A Very Scary Story

This story was much better when I wrote it 15 years ago. I was hanging out in my parents living room with my sisters and a brother when suddenly the idea came to me. I said, "Hold on a minute. I have to go write a story." In five minutes I returned with this small, horrifying masterpiece. It is not so original now. My idea of combining scary stories together to form one beautiful, little, horror narrative was stolen by Hollywood and made into a major motion picture. Also, you would probably have to be familiar with these particular scary stories that my sisters and I found TERRIBLY frightening as children to be able to enjoy it. With no further ado, here is A Very Scary Story:

One time this friend of my sister's was driving home. It was late and really rainy. Suddenly it seemed like she was being followed. A car was right on her tail. It started honking its horn and flashing its lights. She whipped her head around and they stopped. She didn't know what to do. The flashing and honking continued whenever she was looking forward. When she turned to look back, they stopped. Just then her car phone rang.

"Hello?"
A raspy voice said, "Go check the children."
"What children?" she cried.
*click*
Three times the phone rang and each time the individual on the other end would only say, "Go check the children." And before she could ask, "Who are you? What are you talking about?" they would simply hang up.

Finally she called the operator to ask him to trace the mysterious call.

After a moment, the operator came back on the line and in a nervous hush cried, "It's coming from inside your car. Get out as fast as you can!"

She jammed on the breaks and as she was about to get out she saw a strange sweater that she hadn't noticed before. She grabbed it for evidence and ran for her life. She ran and ran until she got to the police station. When she arrived she was so out of breath that she could not speak.

The sheriff, eying the sweater asked, "Where did you get that? That's my mother's sweater!"

She was finally able to gasp, "Then it was your Mom! You've got to arrest her!"

"But," the sheriff raised his eyebrows, "my mother has been dead for five years."

THE END

Cookies

I have been sick for five days. For nearly four months I was NOT sick. That is a miracle. I am so grateful for it. And hopefully this is just a passing flu or cold. But it always scares me--the same way a good day of depression does. There is a sudden terror that comes to me. It is the Black Dog sniffing around. I pray, "Please go away now. Please go away. I can handle your stink for a few days. But if you pounce on me again right now, I will surely die."

I thought I was getting better. Yesterday I felt pretty well as our little family spoke in Sacrament meeting (thanks to Mint Julep and Boris for coming to listen to us and take care of the little ones after they spoke and while Chancho and I spoke). I then had to finish making two cakes, go to do a "fireside/home evening" type thing with a family I didn't know to talk about Haitian Roots which was much more frightening and stressful than giving a 15 min talk in Sacrament Meeting for some reason. Then I had a fun time partying with Meg and familials. We finally got the kids to bed about 11pm. So...I guess I just over-did it. This morning I could hardly even talk and the fever is back.

So...I don't have anything fun or clever to say. I thought I'd post some photos that are a very happy memory for me. I took these photos in January on a day that we'd had a gargantuan snow storm. I couldn't take String Cheese to school because our roads weren't plowed and Chancho was out-of-town with the Jeep. I called it a snow-day and just forgot about all the other things I tell myself I have to do--like cleaning and laundry and working out and Deedle's dance lessons, etc. etc. I did decide to shovel the driveway, so we all bundled up in snow clothes and the kids played while I heaved snow until my muscles all started to shake. We went inside and drank hot chocolate and read stories. We then made chocolate chip cookies and listened to music and just had such a nice, happy, snow-day time! And the best thing was that I am still SO grateful for the healthy brain I have had for mostly 6 months now. I was at peace and able to enjoy every detail of the blessings of my life that we should always be able to enjoy.

The kids LOVE it when I let them help me bake something. They each have an apron--I made the two for the girls and Loumy has one that Chancho wore when he was a little boy. They each take turns putting in an ingredient and I make sure to let them have plenty of completed cookie dough on big spoons (Salmonella be damned). A wonderful memory that must be preserved.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JINKSY-KAT!

Dearest niece of mine! Happy birthday to you. I have dubsed you Jinksy Kat today. "Jinksy Kat, Jinksy Kat, I love you!" (Meet the Parents). I hope you had a great 15th Birthday. I miss the days of hearing you sing at your Lutheran Preschool, "No you can't keep Jesus LOCKED in a jar, LOCKED in a jar, LOCKED in a jar...so I'll just keep Jesus LOCKED in my heart, LOCKED in my heart..." with your big, old paper cross around your neck. I also miss carrying around such a cute little Jinksy with me around campus when your mother was who-knows-where.

I hope this is a wonderful year for you, sweet girl!

Another Welcome

I welcome you again, to my parlor. It has been remodeled, thanks to Ashley Hunt. It looks much more like how I always pictured my parlor to be. I hope you feel more comfortable here now for our visiting. I know I do.

I wanted to comment on the quote from MLK that I have up there. I think the reverse of his statement is also true. When we are no longer silent about things that matter, our lives begin to come alive. This applies to my life in so many ways. It applies to the reason why I have this parlor and why, I think, so many of my sisters and friends are blogging. When we write about what matters to us, we feel more alive. We see more of who we are. My parents have always emphasized the importance of journaling for many reasons. This is certainly one of them.

I also saw this happen just as I wrote about the family in Haiti. I am always passionate about Haiti but sometimes the fire is just some smoldering embers. After writing that, several things have happened and I feel I have received some real inspiration and direction as to what I need to do.

I do matter. What I say matters. As I refuse to be silent on them and even just express myself on my jib (even if I'm the only one to read it), I am beginning to live more. It's a very nice feeling.

