The Happiness Calendar

The date was May 18, 1971; a day to live on in our memories. I realize many of you were not even born at that time. But surely, you must have looked down from heaven with excitement and angelic shouts! This was the day that the Utah Stars won the ABA Championship title. I knew...that you knew...this historic date! I have it written down in my Happiness Calendar.

I got the idea of a Happiness Calendar years and years ago from an article in the Readers Digest. You construct a twelve month calendar containing blank squares. In each square you note a few keywords and the year to remind you of a happy event. By the end of your life, you have hundreds and hundreds of wonderful memories.

Since I am doing the writing here, let me share some of my squares with you. February 1, 1985 was the Dale Murphy fireside at Weber State and February 18, 1996 was the Steve Young fireside. February 27, 1974 I received my patriarchal blessing from Grandpa Bennett. March 15, 1979 I attended the rededication of the Logan Temple, even with the cast on my broken leg and crutches. March 30, 1984 was my first date with Jim Robinson (the love of my life...at that time). April 4, 1975 found me in the Salt Lake Tabernacle, just a few feet away from Pres. Kimball as the USU Institute Chorale sang in a session of General Conference. On May 30, 1991 Mom, Dad and I ventured out on our vacation to the church sites around Nauvoo. June 11, 1994 was the Michael Bolton concert. July 16, 1989 I was set apart as a German extraction worker in our stake.

I still remember, like it was yesterday, July 25, 1970 when my sisters took me and a friend to a Bobby Sherman concert. I thought I had died and gone to heaven! Probably the happiest day of my life came on August 2, 1982 when I received notice that I had passed the CPA exam, FINALLY! September 10, 1982 was the day Pres. Reagan came to Hooper and I along with thousands of others crowded the Weber County streets...for what? November 18, 1975 was a royal day. I was crowned Miss Rich Hall. I still have the diamond tiara I wore...worth all of $4.57. And finally the girls' team from Clearfield High beat the boys' team on the Inquiring Editor television program on December 8, 1973.

There were other dates to note, but I realized the "home movie" syndrome might be setting in and you are bored with my slide show. But let me add just one more. July 17, 2010. As of this moment, it is 6:58 a.m. and already I have a happy moment. I was out walking this morning. The blanket of clouds must have been an electric blanket with the temperature turned up to eighty. It was hot. Most of the sky was overcast, but towards the mountains, the clouds were wispy. The sun was attempting to shine through and managed a pink glow around those yellow clouds. It was a beautiful sight. And I realized I have another day on this earth to enjoy. Because...

Yesterday I had a three month checkup. The lab work did not include the tumor marker test, but all other procedures indicated good health. It was an "attitude of gratitude" kind of day. It probably won't be entered on my happiness calendar; nor will this morning's walk. But they were good moments, nonetheless.

And I've had my share of not-so-good days. It is in those times I try to remember Pres. Packer's counsel: "Teach our members that if they have a good, miserable day once in awhile, or several in a row, to stand steady and face them. Things will straighten out." I wonder if maintaining an Unhappiness Calendar would help me see how silly some of my bad days were, and that things really did straighten out just like Pres. Packer said? (By the way, I have one, only one, entry in January! Watch out for that month!)

So may I challenge you to start your own happiness calendar. You can go back and fill in the spaces from your journals or personal history. Or you can go forward from today. If you don't have access to an exact date, print off a few months with miscellaneous squares. Just write in the memory. Start a calendar and maintain it for Family Home Evening each week. Strolls down memory lane can be so wonderful. "Recall it as often as you wish, a happy memory never wears out."

Our Relay Team

I'm not having much luck with the American Cancer Society's Relay For Life events. Last year, I didn't have the physical stamina to put together a team. This year I was prepared to participate with the Cancer Busters, a team comprised of members of my Stake. But the event got rained out. Perhaps next year. Regardless, I would like to borrow the catch phrase Relay For Life for this week's Grace Note. Today's editorial may sound familiar to some of you because it is similar to one I wrote over a year ago...one that didn't get widely circulated.

The previous Grace Note was entitled The Sign Up Sheet. After sitting in 1,680 Relief Society meetings (48 meetings annually for 35 years), I can now say I understand why we're here on earth. It all has to do with sign up sheets. Relief Societies are notorious for wanting your signature. We put our names to lists for cannery assignments, casseroles to the sick and the afflicted, window washing at the church building, ward socials and gatherings, feeding the missionaries, substitute teaching in Primary or performing in the ward karaoke night. Week after week we sign up for an assignment here or an activity there and often we feel guilty if we pass the obligatory clipboard on to our neighbor without our "Ann Singleton" attached.

Consider this statement from Pres. Henry B. Eyring. "Not everyone shouted for joy [in the premortal councils]. One third of the children of Heavenly Father saw danger in the plan He offered us. The risks seemed too great. It would be too hard, it seemed to them, to keep God's commandments perfectly with all the weaknesses of a mortal body." (Henry B. Eyring, Church News, April 18, 2009). Knowing how I shy away from hard things, I can't image that I had courage to "sign up" for the mortal experience activity. But apparently, I did. So did you. Our ancestors before us and our descendants belows us did. Therefore, this chain of spiritual brothers and sisters agreeing to take the risk of agency is a type of Relay For Life...each team member taking their respective turn and running the race of mortal life.

Someone has to begin the race when the official gun is sounded. If we had enough lines and spaces, and of course the written records, we could trace our ancestral roots back to Grandpa Adam and Grandma Eve. They volunteered for the first leg of the relay. After nine hundred or so laps, Grandpa Noah and Grandma Mrs. Noah picked up the relay. What I wouldn't give to be able to trace our genealogy from there, down through 3018 BC, to 1657 BC, to 398 AD? Who were those people? Where did they live? Were they good, honest people, or "dirty, rotten, scoundrels"? It isn't until the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries that names emerge to give identity to our specific team. Such relayers as James Bennett, Nelson Arave, Sarah Singleton, Phoebe Webster, Enoch King, Nancy Melvina Taylor, Nancy Ann Shaffer and thousands of others consented to run their own leg, often during some very difficult and challenging times.

We are now in the final stages of the relay. The baton has been passed to our generation and the few generations yet to come. I find it fascinating that Kathleen and Alan are at this very moment walking the footsteps of our ancestors in England. And at the same time, we are anticipating three new recruits to our team in the coming months. Do you think Daxson's little sister is chatting with great-great-grandma Susan Arrenia Perry right now and getting the lowdown on this Singleton bunch? Is Jessie being instructed by great-great-grandpa William Andrews on what is expected of her? Is Sam's sibling being coached on how to run the race by another Samuel, even Samuel Thurgood? I've got just enough hope to say "why not"?

Amy and Shannon can testify there is no such thing as a one-person relay. That would be called a marathon. A relay takes a team effort. No wonder we spend precious time in the temple and sing "...families can be together forever..." July is wonderful month to focus on our relay for life. We honor our pioneer and unknown ancient ancestors with gratitude and with an anxiousness to meet and greet them. We appreciate their legacy and good names. We endeavor to leave the world a better place when our lap is completed for those who will finish the race for us...the great-great grandchildren to come. I'm so glad you all grabbed the clipboard in the premortal councils and signed up for this assignment, as hard as some of our trials may be. We knew it would be hard, but we also knew it would be worth the effort to stay on "track"...in this our Relay For Life.

T-Shirts

I've been thinking about T-shirts lately. For my morning walks, I usually pull on one of the several T-shirts I've received the last few years as a cancer survivor. There's the purple one from my first Relay For Life. Sometimes I wear the bright pink from the Race For the Cure. If I don't feel like being too bold, I put on the white Race For the Cure. But there are other T-shirts that can be worn for everyday use. I still have two shirts that Ryan brought from Hawaii: LDS Church Relief Team (Hurricane Iniki).

