Music to My Ears or Unearthing the Crashed Code

13563 is the code to the radio. Please, everyone write that number down then put it in a safe place. Yes, thanks to Jed’s tinkering ability to pull the car radio and get the number off of the back, we were able to uncrash the crashed code. This saved us $100 from having the dealer do the same thing.

After getting the car out of yet another repair (right front axle), I punched in the code and it was music to my ears to have the radio instantly come to life. It's been eight months since the car battery was disconnected and we lost radio use. Searching the car, manuals, paperwork and all possible sources we came up empty looking for the code to jump start it. I was tired of singing, meditating, silence and the likes which forced me to drastic measures by calling the dealership & asking all bright males for help. Jed came to our rescue as he has in many technical situations this year. We love you Jed, our personal i t man.

What Were You Doing Ten Years Ago?

Having been invited to join Breann and her friend Jaime, her mom & sister to a graduation gift spent in Germany, how could I refuse? Ignoring that Allan wasn’t hip on the idea and I had a bad feeling about the trip, I said yes. From the get go my experience was doomed. Saturday afternoon May 21st, 1998, we arrived in Munich with everyone’s luggage in tow, except mine, that is. Later that evening after all the stores had closed my monthly cycle came, early of course. With all my clothes and protection lost somewhere and all stores closed for Sunday you can imagine how frustrated I felt. My roommates came to the rescue fortunately, which helped until the stores opened again.

Monday I was a sight for sore eyes wearing bright red plaid pajama bottoms and purple top shopping for clothes to wear. $300 marks later I emerged looking somewhat German with two pair of pants and blouses.

Strausberg, home of The Sound of Music and Mozart one of our stops, proved to be a challenge for me as well. Needing a bathroom visit at the worst times, I was nearly left by our bus tour group. The guide gave me a stern warning upon boarding the bus and all the tourists applauded my arrival.

My black jacket saved me more than once during our long sightseeing days. Few public bathrooms exist outside of the US. They were few and far between, when I needed a toilet, right now. That is when my black jacket became a wrap around skirt and shield of privacy. Every night my soiled clothes were washed and hung over the bathtub for the next day. Sometimes I wore wet clothing or was thrown an old scrap from Breann.

Money was an issue also. I had some cash, but never took the opportunity to use an ATM machine at home. I had no pin number. This meant going into the bank to get cash. I was able to purchase goods with a credit card and exchange at hotels as well. Things went south when we stayed at ‘Helga, the Horribles’ home and I needed cash to pay the bill. Intending to go to the bank the last day of our stay, I was informed it was a holiday and they were all closed. Taking her bicycle and the directions given, I navigated the complicated route to the train station where I could get the money. My identification was questioned at the exchange booth. I said a little prayer, hoping they would approve my request. With a quick answer to my plea, the money was given and the bill paid.

Neuschwanstein (the Disney castle look alike), the Eagle’s Nest (Hitler’s hideout),
Dauchau (concentration camp museum), Munich World Olympic Park and Omeromergau (Christ’s passion play) were just a few of the sites we enjoyed problem free. Driving down a four lane one-way street the wrong direction, freezing from the cold with no jacket to put over my shoulders, getting lost finding our way, unable to read the signs and leaving a tell tale red spot on almost every bed were my specific the challenges.

Although every picture we took shows me frowning from the problems I had, it really was a wonderful, memorable experience never to be forgotten. My luggage was delivered three weeks later at home. The airlines paid for my new clothes, too.

Running of the Elms

Surely you have heard of the ‘Running of the Elms”. An annual event throughout the nation, although not publicized as much as Spain’s Running of the Bulls. It happened here yesterday when the winds reached 30 mph+ with evidence all over in the streets today as if a parade had occurred. Piles of spectator seeds still lying in the gutter, too scared to be chased by the onslaught of bullish vehicles, chose to lie where they landed.

As I was planting and weeding in my front yard, it sounded like a healthy stream of water rushing down my street. Every time I looked all I could see was the round dried out Chinese elm seeds bouncing and racing down the street in an effort to be missed by the anything at its rear. They all wanted to get into the action after being pushed from their breezy home high in our neighbor’s trees. Not as colorful but just as exciting when I spied a pile on the mat by my front step vying to slip into the safety of my entryway, when I opened the door. A few quick ones made it.

Took me back to the spring we planted our front lawn. Breann recently reminded me of her assignment to scatter grass clippings on our newly seeded soil. Shortly thereafter, the ‘Running of the Elms’ made a beeline directly to the same area covering every single spot with their wax paper thin round bodies. When the blades of grass should have appeared weeks later, we were met with baby elms numbering more than the sands of the sea. Our neighbor apologized and we put the seedlings to work shading our new lawn (Breann refused to do it), until we could mow them down. Have you see the ‘Running of the Elms’ in your neighborhood yet?