Thanks for coming by.

Hope

I was thinking a lot of thoughts and was wondering if it was really appropriate to put them on my jib. Then I got a Napoleon (Dynamite) complex and said, "I'll put whatever I want on my jib! Gosh!" So, you just never know what to expect from me.

For those of you who know me, you know that my love goes like this, in this order: 1. God 2. Family 3. Haiti

I co-founded and run a small, charitable organization to help educate kids in Haiti called Haitian Roots (so much for anonymity). This weekend I received an e-mail from a lady from Michigan who sponsors two of our children (well, she introduced her congregation to us and they do it together). She wrote:

"I am sending back to you, as an attachment, this year and last years' pictures of our sponsored children. Last years' are on the top and this years' are on the bottom. Please look at them carefully. Our congregation is behind these children 100% so it is not a surprise that many expressed concern. My concern is extreme. Knowing how tenuous any child's situation is a Haiti, and then seeing the dramatic physical decline of these two children evident from the photos, I can tell that something is amiss.

We are committed to these children and we hope you can help us to get some questions answered. Would you please ask your contact in Haiti to visit them, talk with their teachers and check the situation at home. Do they need to see a doctor? ( a good start I think). Has there been a change for the worse economically?

Please help us to find out how to help them."

Isson (our co-founder) responded a few days later:

"As I promised to report on the little ones this week end( Mackenson and Christella), I had chance to talk to my sister Huguette, who is one of our coordinators in Haiti, I hope I can find words to describe their situation the same way she put it this morning.

Mackenson and Christella come from a family of seven children. Their dad is not working neither their mom. The parents don't have any skills whatsoever to fight with the cost of living situation that is developing right now in Haiti. Last event that worsen their situation was the last flood where they lost their little house. According to what Huguette told me, they are living in a ravine (a small narrow steep-sided valley that is larger than a gully and smaller than a canyon and that is usually worn by running water)which is prohibited by the government but they don't have choice. I don't want to be exaggerated here I am describing exactly what my sister told me. Because of their living condition, Christella is diagnosed malaria which she has been dealing with for a long time now. Despite their alarming situation, they enjoy going to school, in fact they are the only ones who have chance to receive an education in the family through Haitian Roots. They were excited when they heard you were coming to see them last December. Since the situation is so alarming for the parents I mean since they are deprived from getting a shelter, food, health, clean water, Christella's mom becomes suicidal. Huguette said they are not the only ones who are living in such condition. She said also if we compare their pictures now, I am talking about the Haitian Roots children, they may look worse than the last pictures we took last year."

So...this is what I'm thinking about tonight. I have hugged and kissed those two children. I know them. I am trying to make a difference specifically for them and still it is not enough.

There are times when I feel so strong and almost rebellious against those who have no hope. The Haitians have a proverb: "Kote ki genyen lespwa, genyen lavi." It means, "Where there is hope, there is life." I want to stand up and shout, as Jedediah Grant once said during his decades of missionary service, "I feel as if I could say to the mountains and to all HELL, get out of my way or I will kick you out! I am NOT going to surrender!" But then there are times when I just sit and cry.

For now I will go curl up on my bed with the OBM. I will pray that Jesus Christ will come SOON to save these little ones. And then after I've wallowed awhile, I will get back up and try to figure out what I can do while waiting for that Millenial day.

I am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true. I am not bound to succeed, but I am bound to live up to what light I have. ~Abraham Lincoln

Background

My friend, Jen, has such a cool background and I found this one at the same place: http://cutestblogontheblock.blogspot.com/
Cute, huh?!

Leap Year

Please pause other music and click "play" here to create the proper ambiance for this post.

So, this is leap year. A very, very special year. This year has one more day than the old "common year". I felt it would be very important for me to write something to commemorate this special day. Regrettably I can think of nothing important. I keep pressuring myself, "Come on, mush brain, think of something. This day won't come around for another FOUR more years. THINK OF SOMETHING!" Nada. I even tried to start to read an article describing the complex process in which a leap year is calculated using the Gregorian, Julian, Chinese, Hebrew, Hindu, and Iranian calendars. BOOORING. So, forget it. All I can think about are two of my favorite photos.

The first is in honor of one of my jib lurkers. Kelly, if you read this, you better leave a comment. Kelly and I have been friends for approximately 28 years. We don't smoke and never have. We don't fight, but sometimes did. These photos were taken, along with some others that could easily be used as blackmail about 13 years ago with our friend, Anthony. They were taken at the Haunted Mansion on 25th Street where two of my brothers forced their wives to live and where one nearly lost his life when a ghost did some painting in the house which caused an allergic reaction in his brain resulting in headaches and a CRAZY note he left for his wife when we took him to the ER. (Megan, don't bother telling me to take a look at those orbs in the photo. Yeah, I noticed. But its called the reflection of the flash in the window.) And also, speaking of the haunted paint incident, just ask Meg about paint allergies in our family. Oh, I feel SO sad for you. You can't be around certain wet paint smells. That is just awful. What a terrible allergy to have. I'M ALLERGIC TO MY HAIR.

The second photo was taken at a birthday party in Meg's backyard about 5 years ago. She got out the slip and slide. My nephew, Carson, loved it. He is just about as relaxed on the slip and slide as he is playing basketball. And if you are wondering, neither of these photos was taken on leap year.

Oh man. I'm cracking myself up with all of my wise cracks. Good night and happy leap year.