How boring were clothes closets before the invention of the T-shirt? I researched a little of their history. They came on the scene before the 1900's as union worker underclothes...mine workers, industrial laborers, etc. Then during war times, soldiers wore them for extra warmth in cold weather. But because they were not really considered underwear, a military shirt could be taken off in hot weather and the man could still be considered "clothed" for service. According to the source I read, it was Marlon Brando that spiked the interest in everyday wear of the T-shirt in his movie "A Streetcar Named Desire".

I admit I have never seen Marlon's movie. But I can imagine his shirt was white, and plain, and had rolled up sleeves...pretty cool for 1950. It was not too long after this that Walt Disney caught the vision with printed T's adorned with images of Mickey Mouse and other "Goofy" characters. It didn't take long for businesses to realize "human billboarding" could pay off in effective marketing. Because of the fact that I didn't really pay for my survivor T-shirts, I am obliged to accept the printed advertisements of those who actually did pay, namely the sponsors that expended tax-deductible dollars: FM 100.3, Pepsi, Yoplait, UPS, Ford, Bank of America, and a host of drug companies who names I cannot pronounce.

Very seldom do you find a plain T-shirt in today's fashion world. Sometimes we proudly wear a shirt that helps the gross margin of Nike. But most often our choice of apparel makes a statement of our emotions, our devotion, our humor or our political passion. We declare our commitment to the Utah Jazz, USU, Atlanta Braves or another favorite sports team. Onlookers can immediately determine where we spent our summer vacation by our donning of shirts from Yellowstone, Grand Canyon or Disney World. Mass production of shirts creates a bond with those who wear them, such as our Race For the Cure. The whole point is that the T-shirt is an avenue for personal expression. The term "human billboard" extends beyond our personal agreement to advertise Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Awareness. What we wear advertises who we are and what we represent as a person.

Do we need catchy logos and Fruit of the Loom cotton to do this? Can someone look into my face and determine what I stand for? Do my actions speak louder than my T-shirt? I hope so. It would be wonderful if those who see me in the grocery store could read the feelings of my soul rather than the words printed on my chest. I would hope that my life's T-shirt advertises what is really dear to me: faith in God, hope for a sunny day, the love of family, a sense of belonging, willingness to serve and a commitment to work.

On the lighter side, if I ever start my own T-shirt business, here are some favorite sayings that I think would make for great reading:

"Some days you are the bug; some days you are the windshield."

"I went to the 30th reunion of my preschool. I didn't want to go, because I've put on like a hundred pounds."

"I hate housework! You make the beds, do the dishes -- and six months later you have to start all over again."

But for now, I will stick to my survivor shirts that remind me to: "Take charge of your health!", "Imagine a world without breast cancer", and "Celebrate, Remember, Fight Back".

The Two Dollar Dilemma

I never thought an early morning walk in the neighborhood could result in difficult moral dilemmas! Such was the case this last week. One of my walking routes includes going straight down 6000 South to my church, around the parking lot and back up the road to home. Last Tuesday morning I opted for this route. I had been walking about ten minutes and was ready to cross the street to the church, when I noticed two one-dollar bills laying folded on the sidewalk at my feet. It's amazing how quickly the mind can process facts in a split second. By the time I stopped my forward motion, my brain had already considered several possible courses of action.

Option 1: I wore pants with pockets. Two dollars could easily fit in either pocket to be later spent on one package of Peanut M&M's and a Snickers bar, with pennies left over for my piggy bank. Option 2: I could take the money home and later deliver it to the Roy City Police Department. Let them try to find the owner of pocket change. Option 3: It may be reasonable to take the money and deliver it to a favorite charity. Option 4: I could appoint myself as the legal guardian of the funds and come back to the spot sometime later with a sign requesting the "loser" to call 801-776-4286 to claim their money. Option 5: I could ignore the whole situation. "What money? I didn't see any money!" Option 6 was to continue walking, hoping that divine inspiration would come as I walked around the perimeter of the church. If the money was still there on my way back up the sidewalk, I would know what to do then.

Leaving the dollars where they were, I walked...my conscience debating back and forth. I really hoped the money would miraculously disappear by the time I made my way back. Then I wouldn't have to decide. But, alas, to my disappointment, there was George Washington and his twin brother George Washington staring up at me from the cement. Again, my mind went over the options. Option 1 was never really an option. I am honest enough that I would never pocket the money. Option 2: Realistically, would anyone think to go to the police to see if two dollars had been turned in? No, I don't think so. Besides, I was taught in Seminary to "avoid the appearance of evil" What if someone drove by and saw me pocket the money. They would see me take it but never see me deliver it. Option 3: I had no right to decide whether the Salvation Army or the Make A Wish Foundation deserved the use of someone else's money. Option 4: Probably not smart to publish my telephone number in such a manner. Option 5: If all else fails, do nothing. And that's what I did. I left the money where I first discovered it and went on my way up the road. I will admit, I arrived at this conclusion because I was "chicken" rather than from a sense of moral duty.

The story doesn't end here. As I proceeded up the sidewalk, I had to move over into the grass to let a jogger pass by going the opposite direction. I wondered what he would do when he most assuredly would see where the money was left behind. I gave him ten seconds to reach the spot and then I turned around. Just then, he stopped, bent down, picked up the money and was on his way again. Did he have the same thought process as I? Or did he immediately know the right, or the wrong, thing to do? I'll never know. Now that's the end of the story.

Whether I did right or wrong...it's hard for me to say. I am disappointed in myslef that I couldn't come up with one positive, no-doubt-about-it solution to the two dollar dilemma. The tests of integrity and honesty are sometimes in the gray area, neither black or white. I wonder if I could have made a quicker and better decision if the amount of money was $1,000, or $100, or even $10? But for two dollars...I hope I haven't lost celestial brownie points simply because I couldn't decide!

This would be a great discussion question for Family Home Evening this week. If the Primary children can think of Options 7, 8 or 9, please let me know. Then I will know what to do next time I see a penny in the parking lot!

All Creatures Great and Small

I've been trying to be diligent in my quest for 10,000 steps a day. In a two week period, I've succeeded three times, two of those days being Saturdays. It's amazing how many steps are involved in wandering through the grocery story and mowing the lawn! On the other days, I average around 8,000 steps. But that is with a conscientious effort in going on an early morning walk through the neighborhood and a vigorous session on the treadmill at night.

I love the early morning walks. Right now, it is light enough to feel secure and safe in the journey. Because, you know, there are dangers out there...speeding cars, ferocious dogs, criminals, and cracks in the sidewalk! I will probably be accused by neighbors and friends of not waving to them as they drive by on their way to work. The truth is: I do not have my head down to avoid eye to eye contact with every worker heading to HAFB at 6:00 a.m. I am really needing to make eye to eye contact with the uneven segments of cement below my feet. One second of false security and I go "splat" on the sidewalk. I don't want to find out which would hurt more, my ego or the fragile bones of my body?

Another reason I keep focused on the ground below me: critters...creepy, crawling critters. Side note: do any of you remember the Creepy Crawlers toy? Take one little baking device...fill a spider or bug mold with colored goo...bake for a specified minute...and voila...you have rubbery, creepy crawlers to hide in sister's bed! Okay, back to my dialogue. If I don't pay attention, I could be the means of destruction for many crawlers who are going about their business on their sidewalk of life. Ants, worms, bugs, spiders, millipedes...you name it. They all think they will make it back home after their jaunt to "wherever" they may be going. Lo and behold, here comes a heavy Nike foot to "squash" their hopes.

