of discipline, the perceived harshness came out of the great love that she had for us.
     Time changes things and as I grew older our relationship changed.  Norma got sick.  It was a scary time in her life and more than anything it was sad to watch her lose the independencethat had always been so fiercely hers.  For all the care that she had always shown our family it was now our turn.  I had just graduated high school and was only taking two classes that fall semester.  I hadn't found a job and frankly, felt lost.  I had the time and so I had the opportunity to take Norma to all the places she needed to go.  We went to multiple doctor's appointments every week, grocery shopping and sometimes to lunch if she just wanted to get out of the house.  She told me of her life and the wonderful places she had seen, she comforted me when I would share of my fears or heartaches, we talked about the gospel and she expressed a desire to be close to God again.  Those were cherished times.  I had become an adult in her eyes - more than her niece, we were friends.
     All of these thoughts and many more came rushing to my mind as I realized once again that she was gone.  It's interesting how these moments can overtake us and once again it is fresh and real.  I read A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis many years ago and I remember something that particularly struck me, he said, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."  I agree with that.  Last year it felt so much like fear that I ran from it and in many ways have continued running.  I stopped on Sunday.  I have let myself think about her and the good and the bad that we shared.  I am so grateful for her and the huge role that she played in my life.  Youth brings foolishness and I am ashamed to say that there were times when I would say that I was afraid that because my parents named me after her that my life would parallel hers in the fact that I would go through life without marrying.  What a fool.  I am filled with guilt and sorrow about that thought and attitude for I know that Norma was so much more than just one life experience.  I only now wish to do as much as Norma did for others and hopefully I can live up to the name that I am blessed to share.  I have much work to do if I hope to be as she was.  I have hope that she will forgive me of my foolishness and that we will one day have the chance to be together again.  I love you Norma.