Being Up Close and Personal with a Rock!

I know my title sounds strange, but so was my experience with "the rock!"
It was Thursday evening, and I was hurrying to Horizon Elementary to watch Katie's dance group. When I arrived, there was absolutely no parking. It was crazy! If I owned an open lot over there, I would have opened it up for parking. I'm sure there were plenty of us that would have paid $5.00 to park somewhere near the school.

However, after trying every parking trick I knew, I ended up parking at the bottom of a hill. The hill itself was no problem, but time was. It was 6:10PM and I knew she was performing at 6:20PM, so I walked as fast as my knee hardware could. I reached the edge of the school property, and decided to cut across on the dirt, instead of following the sidewalk. (I should have listened to the words of my dad and my husband...stay on the path!) But, no, I knew I could make it in time if I shaved a couple of minutes off...so camera and purse in hand I took off across the dirt.

That's when I had my encounter of the most "embarrassing" kind. To this day, I am not quite sure what happened, but I do remember my body sailing through the air in slow motion. Remember that science law that says, "A body in motion tends to stay in motion?" Well, THEY WERE STINKING RIGHT!
I had so much momentum going, that I couldn't even begin to stop myself. The next thing I knew, I felt my head hit a rock the size of China, (ok...it was the size of a plate), nevertheless, my head and neck bounced off that thing like a trampoline. Then...nothing.

The next thing I knew, I had this sweet young couple standing over me and asking if I was ok. I was covered with dirt, had smashed my sunglasses, and was throbbing in pain and dizzy...but other than that...I was great! I tried to stand up, which was not a good plan. I now understand how a drunk person feels. I could not stand up straight, or keep my legs from buckling. The kind young man took hold of me, pulled my 600 pounds of flesh off the ground, and sat me on the curb.

Tears, along with my mascara and dirt were falling off my face. Who needs a Halloween costume! The tears were as much from embaraasment, as injury. Several people from the ward walked by, and asked if I wanted a ride home...but I assurred everyone I could drive myself home. This sweet woman and her husband then proceeded to wipe my arms and face off with their baby wipes. That act of kindness, made me cry all the more. I suppose that is why they used "baby" wipes:)

After several minutes of humiliation, I convinced my good samaritans that I was ok. But the husband insisted on holding my hand and helping me down to my car. They made me turn on the air, and take some water to drink. Then, bless their hearts, they followed me home.

Now I suppose there should be a moral to this story, so here it is. Stay on the path! When we venture off the safety of the path, we are in danger of getting lost, or getting hurt. I couldn't help but think of the conference talk I am giving in Relief Society tomorrow. The lesson is on Elder Russell M. Nelson's talk, "Covenants." If we stay on the path ( the Lord's path), we have been promised great blessings. If we stray off the path, or to the edge of the path, we allow Satan to try and tempt us.

I'm not blamming anyone but myself, and my shoes for my fall; but I can't help but wonder if I wouldn't have fallen if I had stayed on the sidewalk. Fortuneately, I was not seriously hurt. I have a knot on the head, 2 terribly bruised knees, a sprain left hand,an appreciation for the kindness of strangers, and a stomped on ego! Maybe I'll go back to the scene of the crime, and bring that rock home to remind me to stay on the path. I hope all of you are on it with me:)

Don'r Mess With My Stuff!

When I came down the stairs this morning, and turned the corner to the kitchen; I could immediately see something had changed. Someone, who will remain nameless (ok, it was Larry), decided to rearrange things in my computer/solarium/tutoring/scrapbooking room. I WAS TICKED! Not just a little mad, but ready to tear someone's (Larry's) head off. How dare he mess with my stuff!

Would I ever go down to his Barn and rearrange things? No...because I would throw most of it away. Do I rearrange his pigeon lofts, messy office, or heaven forbid... tackle the stack around his chair? The answer is a big fat NO! So is it too much to ask for him to not mess with my stuff?

Ok, I'm going to answer my own questions because I know I'll get the right answers:) First of all, let's take a step or two back in time to Saturday.
For months I have endured his marathon training. I have listened to his glory stories, attended his races, put up signs on Friday, and stood for over 4 hours waiting for him to trot by. And what did he do when he saw me...nothing! No kiss, no hug, no thank you dear for being such a wonderful wife! Oh no, he just jogged on by and waved like he was at a picnic. I wanted to run out, grab his shorts, and pull them over his head.

Then, I go out Monday and buy a frame for him to frame his marthon poster, and hang in his office. Which, by the way, has only a tool belt girl hanging in there.I specifically said, "This is to hang in your office." I get up the next morning, and he has hung it up above the sewing machine! Is this so I can be reminded of it more often?

So, when I discovered his decorating this morning, I could have screamed. I would have kicked something, but I know I would have injured myself for nothing. So back to my questions and answers. I would never rearrange his places, although I am now tempted beyond belief. What would he do if I rearranged his spaces? Probably nothing. He wouldn't notice. But I noticed his little Oprah project, and I am not a happy person.

Long ago, 35 years ago, he should have started to realize a thing about me which is..."DON'T MESS WITH MY STUFF!" Both he, and my boys have had trouble remembering this.

One day, about 15 years ago, I came home and found two of my boys playing with and wearing my sexy linguire. I can't spell it, but you know what I mean. I was so mad at them. Not so much because they were having a great time with it, but because they snooped and got it out of the top of my closet! I decided then and there , that mother's have no privacy. I took all my sexy stuff and threw it all in the garbage can. I'm sure the garbage men had a hayday if they looked in the can. I never again have bought anything even remotely sexy. The thing that was so irritating, is that I had put that stuff in old shoe boxes labeled ,"Old temple clothes." But did that stop them from looking...oh no!

I have hid chocolate, money, books, Christmas, and a variety of other things...and they always find it. Larry knows better than to toss anything of mine, but apparently that message has not worked its way to his frontal lobe yet.

I do not want anyone rearranging my home. It is my castle. I do all the work and upkeep in here. Things are where they are for a reason. Now I cannot get to my scrapbooking stuff, it looks ugly from the living room, and there is a big space with nothing to do with it.

I was hoping blogging would get this out of my system, but it hasn't worked. Maybe I'll go down and rearrange a few tools, benches, or junk in his domain! (Really, I won't because it would be too much work!) So if you see me hanging out my windows, shouting at the sky, you'll know that things have not gotten back to normal around here!