Perhaps those of you who are smarter than me will know the answer. Do bugs think? Is there some kind of tiny brain cell in the body of a mosquito, or a lady bug, or a grasshopper? Do they have beating hearts? Or what exactly is in their physical makeup that triggers an instinct to move four legs and then another four legs, or to create a hive? I am the first to admit, I do not understand the hows and whys of all of God's creations. But I have enough respect for them that I don't want to destroy those creatures. Well, all except the ants. I can walk on a pile of ants without even thinking. But I try to step around the potato bugs and the worms each morning. Besides, I really don't like the sight of smeared centipede juice, or the sound of cracking cricket carcasses.

What has all of this to do with my Grace Notes this week? A few weeks ago, Mom was kind enough to attend Cancer Survivor's Day with me at McKay Dee Hospital. Some celebrations throughout the world involve magnanimous service projects or days at an amusement park. But Ogden, Utah...we are very low key. Our celebration day includes a guitar player, a few speakers and lunch. If you are really adventurous, you can participate in Wi golf in the adjoining room. It's not a celebration that makes news, but it is something I want to be involved in...simply because I did survive and want to celebrate that accomplishment. This year's theme was The Chain of Survival. As we went in, I was asked to put my name on a paper cutout of a person. I also put Mom's name on a different colored person. Physicians were another color, and volunteers in the health community were yet another. They pasted all these paper dolls side by side, hand in hand down the hallway. The idea is we all work together to survive...not just in cancer, but in life.

Mrs. Daddy Long Legs has no clue that my decision yesterday morning to walk around, or over her, allowed her to survive another day. As human beings, we have been given dominion over "every living thing that moveth upon the earth" (Moses 2:28) There's a certain level of responsibility with that command. However, I don't want anyone to feel guilty about the fly swatter that is hanging on the hook in the kitchen closet. And don't even think about the voices you may be hearing from Mr. Fly ("Help me, help me...") I've done my share of nuking a swarm of wasps with RAID. What I am saying is...wow...what a wonderful world with such diversity of life.

Spring is a time of destroying the weeds, but planting the garden. We eradicate the ant hill erected at the bottom of the steps, but rejoice in hanging a bird feeder from the porch. We build the deluxe Marriott-style coop for the chickens and then we have them for dinner. It's all part of the plan of survival. In the pecking order of animal life, I am grateful I'm at the top of the food chain and not at the bottom with the eensy weensy spider. The next time you are out for a walk, be aware of the variety of life all around you and wonder at the miracle of God's creations, all creatures great and small.

10,000 Steps

Memorial Day weekend, May 30, 2010. It is a holiday set apart to honor those who have gone before. First and foremost are those that gave their lives for the freedoms we usually take for granted in America. I was probably in junior high school, but I still remember the day we received word that cousin Renee's husband had been killed in Vietnam. It was a tragic time. In our country's short life, millions have lost the battle in our defense. Millions have fought and returned home safely. In my ward lives a man who serves in the military. Each Memorial Day, 4th of July, Veterans Day, and any other patriotic holiday, he wears his uniform to church. It is an awesome sight. I appreciate his constant reminder of how blessed we are to be living here in the United States...problems and all. I remember a thought that is inscribed on a memorial at the Utah State Capitol Building. "For those who fought for it, freedom has a flavor the protected will never know."

Second, we honor our pioneer heritage. Our entire Singleton/Bennett ancestry came to Utah as Mormon pioneers. Some came by ship from England. Others migrated west from New England and Canada. A few encountered tragic situations as they came across the Midwest plains. But for the most part, their trek was uneventful. My mind reflects on the words to our Primary song. "Pioneer children sang as they walked, and walked, and walked...and walked." The same routine day after day; the same scenery; the same food, the same people, the same tiredness when the sun set. I would wager that many of our great-great grandparents complained about the journey and the monotony of each day. They were just human like you and me. But they also kept going with "faith in every footstep".

That's my focus today: footsteps. With a year and a half of cancer treatments and recovery, I haven't been diligent in keeping up a physical fitness program. I decided NOW was the time to start over. I bought a pedometer and challenged myself to walk 10,000 steps a day. The first day was embarrassing. Let's see. It's about ten steps to the copy machine and twenty steps to the ladies' room. Another fifty steps in and out of the office building and maybe twenty five steps in and around the kitchen for dinner. I was lucky to have recorded over 200 steps. So my goal of walking 10,000 steps a day seemed as daunting as crossing Nebraska for James Bennett. This last week I made a conscientious effort to go the "extra mile". I went out walking in the mornings (weather permitting) and spent time on the treadmill at night. The highest recorded number reached 8,500...until yesterday.

Saturday was a good day. I clocked 4,000 steps on my morning walk; another 1,000 at the grocery story; about 3,000 mowing the lawn and doing yard work. The remaining 2,000 came with chores, errands and activities of the day. I celebrated my first day of reaching the goal of 10,000 steps. Hurray!

I acknowledge the blessing of being able to walk. I humbly recognize that some people cannot. Some of us take baby steps. Some steps are slower than in years before. Some steps are painful and are limited. But regardless of the number of steps we take each day, Great-Grandma Phoebe showed us that it is the amount of faith in each one that matters and the direction we are going.

So this Memorial Day as we honor the footsteps of those tramping on the muddy battlefields or along the dusty Mormon Trail, I hope the footsteps of today are lasting legacies for generations to come. One day Chloe, Daxsen and McKean will relate to their grandchildren the tales of how we "sang as we walked, and walked, and walked....and walked" in faith.

Synergy

I first learned about synergy at the Epcot Center inside Disney World many years ago. It had something to do with the whole producing more energy than the sum of the parts...or was it the other way around? Per Wikipedia, synergy is where different entities cooperate advantageously for a final outcome. Teamwork will produce an overall better result than if each person was working toward the same goal individually.

There have been times in my life when I have been part of a synergistic team. As students at Utah State, Shauna and I volunteered to be part of the relief efforts during the Teton Dam cleanup. There was a feeling among the participants that urged everyone to work a little harder. We fed off each other's energy. In a weird way, I also feel this concept at the Gear Up Seminars we attend each year for work. There are thousands attending for the same purpose of learning all we can about the new tax laws for the upcoming season. Each person could study on their own, but synergy of the combined whole is more conducive to learning.

I can imagine that Amy feels synergy in running her marathons. The individual runners add to the determination to finish. Synergy can be experienced in presidencies and councils, families, employees, neighborhoods, countries, congregations...you name it. Did we feel it after 9-11? Do we feel it in organized service projects or when we attend the Temple? I feel it at Education Week when 30,000 are gathered for the purpose of learning. What about an exciting Jazz game? There is some truth to the idea of "home court advantage".

One of my latest experiences was at the Salt Lake City's Susan G. Komen Race For the Cure. Ryan's work was competing in the fundraiser and got us involved. The synergy was tangible as 16,738 participants gathered in front of West High School...all wearing pink and white...all emotionally attached to a common cause. This was not really a race. Linda, Russ, Chloe and I opted for the one mile Fun Walk. About a hundred yards into the race, the Fun Walkers turned left while the other 3 to 5k runners went on ahead. Our pace was...let's just say the pace was an average between "snail" and "turtle". At one point we even stopped to watch the other participants from the sidelines.

On the other hand, Shannon, Ryan, Hayley and Cooper ventured out with the runners. At first their gait was slow because of the sheer number of people. But as the distance spread, so did the room to run. From our perspective as the runners advanced ahead of us, it appeared to be a mass of white shirts bobbing up and down. Hours later, everyone crossed the finish line...wherever that imaginary line was drawn in the crowd of people congregating at the Gateway Plaza!! (May I say that cell phones were a necessity. Otherwise, two weeks later, we would still be looking for each other in downtown Salt Lake City!)