Giant Popcorn Balls

Eight weeks ago this week, spring officially made its debut. However, the true sign of spring is when the flowering trees are in full bloom, tulips, lilacs and other spring flowers unfold their joyous colors and the jackets we wear get thinner and smaller then disappear.
One of my favorite parts of spring is when our crabapple trees bloom in the back yard. I love to see their baby soft white blossoms with a touch of pink in the center of each flower. Blossoms by the millions overtake the crabby bark branches transforming them into a giant marshmallow popcorn ball creation.
Their beauty becomes even more divine when little angels such as my grandchildren share the spotlight with these magnificent trees.
They are so glorious it takes your breath away. The hot days are moving to the front of the line when these beauties begin to wane. I must take a mental picture of them until they put on their prom dresses again.

In the "ZONE"

(Prednisone, that is) So, I started it: 40 mg on April 26th. Still on 40 mg, what? Three weeks later? It's going okay at this point. I'm keeping track, weekly photos to moniter the progress of the fattening face. It's already a little fuller, but I'm managing my cravings (somewhat) and really exercising so that I don't go crazy and fatten up.
Jed and I have been working in the yard. We had road base brought in and built up an RV pad in the back by the shed. We got a landscape rake and I raked out half the yard. It's a lot of work! I have no memory of helping in our yard other then collecting rocks up at the farm for the retaining wall - oh, and putting grass clippings on the front lawn in the bitter morning before school. Landscaping? No go. I'm convinced that the next yard we get will either be smaller or complete!
I've also been thinking of attempting to put togeter a family recipe book, you know, that includes all the family greats (grandma Crane's green jell-o, grandma Schmidt's English toffee, Mauri's caramel brownies, etc. I think I'll send out a e-mail to you all to gather and collect these, then compile them as best I can. Sound good?

*(So, at one point, I set up a blog, "Blogging Breann" and posted like two things but could never figure out how to add more posts. When I typed this up, I added it to THAT blog instead of this and was a bit confused. (now I know my sign-in info for both. Good thing I finally figured THAT out!)

a mother's day gift

When I asked mom what she wanted for Mother's Day, she said that just writing some memories out would be sufficient. I thought for a long time about what memories to share and decided on one after reading a talk by Kathleen H. Hughes during the 2006 General RS Broadcast. She is speaking about the responsibilities of women in the home. She says,

"Our families need us to speak peace to them, just as the Lord speaks peace to us. Our homes need to be places where our families and friends want to be, where all who enter our homes can draw strength and courage to face the challenges of living in an increasingly wicked world. Our children need to hear us "talk of Christ,...rejoice in Christ, [and] preach of Christ" (2 Nephi 25:26) so that they may know to what source they can look for the peace that "passeth all understanding." (Philippians 4:7)

I think that this is something that mom is very good at. She really tries and always has tried to make a home where the Spirit could reside. She and dad made an effort to have family prayer every night and (in spurts) every morning. We usually grumbled. Every once in a while we'd try for the early morning scripture reading thing. We always grumbled. Family home evenings were an occasional thing, and we most likely complained. Mom and dad prayed every night without fail even though often they probably felt like just going to bed. Sometimes it seemed like mom was always reading the scriptures in the front room. As we got older, dad was in there wearing his glasses and reading too. Growing up we all displayed our fair share of shouting, arguing, and general obnoxiousness. Of course, we fought, scratched, yelled, pinched, etc. You name it; we probably did it. But I always felt that our house was a place where I wanted to be. It always felt like a home. There was love. There was strength. There was laughter and fun. There was joking and teasing. Sometimes there was even peace there. I think I always knew this, but it became especially apparent to me after I moved away to college. My first year away was very difficult, and I came home frequently for various reasons. I remember one particular weekend when I wasn't planning on coming home but did anyway. I just felt like I needed to. I'll never forget the feeling that washed over me the moment I walked in the front door. There's a scripture in 2 Nephi 1:15 that explains it perfectly. I felt "encircled about eternally in the arms of His love." The Spirit simply washed over me. It was just what I needed to strengthen me so I could go out and face the world again. I've thought about this often since it happened over ten years ago; it has made a significant difference in my life.

This experience has affected the person that I am, the mother that I am, and the home that I am trying to create. It has made me more diligent in my prayers. It has made me more diligent in my scripture study. It has made me realize the importance of sharing the scriptures and experience of prayer with my children. I may not be perfect, but, just like our mom did, I am trying to provide for my children a home where there is peace, strength, courage, and the Spirit.

facebook friends

Much to David's dismay, I joined facebook which is basically an online friend collector and way to keep track of people and stay in contact. It is pretty much an online popularity contest. I have 9 friends. David suggested that I see if Jory was on facebook and if he wanted to be my friend. I checked him out this morning. He has 391 friends. Most of them are girls. I asked him this morning if he wanted to be my friend. I hope he'll say yes.