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Tuesday, April 30, 2013

College Awaits...



Packing Day has arrived. 

As excited as I am to see what paths will open up for Kyler, it is such a bitter sweet day because I am going to miss this kid immensely. Even though he is such a quiet guy, he keeps me in stitches with his humor and his ability to repeat the lines to any movie he has ever seen since he was 3 years old. His smile has the ability to make everyone cheer up just by seeing it sneak across his face. It is contagious. He is kind and loyal and gorgeous. I mean have you seen him? The girls had better beware!

He is going to be attending Dixie State University. He will be in an area that he feels comfortable in. He has a few friends in St. George that are not on a mission and will soon be having a few return home. Tyler (our nephew,) is going to be returning to Dixie in the fall and they are going to room together. Not only will he be getting a great education and following in his brother's footsteps as a Rebel (or Patriot [now]) but he is in Utah and that makes him happy. 

I want Kyler to be happy. The last four years have been a struggle for him in many ways and this is a good step for him. He is in charge of his own life but has a few "home" plates he can go to if he needs a little bit of familiarity like the Ritchie's, the Griffin's or the Hunt's house.
Devin and Aliza are moving to Las Vegas, Nevada after they get married which is far enough away but close enough when Kyler needs his brother so that's an option also.  

But for the next few months I don't have to say goodbye, so I will enjoy him as long as I can. If your in St. George or Santa Clara you are some lucky ducky people to be able to hang around this kid because he is awesome!

Love ya Ky!




Pictures from L to R:
Kyler's stuff. I don't know where he is going to put all his stuff in his apartment;  Kenna and I pretending to be happy to get his room and get him out of the house and yet, Kenna knows she is now going to be the only one home and is sad about that. She definitely will miss Kyler;  Unearthing his clothes from his dresser, the ones he hardly ever wore but thinks he needs. 

Sunday, April 07, 2013

Bamba's Kitchen


(I know my folks have seen this poem, but this is for my dear sisters and Field cousins).


Perched upon the sticky red vinyl seat
elbows propped upon a steel topped table in my Bamba's eat-in kitchen
anticipating fun.

My white-cotton-candy haired german Grandma
spent hours teaching me to make hit your tongue-dissolve to deliciousness-Butter Cookies.

Butter, eggs, water, flour, sugar, baking soda, tsp vanilla
her simple ingredients, mixed with conversation
a priceless recipe.

Her talcum powder floats through the air
blending with sugar and rose water
pressed upon her neck each morning

Pressing dough into stars, canes, bells
talking, laughing
happy as could be

Lightly a hum flows from Bamba's lips
building into a song.
dusky soprano flies through the air

love lingers in the air
baking deeply into my skin
like sprinkles on cookies

BUZZZZ-
the kitchen timer hastens me to turn it off
so as not to interrupt the magic

In an instant a hesitant alto pops out of my mouth,
My head says no, my spirit cries go—
"there is beauty all around when there's love at home..."

While kneading dough
my grandma was kneading me
molding a different kind of recipe

Friday, April 05, 2013

Dear 16 year old self


     What would I say to you, my 16 year old self- if I could send you a letter to the past?  I would first tell you that you do not need to fit in to the super popular crowd so quit trying. Don't fight the urge to go out for that part in the school play just because in your drama class production for some other classes you embarrass yourself in front of John Esplin; he doesn't even notice.
    
    Try out for Madrigals, not just Acapella choir; then you can sing to heart's delight with Julie Reavely. You can be loud and proud and not look like a fool and be happier than you were, I promise.
    
     Take those art classes you so desperately want to in High school because you loved them your first two years of Jr. High. Don't be afraid you will be the geek girl of the bunch.  BE THE GEEK GIRL. You are that smart!
   
     I would also tell you to keep reading and writing. Your love of reading draws you into a place of happiness, deep understanding of words and how they can help or hurt someone and the beauty of your writing can express those alphabetic links to touch others.

      Love your family and don't be afraid to express yourself to your mom. She has your back, your front and your sides covered but even more than that she will protect your heart when the handsomest boys in the neighborhood or school don't pay attention to you unless its convenient for them. She will be there for you when you are so confused on who you really want to be and can help you figure it out. She loves you. She wants to listen. She is wise! Open your mouth and just pour out your heart. You won't regret it.
     
     Those songs, you pick out to be your theme songs for each High School year (Man in Motion- the St. Elmo's Fire Soundtrack, and  I'm Free from the Footloose Soundtrack ). Really listen to the words. They will guide you along and lift you up.

      Even though it seems like no one appreciates you, the people who matter the most- your family and those friends that you don't connect with until the end of HS are the ones that love you for who you are. (Don't worry, you meet a super hot, super successful man that you love and will marry [he looks like Kevin Bacon  and a blond Prince Eric. I swear, he does]). You and he raise just-as-adorable-as-you kids. Just don't forget to appreciate every single second with them...)

     Yes, you go through an awkward stage, but, in the end you are beautiful and dynamic you just don't know it yet.
    
     But, most of all, I would tell you that you are beautiful no matter what anyone else says. You don't need to be tinier than you already are. Seriously, you are SKINNY girl, embrace it!
You don't need super blond hair (Sun-In is not your best friend), or even super straight teeth to fit in. Wear sunscreen and sunglasses (because you looked fabulous darling in those shades!)

     Just be happy to be you.





(this doesn't include anything spiritual related- that is for another day...)


                                       

Fun in the Sun and Melanoma



Dang, I wish we had a video like this in the 80's. I can't tell you how many times as a child or teen I had a sunburn. We literally lived on the beach until I was 8 then every summer after. Numerous photos show 3 little girls or teens with beet red faces and arms. We were George Harrison in the spring with our coconut-oiled-SPF-nothing bodies, sun reflectors and sun-in hair products. Just to have that awesome bronzed glow and blond streaked hair. You laid out. That's just what you did. It became your social status- who had the deepest bronze; that was the person who was envied in HS.

My dad always smelled like Coppertone and living in a condo on the beach that is still his cologne, but for us kids- we never had repeated sunscreen lathering after getting out of the water or playing on the shore. Eat, play, read, 12 hours a day everyday makes for fun memories but will it bite us later?

Interestingly, that Copperton-ed daddy is the one who developed melanoma on his foot. Now, he reminds us all to sunscreen and repeat.

Our family skin is programmed for moles. Most have had one removed or will have this year. So sunscreen and tee shirts are important for skin protection. I have a 16 year old. Mckenna is the beach lover of the family and she tries to darken up but she is also our palest and biggest moled baby and so we constantly tell her to chill on the laying out, cover up and slick up with the sunscreen.

Thank heavens my Dad's melanoma was caught early and sat on a small body part. All this for the past love of the sun.

Sometimes I wonder now if it was all with it.
For now, I have to say "Heck Yes". I love the sun and the family fun memories!


(This is a spin off of a discussion forum answer for my health class.)