It was just a sea of pink and white T-shirts. I felt we were actors on the set of Rawhide...head em up, move em out! Linda suggested our experience was much like Moses leading the children of Israel out of Egypt. And we all wondered what they did for potty breaks in the wilderness!! Survivor participants wore bright pink T-shirts. There were celebrations and congratulations spoken from pink shirt to pink shirt. Some white shirt participants wore tags on their backs indicating they were running in memory of Aunt Clara, or Mom, or Matilda the neighbor... because some don't survive. It was emotional and I was so grateful to be a pink shirter and not a name tag.

In the Wikipedia definition of synergy, they gave the example of two people wanting an apple from a tree. Neither person is tall enough to reach the juicy red apple. But if person A stands on the shoulders of person B, together they can not only pick one apple, but maybe a bushel of apples. I could have participated in the Race For the Cure alone. Ryan and Hayley could have done it without involving the rest of the family. But being there together and with the support of those of you with other responsbilities at home that morning, we combined our energy to make a difference and to create a wonderful memory.

I don't think any of us are tall enough to pick the apples from our trees in life. Figuratively, we have to stand on each others' shoulders. You have certainly allowed me to stand on yours for strength and courage and to stretch a little higher. Hopefully I can be strong when you need someone to stand on to reach your apple. Either way, together we stand very tall...not just in surviving cancer, but in all the concerns of our family. Another word for synergy is LOVE!

The Dark Ages

For literature lovers, you might fantasize about living during the times of Julius Caesar, King Arthur, or even Kit Carson. But on the practical side, I doubt if any one of us would prefer living in 673 A.D. rather than 2010. Am I right? The Dark Ages sound exactly that: dark.

Last Friday, I had a suspicion that it was going to be a long night. As I was driving home from work about 6:00 p.m. the traffic light at 6000 South wasn't working. (Side note: it is amazing how many people don't know or ignore the traffic rules.) Sure enough, when I pulled into my driveway and hit the "Open Sesame" button on the garage door opener, nothing happened. Yikes, I had to walk an extra three steps to get into the house!

Once inside I tried to think of chores to do that didn't require electricity. No vacuuming, laundry, cooking, computer work, sewing (not that I wanted to do them anyway, but it was frustrating to be limited in my freedom). I couldn't listen to the radio, television, or CD player. I guess I could dust, sweep, sing, read and play the piano. As I ate my meager supper of grapefruit and buttered bread, and wandered aimlessly about the house, I frequently looked out the windows. What I saw was intriguing. In every direction, the neighborhood was alive with activity...outside. Dads were playing nerfball with the little boys. Girls were riding their bicycles. Teenagers were walking the dogs. And can you believe this one? Neighbors were actually visiting with each other on the sidewalks! Crazy, man! It dawned on me that instead of families being holed up behind closed doors cooking supper and being buried in electronic devices, they were living life. It was a phenomenon that only happens this day and age when the power goes out.

A couple of weeks ago I had my three month checkup. I was especially anxious to be told the results of the tumor marker testing. To my surprise and relief, all results were in the normal range. All except for a deficiency in Vitamin D. (Well, I'm deficient in a lot of ways...social tact, memory power, and sex appeal...but Vitamin D?) Dr. Ingersoll inquired about my exercising habits. I hung my head in shame. I explained the life of a tax preparer during January, February, March and April. She understood. She wrote out her prescription: daily walks in the sunshine.

I have found that easier said than done. In the last two months, have we had more than two days in a row without rain or snow? The forecasts have alternated between partly cloudy and mostly cloudy. I don't feel safe walking alone in any neighborhood. It's dark when I get up in the morning; too hot when I get home from work; and walking the block during a lunch hour only produces sweaty, swollen feet for the rest of the day. So what am I supposed to do? If I were smart, I'd do what my neighbors did on Friday night. I would turn off all the electrical gadgets and just go outside with the rest of the world.

Gone are the days when neighbors visited on the front porch; the children congregated in the backyard for tag and races; we walked to the store, church meetings, school and to the cornfields; we put the laundry outside on the clothesline to dry; or after a hard day's work, we meditated on the veranda. I think I could soak in a lot of sunny rays and Vitamin D if today were 1910 instead of 2010.

Vitamin D is important medically. I was reading last night in my Coping magazine where 69 percent of women being treated for breast cancer had low levels of D. These lower levels are linked to decreased bone mineral density and increases the risk of cancer recurrence. But maybe equally as important are the social implications. It would be easy to find myself deficient in neighborly kindness. I guess I better limit my dependence on electricity and get out in the sunshine and the neighborhood. You just never know when Rocky Mountain Power is going to take another vacation and I want to be ready.

So Monday I will be playing Hopscotch on the driveway. Tuesday I will be skipping in the park. I think Wednesday would be a good day to go door to door to see who's home. Thursday, I will take my lunch hour to buy a walking dog companion. Friday I will play hooky from work and ride my bicycle to Antelope Island. And Saturday would be ideal for planting pansies. If anyone wants to join me, turn off the GS64 (or whatever) and the oven. I'd be glad to have some company.

Deadlines

It was inevitable. I had to take several weeks off from writing my Grace Notes to take care of business. With only twenty four hours each day and sixteen of them being spent at work, there was little time for creative journaling. But I am anxious to be back, with the hope that my words will uplift and encourage both reader and writer.

This may surprise you...not the fact that I have an obsolete 1970 edition of a Merriam-Webster Dictionary, but of what I found as a definition. I looked up the word "deadline". Number One definition was: "A line drawn within or around a prison that a prisoner passes at the risk of being shot." Am I the only person that didn't know that? It makes sense, however. A line...you cross...you're dead. Not that the IRS would go to such extreme measures, but I felt missing the April 15th deadline was equally life threatening. So I put all my time and energy into the days leading up to the final day.

This may also surprise you. The IRS is somewhat merciful. If a taxpayer knows they cannot complete their return by April 15th, an extension for filing (not in paying, they still want their money)is granted. That's very thoughtful of them. I have two boxes of taxpayer files waiting for October 15th. But being human, they will probably sit there until October 13th, at which time there will be another scramble to meet the deadline.

Consider some of these other routine deadlines and extensions we face everyday.

Deadline: 4:45 a.m. wake up time
Extension: Snooze button
Deadline: "Be ye therefore perfect"
Extension: Repentance and forgiveness
Deadline: Lose 15 pounds by the end of the year
Extension: New Year's resolution
Deadline: Last Micheal Bolton song on my favorite CD
Extension: Auto replay
Deadline: Crossing off the "to do" list
Extension: New sunrise
Deadline: Starting time for Sacrament Meeting
Extension: Mormon Standard Time
Deadline: Mortality
Extension: Resurrection
Deadline: Complete and turn in a homework assignment
Extension: No, there is no extension. You accept the consequence of a failing grade

Let's face the facts of human existence. We are driven and ruled by the calendar and the clock. We need to be at the workplace by 8:00 a.m. Soccer practice begins at 6:30 p.m. Piano lessons last one half hour. Children need to be in bed by 9:00 p.m. The Jazz have 6.9 seconds to score two more points to win the game. The birthday cake is baked for 35 minutes. Home and visiting teaching must be completed by the 31st. The wonderful sale at Kohl's only lasts until May 15th. If we miss the deadline for inhaling good, semi-clean oxygen...well, that's a deadline you don't want to miss.

So, is there a moral to this Grace Notes today? Probably not. I just needed to explain my absence. But I am reminded of a scripture I used in Sharing Time last week. It is found in Alma 34:32. "For behold, this life is the time for men to prepare to meet God; yea, behold the day of this life is the day for men to perform their labors." Subsequent verses counsel to not procrastinate our repentance, because this life is our training for eternity. Perhaps, I have already shared this memory with you. I am reminded of an old Twilight Zone episode. A man has a pocket watch that stops time for everyone but the holder of the watch. In the beginning, it is great fun to push the button, and time and people stand still. He can rob a bank; eat a delicious meal without paying; play pranks on the statuesque-like neighbor, etc. With another push of the button, time resumes and life goes on. However, at the climax of the episode, while in limbo mode, the man drops the watch. It shatters and is irreparable. He wanders through the world...alone...forever...without TIME.

I am grateful for deadlines. We need them to motivate, direct and urge us on to do and to be. They serve the purpose of dividing up our minutes and hours into manageable segments of progress. Oops, got to go now. My deadline for writing is up and I have to get my hair dried. If I miss that deadline, I frizz!!!!!

Time Out

For those of you who have been patient and willing to read my thoughts, I announce a "time out". The stresses of tax season have caught up to me and I am only able to take care of the necessities of life. I would bet you all have "been there" and "done that" at times in your lives.

So for now...at least until after April 15th...Grace Notes is on hold. I'll let you know when the publication will be renewed. Thanks, Ann

Help Wanted

Unfortunately "Help Wanted" signs are not too common in storefront windows in these times of economic stress. There are plenty of helpers with desire, but very few opportunities to contribute. However, this last week I have noticed different "Help Wanted" requests and it all started with a beautiful pink hat.

HELP WANTED: a prayer. I just happened to walk by our office foyer and noticed a client waiting for an appointment. The bright pink hat with a flower attached caught my attention immediately...combined with that "look" in her eyes. I knew that look and my heart ached for her. After her appointment, Steve confirmed my suspicions. She was in advanced stages of cancer and treatments. That night I offered a prayer on behalf of a total stranger. Quite often I express such prayers. I have asked for blessings on anyone who is having a chemo treatment that day, or anyone that has just heard the news of their condition. Through our faith, I think Heavenly Father blesses those we don't know just as much as the loved ones we constantly remember in our prayers.

HELP WANTED: a teeter-totter dad. My boss's son was in my office last week helping with computer glitches. He was explaining how his life was so busy and so stressful, but that he had decided to take last Wednesday off work. He told his staff that he had something important to do. (This is a perfect MormonAd.) His three-year old son was ecstatic when they arrived at the local Play World and saw the balls, the slides, the inflatables,...you name it, they had it. This man spent several hours playing with his little boy. I'm not sure who was happier that night as they were safely tucked in their beds. It was a memorable day for both.

HELP WANTED: someone to notice. We went visiting teaching this week. I will admit, we have had the name of a new sister on our list for several months. We didn't do anything in November. In December we made a stop-by visit and introduced ourselves through the screen door. I sent a note in January. But for February, we really made the effort. She was very nice. In fact, her fifteen-year old daughter was "visit taught" as well as her husband who is not a member. Sharon and I didn't have to worry about carrying on a conversation. They just took over and visited with us. They seemed so genuinely happy that someone had finally noticed their presence in our community. That's all we want, isn't it?

HELP WANTED: someone at the right time, at the right place. Another sister we visit teach is Sis. Burgess. She is one of the sweetest elderly sisters I know. Her husband has not been well for over a year. But last week, he insisted on going outside to rake some leaves. Yes...you can guess what happened. His legs lost their strength and he went down. Sis. Burgess saw him from her kitchen window and rushed out to help. But being the short, fragile woman she is, she didn't have the muscle to raise him to his feet. Just then, a Roy City police officer drove by, noticed their plight and stopped to render service. Thankfully, Bro. Burgess is no worse off because of his fall. I would like to think that anyone in an "unmarked" car would have taken time to offer aid... not just a cop on duty.

"I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any fellow-creature, let me do it now; let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."

I need to live more by those famous words because "help wanted" signs are everywhere. Too often I close my eyes to those that are blinking for attention. I may not be able to "cure" the world, but I certainly can pray for a pink hat lady...somewhere.

FHE, Ann Style

For one of my Personal Progress goals, I need to plan and present a Family Home Evening lesson on the topic of how it requires faith to be obedient to a gospel principle. My house plants and I could hold our own FHE, but it would be much nicer to share it with you.

Opening Song: Saturday is a special day, it's the day we get ready for Sunday. We clean the house, and we shop at the store, so we won't have to work until Monday. We brush our clothes, and we shine our shoes. And we call it our get-the-work-done day. Then we trim our nails and shampoo our hair so we can be ready for Sunday.

Opening Prayer:....do I need to remind you to fold your arms, close your eyes and bow your heads?

Scripture: Isaiah 58:13-14 (I will paraphrase) If we turn aside from doing our "own" thing on the Sabbath day and call it a delight, then God will bless us.

Lesson on the Sabbath Day:
1. The weekend. Is this technically the last day of the week or the first day of the week?... actually both. It commemorates the 7th day of the creation when God rested from His labors. But after the time of Christ, it became the first day of the week in celebration of the resurrection. At the end of the week, I find it a wonderful time to think back on the previous six days and take inventory of what I have done, or haven't done...a nice ending to the week. It is also a good first day, to plan for upcoming activities and responsibilites, repent and promise to do better...a nice beginning to the week. I think of it as a time to empty the "garbage" and fill up the "tank".

2. The Sabbath. The word Sabbath comes from the Hebrew word meaning day of rest. It's purpose is to give us a certain day of the week to direct our thoughts and actions toward God. It is not just a day to rest our physical bodies from work. But it is a day to energize our spiritual bodies for work. God gives us six days to take care of our temporal needs. It's only fair that we show our devotion to Him by giving one day back. And selfishly, isn't it wonderful to have a day away from the concerns of the world?

3. The Sunday. I didn't take the time to google the word "Sunday", so I will tell you how I feel about the noun. Whenever I see the word or speak it, I immediately think of the color yellow...because of the sun. It's a sunny day even if the clouds cover the rays. A couple of years ago, Elder Wirthlin gave a beautiful Conference talk saying: "I think that of all the days since the beginning of this world's history, that Friday [Christ's crucifixion] was the darkest." But he went on to say "The despair did not linger because on Sunday, the resurrected Lord burst the bonds of death." (Ensign November 2006 page 30). He ended by reminding us that no matter how dark our Friday is (or Tuesday or Wednesday...) Sunday will come. With Sunday comes the yellow rays of hope, spiritual energy, and renewal.

Testimony: It takes faith to observe the Sabbath day and to keep it holy (Exodus 20:8). We are all busy and could use some extra time. And to spend three straight hours in church, when we could be accomplishing something more immediate? May I share my testimony that the blessings come from honoring God on His day. Most every year I am faced with the temptation to spend at least one Sunday at work during tax season. The little devils are convincing that I won't be able to meet the April 15th deadline unless I put in extra hours on Sunday. But I learned quite a few years ago that he who honors God, God will honor (1 Samuel 2:30). I remember very well a Sunday before the 15th. While coworkers were busily adding, subtracting and calculating refunds, I spent the day (in faith) watching General Conference. I held on to the promise found in Isaiah, hoping that God would perform a miracle on my behalf. The following week as we faced the deadline, clients came forward asking for extensions; coworkers asked if they could help; I was able to get more done in less time. I know that Heavenly Father blessed me to do what I needed to do because I obeyed in faith.

Games: There are many good things we can do on the Sabbath. Unscramble the words to determine proper activities for the day. (I hope I didn't leave out important vowels or consonants... I will give you the answers in the next blog...remind me).

ttedan cchruh eemtgnis
erda hte pstruciser
siivt fymali
slinte ot dogo suicm
ymflai styohir
mlafiy mohe negnive
wtrie tteerls
pferrom hcurch cisvree
sert
uojanrls
ymflai cncloui

Refreshments: No Bake Cookies
2 cups sugar
1 cube butter
1/2 cup cocoa
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup peanut butter
3 cups quick cooking oats
1/2 cup coconut
1/2 cup milk

Step 1: Mix sugar, milk and butter in a saucepan and bring to a boil.
Step 2: Remove from heat and add vanilla, cocoa, and peanut butter. Mix well.
Step 3: Add oats and coconut, and stir until completely combined.
Step 4: Drop by spoonfuls onto waxed paper and let cool.

Closing prayer:...Gather your family around you tonight. After you say "amen" give them loves and kisses from me.

Fumbles and Foibles

If you are a regular follower of my blog, you may have noticed I missed the weekly publishing deadline. The last few days have been somewhat of a struggle at work and my soul has longed to be with Alexander in Australia (...and his no-good, horrible, very bad day!) But life could be worse. My bet is there were a few football players who have not had the best of weeks either.

I admit I didn't pay much attention to the Super Bowl hype this year. I barely knew who the opposing teams were and saw only five minutes of the game. But in those five minutes, I did see the "interception" that some thought lost the game for the Colts. In the weeks leading up to the game, everyone believed Indianapolis was a sure bet. No one could beat Peyton Manning! And then he throws the ball to the other team. Although, was it really his fault? Of course not. But it reminded me of the Brett Favre interception a few weeks earlier that kept Minnesota out of Super Bowl contention. Even the greatest of players would like to push the rewind button and do it over again.

We are all human. We make mistakes constantly. Some are worth a few million dollars accompanied with Super Bowl fame and even a trip to Disneyland. Others are insignificant but cause us a lot of personal embarrassment.

Several years ago I was asked to speak in Sacrament Meeting. I got there a few minutes early to be reverent. As I was sitting on the stand, I looked down and noticed I had on two different kinds of shoes. They were basically the same style, but definitely from different pairs. I was embarrassed and tried to keep my feet under my chair the best I could and hoped the bishopric wouldn't notice as I stood to speak. Dumb mistake, but not the end of the world. In fact, I laughed about it this week in remembering...you see, I almost did it again.

I was late in getting ready for work. Before leaving the house I ran to the closet in the dark and slipped my feet into what I thought was the only pair of dress shoes on the floor. As I walked away, I felt a slight limp, like one leg was shorter than the other. I turned on the light and sure enough, two different shoes.

Human foibles. They can be quite entertaining at times. I've got to learn that my life isn't over if I trip over the door mat going into church and lay splat on the floor. (No, that hasn't happened...but now that I write it, it will!) Or another example. Last Sunday night we had our last choir practice for Stake Conference. I was just about to sing a really good high note, but hesitated a nano second. (The choir angels must have had their hand over my mouth). It's a good thing I waited because no one else sang. Dead silence. I would have been the only one singing and that would have been the end of my singing career.

We need to give each other some slack. If the paperboy misses the porch, the man pulls out in front of you on Riverdale Road, the Sacrament prayer needs to be repeated, the Bishop rambles on and on, the Utah Jazz have an off night, the checker rings up your Fruit Loops twice...do I get upset? Well, I do. But I am working on being much more tolerant with others and myself. And that's maybe the hardest, to allow ourselves a fumble once in awhile.

It would be a pretty dull world if we were all perfect. (Now don't get me wrong. That is our ultimate goal.) But in the daily routine of oopses, please forgive me if I call you Cindy instead of Ethel, or if I snore during your lecture presentation...or if I accidentally forget to release the volume pedal for the sacrament hymn. It's all in being human.

Welcome: Chloe Grace

Today I would like to pay tribute to CFO's, RN's, and MBA's. But I am not talking about accountants, doctors and attorneys. I'm talking about a large group of people who have earned these titles, but have never printed their names on business cards. It's a special group of women called "mothers".

Several weeks ago I was asked to share some of my cancer experiences and perspective on adversity with the Young Women in our ward at their New Beginnings. That night they re-introduced the Personal Progress program. I loved their new booklets and the concept of setting goals, so I asked Sis. Bryan if I could participate. She readily agreed. I decided to work on "divine nature" first. One of the projects was to read several Conference talks on the role of women. Randomly I selected Sis. Beck's talk from April 2004. She began by describing her own mother, who during her single years, "devoted her life to progress". When the time came for marriage and children, "...all the knowledge she had acquired, all her natural abilities and gifts, all her skills were channeled into an organization that had no earthly bounds." (Ensign, May 2004). The word "organization" caught my attention. We give a lot of respect and honor to the huge corporations of the world: IBM, General Motors, Microsoft, and Nike. But by far, the greatest organization, regardless of size, is the family. And a co-owner of that organization is mother.

She has a PhD (Physical Health Director): Not only does she provide for our physical needs by being chef and tailor, but she is the physician and registered nurse for our wounded elbows and knees. She is the fitness trainer joining in jump rope or roller skating in the park. She may be our fashion consultant and hairdresser, or a psychologist.

She is a CFP (Chief Family Planner): Mothers are the alarm clocks in the morning and the bedtime storytellers at night. She coordinates her role as chauffeur and activities chairman. As she rules over the Board of Directors (the children) she plans Family Home Evenings; rotates the chore chart; juggles the dance lessons, Cub Scout derbies, visiting teaching, ward service project, Back to School Night and the yard work. Her "to do" list is much more extensive than Bill Gates!

She is a CPA (Caring Personal Advisor): Her qualification has come from being a two year old, a twelve year old, an eighteen year old, a new bride and a new mother herself. Plus she is blessed with added inspiration that comes as a gift from God. She came equipped with a padded shoulder to cry on, two listening pierced ears, a lip-glossed mouth speaking wisdom, a comfy lap to sit on, and arms to hold you safe.

She is an MD (Master of the Dictionary): If she doesn't know why caterpillars have six dozen legs, she either makes up an answer or goes to Google to find out. A woman of much knowledge, she can solve algebra equations, double check the spelling words, create a universe from paper mache, and give piano lessons. Down through the ages, we haven't sent our toddlers to walking school, or the speaking academy, or the "wave bye-bye" university. That's all learned at home.

She is an ATTY (A Testifying Teacher of Youth): Like the stripling warriors of the Book of Mormon, we know because we know our mothers know...

The idea of motherhood was reinforced on January 20th as we welcomed our newest little arrival, Chloe Grace Willoughby. What a doll! I wonder what she was doing on January 19th? What last minute preparations and advice was she being given in the spirit world...and by whom? Did she look down on her soon-to-be family and say, "No, please, don't send me there. The Singleton-Willoughby combo is a little too much for me!" Or has she been observing us for years and jumped for joy at the chance to be a part of our family? She must have known her father would give her piggy back rides. She must have known her mother would sing to her. She must have known her big brother would teach her to slam dunk. After seeing Chloe Grace this week, we are again reminded of the awesome responsibility, but eternal blessing, that comes with nurturing an innocent Child of God.

I am not Chloe's mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, sister or even aunt. I am about as "extended" as they come in this family. I guess officially, I am a great-aunt (or a GREAT!!!!! Aunt). I hope someday she will realize the love I have for her, because everyone can "mother" at times. I know I have been nurtured by great women this past year: my own mother, my sisters, my nieces, my aunts, my neighbors, my friends, my angel grandmothers.

The title "mother" is not appointed by the Chairman of the Board (unless you consider Heavenly Father). It's not earned by study at the university. It's not even just for those who have spent time in the hospital delivery room. It's an honor bestowed on anyone who's developed a "mother's heart".

"There is no limit to what a woman with a mother heart can accomplish. Righteous women have changed the course of history and will continue to do so, and their influence will spread and grow exponentially throughout the eternities." (Sis. Julie Beck, Ensign, May 2004). Won't Hayley be proud when Chloe Grace becomes president of the United States...or even more so, a wonderful mother herself.

If I Only Had A Brain

I'm shocked that no one in our family included The Flaming Lips' CD on their Christmas list! Never heard of them? One song they have recorded may sound a little familiar: If I Only Had a Brain. That's right, the song from The Wizard of Oz. The song is part of the soundtrack for the video game Stubbs the Zombie. Really...I read it somewhere. I don't know what, who, where, when or especially the why in this bit of trivia.

After reading last week's Grace Notes, some of you expressed concern about my belief in "kicking the bucket". While I admit a part of me has been very anxious, my fear of leaving you was not my intent in writing. I was trying to convince myself that in spite of the worry over lab results, goals can still be achieved. Nor should I postpone dreaming just because the IRS believes they rule the world! Here's this week's message from the October 2008 Conference by Pres. Uchtdorf. "Hope...is like the beam of sunlight rising up and above the horizon of our present circumstances. It pierces the darkness with a brilliant dawn. It encourages and inspires us to place our trust in the loving care of an eternal Heavenly Father, who has prepared a way for those who seek for eternal truth in a world of relativism, confusion, and of fear." (Ensign, November 2008, page 22).

However, to be truthful, in my anxiousness last week, I did place a call to Dr. Ingersoll. I thought it might be helpful to get a second opinion on the tumor marker levels. She explained that it was too early to panic and saw no need for concern at this point in time. In a somewhat stern, yet tender manner, she advised to "start thinking with the right side of my brain." (Actually, Dr. Ingersoll is one of the kindest, most thoughtful and careful physicians I've had to deal with. In her own compassionate way, she was helping me deal with my fears. Thank you, Dr. Ingersoll!).

I was totally clueless as to what she meant by her instructions. I have a hard time just using 5% of my entire brain, let alone trying to maximize one side or the other! But, her suggestion sounded positive, so I did a little research. We love the "lefties" in our family. They have lived a hard life. For years they have had to deal with right handed scissors, right handed ironing boards and right handed desks in school. We drive on the right side of the road (but on the left side of the car...why?) We raise our right hand to promise to tell the whole truth and nothing but. We don't wear CTL rings! (I'll let you think about that one.) If we're running late, we explain we'll be right home. The tax returns I prepare have to be right or the IRS won't be happy. Some of us dream of Mr. Right. Even the scriptures suggest we might want to live in such a way as to be found on the right hand of God. So the right side of our brains must have special significance.

According to a Google site, here are just a few characteristics of right-brained people.

• Prefer rock music
• Prefer visual instructions with examples
• Good at sports and art
• Cat lovers
• Enjoy clowning around
• Likes to read fantasy and mystery stories
• Good at geometry
• Occasionally absent minded
• Thinks better when lying down
• Very spontaneous and unpredictable
• Dreamer and philosopher

Now, who put that list together? I don't believe it...nope, not a word. If it was true, left brain people must love Gregorian Chant music and migratory birds; is lousy at telling jokes; likes to read the encyclopedia; their favorite school subject is library study hall...basically leads a dull life. Okay, that is believable, because is sounds very much like me. Scientists and psychologists agree that all healthy human beings use both sides of their brain to function in the real world. We need a little left and we need a little right to keep balanced.

The Wizard of Oz is a classic movie. It provides an insightful lesson on human characteristics and possibilities. How could you NOT fall in love with the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and especially the Lion? But when I was a little girl, I didn't like to watch the movie. The wicked witch of the West scared me. I still cringe when I visualize her melting away. So even to this day, I refrain from viewing the movie when it replays on television. Wait a minute! Maybe that's the problem Dr. Ingersoll saw in me. Why let the fear of the melting witch ruin the journey along the Yellow Brick Road? Why let one side of my feeling and thinking (the left side of logic and anxiousness) hinder me from feeling and thinking something better (the right side of imagination and hope)?

At first the Scarecrow didn't realize he had a brain. Yet he arrived at the best solutions facing the quartet of travelers on their journey. He must have been using the left side of his "straw" matter in making those decisions. But the right side was used in his memorable song:

I could wile away the hours, Conferrin' with the flowers, Consultin' with the rain;

And my head I'd be scratchin', while my thoughts were busy hatchin', If I only had a brain.

I would not be just a nuffin', my head all full of stuffin', my heart all full of pain;

I would dance and be merry, Life would be a ding-a derry, If I only had a brain.

God gave us two sides, one to answer the perplexing equations of the universe and another side to confer with flowers and rain; a brain that instructs our feet to dance, our lips to sing, and our heart to make life ding-a-derry. That's what Dr. Ingersoll meant!

Don't Worry...

Last week as I was eating supper, I turned on the television for company. The viewing options were limited. I chose an episode of Wheel of Fortune. One contestant explained his appearance on the show was a result of his "bucket list" ( a list of things he wanted to do before he kicked the bucket). Unfortunately, he lost the game, but at least he had the satisfaction of a goal accomplished. It reminded me that several years ago I started my own bucket list. I searched for the scraps of paper I wrote on and want to share some ideas with you.

• Take art lessons


• Enter something in the Weber County Fair (...done that!)


• Travel to Tahiti, Mount Rushmore and Heanor, England


• Participate in walk/runs for charity


• Invest $500,000 towards retirement (might as well aim high)


• Open and operate a music store or studio


• Go back to school


• Visit some South America ruins


• Attend a session in the Nauvoo Temple


• Hike Diamond Head


• Sing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir


• Install a swimming pool in the backyard


• Volunteer as a Girls Scout leader


• Take a hot air balloon ride


• Shake the hand of the prophet


• Find "Sarah" (as in...Sarah Singleton, born 1776)


• Be a grandmother

This week's conference talk is Elder L. Tom Perry's found on page 7 of the November 2008 Ensign. "We can't predict all the struggles and storms in life, not even the ones just around the next corner, but as persons of faith and hope, we know beyond the shadow of any doubt that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true and the best is yet to come." Making a bucket list seems to indicate we believe such a principle. But...

No offense, but I think the most obnoxious song ever written and recorded is Don't Worry, Be Happy. Those lyrics are so annoying to those of us who have a lifetime membership in the Pessimistic Club. I am an expert in allowing fear to replace faith and worry to crowd out the happiness that is to be found in today and tomorrow.

Last Friday I had a three month checkup. The doctor pronounced my heart and lungs healthy. That is positive. It was suggested the pain in my shoulder was probably some sort of "...itis", i.e. arthritis or bursitis, not cancer related. That was positive. However, one of the lab tests measures protein levels in the blood and is used to see if cancer may be recurring. An acceptable level is between 0 and 40. After chemo and radiation last year, my baseline number was 26. In October, my level was 28. On Friday, the level had raised to 36. I thought to myself, if the trend continues, by my next three-month checkup, it will exceed the upper 40 limit. Okay, I'm starting to panic here.

As I have tried to calm down the last few days, I realize I have two choices. I could worry for three months about something beyond my control. Or, I could put the data in storage and start working on my list. Why waste 90 days of precious life worrying when I could be doing so much more...productively. But there is another problem. It is tax season. I really don't have time to fly to Brazil this time of year. As an alternative, I have decided to revise, simplify, and downsize the bucket to make it a "sand pail" size. It will be so much more fun than worrying.

• Instead of taking art lessons, I will do the connect-the-dot puzzle in my newly acquired Friend magazine.


• I'll try to walk around the Newgate Mall during lunch hours and at least think charitable thoughts.


• I won't have time to spend money, so I will put $10 extra toward my half million retirement fund. Only $499,990 to go!


• I have several Mo Tab CDs. I'll sing along with them as I drive to work each morning.


• Once a week, I will wear my swimming suit in the bathtub.


• I can visualize the Land of Nephi as I read my verses from the Book of Mormon.

During the next three months I will use the motto: "Don't let your worries get the best of you. Remember, Moses started out as a basket case." Oh, and one more revision to my list. Attending Primary is a lot like being a Grandmother. You play games, read stories and sing songs for an hour or two. Then you send them home for their mothers to deal with for the week. One more crossed off the list!

Creation 101

If you went to church last week you know we are studying the Old Testament this year. Of course, "...in the beginning" was the creation. As I read and reread the account in Genesis, I find I have many questions. Do mosquito brains feel pain as they are flattened to your skin? How do carrots know the orange grows down and the green grows up? What do cows think about as they graze in the meadow all day? How many worlds are there and is my eternal companion living on planet #649 right now?

Another question might be, was it extremely difficult for God to create everything? Or was it a fun time? Maybe both? Nothing is impossible with God. And aren't we grateful He got gravity right? I've attempted to make cookies before. Rolling that dough into a perfect round ball isn't easy. I turn away for a microsecond only to find that ball I tried so hard to shape has "splattened" all over the cookie sheet. I hope gravity holds us together just a little bit longer than my chocolate chip cookie dough.

And then there was Adam. The scriptures tell us the beasts of the field and the fowl of the air came to Adam to see what he would call them. Wouldn't that be an entertaining assignment? Here comes a very strange creature waddling towards you. You think it looks like a "scruntchnestodip". But God, overhearing you, kindly suggests that maybe "puppy" would be a better name.

For this edition of Grace Notes, I have returned to commenting on the October 2008 General Conference. The idea of creation reminds me of Pres. Uchtdorf's message to the sisters. He advised one way to experience happiness here on earth is to utilize our divine attribute of "creating". "The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before." (Ensign, November 2008, page 117).

Just this morning as I was trying to create energy to roll out of bed, I stretched my legs, my arms, my whole body. As I reached in a long stretch, my hands automatically made shadow puppets on the ceiling. For a few seconds, I experimented in making dogs, fish, strange animals...and once I thought my shadow puppet looked just like Lamb Chop. Silly, I know. But it was a fun way to start the morning.

This idea of creating is what brought on the project Grace Notes in the first place. I also set a goal to crochet an afghan. The goal was met. I not only made an object, but in donating it to Carly to use in the Festival of Trees, money was generated and maybe warmth was created for someone using it this winter. I love to create music, not just through the piano, but by voice, or by switching on the stereo, turning up the volume to the radio, or inserting a CD. I create peace as I clean my home. I create order when I mow the lawn. I create a bond when I visit with a friend. We are creating all the time.

But my favorite is creating memories. Just for fun on some Sunday afternoon, take a notebook and start listing good memories...just a keyword or a phrase. After an hour or two, take a break and give your hand a rest. Then you can count how many more Sundays it would take to complete your list! A year's worth of Sundays? A whole lifetime?

It took God six days to create all of this for us. Whether it was literally six days or six thousand years doesn't matter. It took patience to see the process to the end. With each phase He pronounced it "good". In fact, after He created us, He called us "very good." I know I have experience in creating a mess, creating a problem, or even creating distractions. So I've got to remember to use my God given desire for good purposes.

Finally, we are just interns here in mortality, learning to be like Father. If I am a good girl, I will be allowed to create worlds of my own someday. I was imagining how I might create snowflakes. I would probably be tempted to change the chemistry and make them all different colors. Wouldn't that be a sight? Why didn't God use some imagination for snowflakes; purple, red, gold, green, blue and orange all coming down at once? But after some consideration, I admit God's wisdom. When all those snowflakes start to melt, what a messy, mucky brown color they would make puddled together. Not a pretty sight. And the inspiring orange autumn, the exciting green spring, and the pleasant yellow summer would pale in comparison to the gumball effect of that first snowfall. I guess white is the perfect color for winter and I still have a lot to learn as I continue to do my homework in Creation 101.

Hurray for 2009

Happy New Year! I was reading just this morning in the Standard Examiner of their top ten news stories of 2009. Of the ten, I think only one was positive. For millions of people 2009 was a year to forget. In fact, many feel the same about the entire decade. Our family was no exception in facing trials and hard times. But, do you realize how blessed we have been? To confirm this statement, I would like to list the top ten reasons why 2009 was a fan-tabulous year for the Singleton family. (Disclaimer: these are not in any particular order...and please, don't be offended if I don't mention everyone by name.)

1. Our family added and multiplied. We didn't divide or subtract. The year began with McKean willingly (maybe even joyously) coming to our family. Cooper legally became a member, even though he had been in our hearts for months. We added Alicia midway through the year. And by the end of the year, Cooper was anxiously awaiting the arrival of his little sister...Okay, he has no clue that he will be sharing attention, but his parents are anxiously awaiting Cloe's arrival.

2. Sure, there were serious health issues to face. Stairs proved very hazardous for Kathleen and Linda. Grandpa endured months of treatments and doctors' visits. I continued therapy. Two broken arms healed: one pink and one blue. Lauren recovered well from surgery. Car accident victims mended. Everyone had their turn at the familiar, yet unpleasant, human pains and sicknesses. We are still together for another year.

3. Our family was no exception to hard economic times. It is scary to have responsibility to feed a family while being in a precarious employment situation. Some of you had to take on a second job to make ends meet. You are great inspiring examples of hard work and integrity. Rob endured in patience and faith until an opportunity came along (albeit in Moab!) David's teaching position was spared. Jes found advancement. Allen's job was retained and they found a beautiful home closer to Salt Lake to ease the burden of commuting. Ilene realized retirement was quite pleasant. Bottom line: we struggled, but we're okay.

4. When you are young, each additional birthday is exciting. Tyler and Jackson chose baptism this year. Nathan was ordained a Deacon and Ashley advanced into Young Womens. We've got a wide range of CTRs and other Primary descriptions. "Sunrise, sunset...when did they grow to be so tall?"

5. We can communicate with each other. There were some doubts, even anxiousness that some little members didn't have much to say. Some therapy, sign language instruction, and patience allowed Lilly, Bennett and Tate to progress at their own pace. We know there will come a time when they will talk incessantly (age 4-8) and then they will revert back to not talking (age 12-16), and who knows after that.

6. We saw the world! Scott and Alicia's trip was the most romantic and exotic...their honeymoon to Ireland. What a thrill! There were trips to Seattle, New York, Australia, Yellowstone, Chicago, Alaska, Canada, California, South Carolina, Ohio, Colorado, Missouri, New Jersey, Jackson Hole, Orlando, Wendover, Las Vegas, Alabama...(Note, the majority of these places were visited by one person: Nate).

7. We took advantage of opportunities: The adult ladies ran races. The younger ladies danced. The older men and the younger men went on campouts and raced in derbies. Too numerous to count were the piano recitals and concerts. Some conquered gymnastic moves, others excelled and even sold art. A few took advantage of additional schooling. There were spelling bees, Reflection contests, basketball...baseball...soccer games, chess tournaments, leadership conferences, talks in Primary, new church callings, singing events. The list could go on and on. We are more talented, skilled, smarter...and tired than we were a year ago.

8. Old traditions were renewed and new traditions were started. Most memorable was the flag raising ceremony on Memorial Day. I was so proud of the family for being reverent and respectful. I was so proud of our family scout leaders and cubs for their proficiency in handling that ceremony. Each year this tradition will grow bigger and better. Our family became so large this year that we needed to alter the location of our Christmas party. The accommodations were great. So even tweaking the "old" brought a good "new" tradition.

9. Rob was inducted into the Davis High Track and Field Hall of Fame. He was not the only hero of 2009. Every mother and father in our family deserves their names on the Hall of Fame board. (And sometimes I bet you feel you are running a marathon, or the 100 yard dash...or jumping high hurdles). You are great parents who love, teach, honor and take care of your families. That's the most important achievement of the year...and the eternities.

10. We loved each other. What more can I say!

So as you reflect on 2009, there will undoubtedly be some memories of heartaches, fears, anxious moments and times you would just as soon forget. Go ahead, I think we have permission to forget those. But do not forget reason number ten. This past Christmas was a very emotional reminder to me that we stick together in good times and in bad. We are here for each other. Thank you for reminding me in 2009 what this life is all about!