Funky Kim

I have some issues I need to overcome. First one is finding the charger for my camera and the cord thingy that takes the pictures off the camera and puts them on my computer. I have many things on that camera that need to be shared. This is frustrating.

Second one is I need to update this blog more often. I'm much more comfortable posting on message boards, but my circle of imaginary friends is rapidly expanding to many, many blog writers who don't do message boards. And I'd like to have some way of showing them a peek into my life.

And I have an addiction problem. I'm addicted to craft stuff. Like fabric. And yarn. And the tools used to make those things into cool stuff. Get a load of this wool thread: http://www.etsy.com/shop/handspunthread#

I mean, holy cats! She spins all the thread in her studio! I have an overpowering urge to go visit just to sit in her studio and watch her spin. Bliss.

International Quilt Market in Salt lake City

I made it my goal, once I heard that the International Quilt Market was coming to Salt Lake City, that I would attend. The fact that it is a trade show not open to the public was just a minor stumbling block and in no way deterred me.

First off, I signed up to participate in a meet and great sponsored by Slice Fabrique, which is also on my want to have list. I learned of this gathering through Amy Smart on her cool blog.

Long story shortened, I emailed the people who run the Quilt Market to see if they used volunteers for any menial tasks. They emailed back that, while they do use people, all the slots had been filled and better luck next time. The show set up on Thursday, May 12th. That afternoon I got an email asking me if I was still interested. Hah! I'm in!

I wandered over to the Salt Palace Thursday afternoon to check in and get my credentials. I ran into Kaari Marie from the French General in the hallway. I had met her before in St Louis, so I went on up to her and told her I was excited to maybe be able to see her new line of fabric. We chatted for a bit and went on about our business. I also met Patty Young and her handsome husband, Jon, from Mod Kid Boutique. She designs groovy fabric and cool clothing patterns. And I think her daughters are just too cute!

Saturday at the meet and greet I met Jennifer Paganelli who has some terrific fabric designs as well as a book out full of projects to make for young girls. As I now have a granddaughter, I can use a book like that. She made me promise that I would go to Market early on Sunday and find her booth and buy the book. So I did just that!

I also met Paula Prass and her lovely daughter. We chatted about our grandsons and their ability to name the birds on her latest fabric design. 

I got a little fresh with Vanessa when I thought she was going to fall off the chair she was standing on and grabbed her by the waistband around her backside. Oh well. She might like me one of these days! LOL

I also met Amy and Erin who are putting together a terrific sewing summit this fall.

I had a terrific time working at the Quilt Market today. I saw some really great quilts and met a lot of lovely people. I'm sure I'll link more of them as I sort through the business cards and notes I took.

And never, ever let a little thing like "You're not allowed in" to stop you from going to something if you really want to go. But always try to follow the rules. 

Guardians at the Gate

ValueSpeak
A Weekly Column
By Joseph Walker  <valuespeak@msn.com>

GUARDIANS AT THE GATE

            Somewhere on the other side of the world, a small group of technicians is engaged in a life-or-death struggle.

            This battle is not about self-preservation, as admirable as that might be. By staying to face the radiation and fire at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station following the devastation of last week’s earthquake and subsequent tsunami in Japan, the 50 or so workers may have already condemned themselves to a painfully shortened life span. They knew that going in.

            And yet they stay, working in near-total darkness, pumping seawater onto exposed nuclear fuel in hopes that they can prevent a meltdown that would spew thousands of tons of radioactive material into the air, endangering the health and well-being of millions of people.

            Their task sounds like something out of a sci-fi thriller.  According to The New York Times, “they crawl through labyrinths of equipment in utter darkness pierced only by their flashlights, listening for periodic explosions as hydrogen gas escaping from crippled reactors ignites on contact with air.

            “They breathe through uncomfortable respirators or carry heavy oxygen tanks on their backs. They wear white, full-body jump suits with snug-fitting hoods that provide scant protection from the invisible radiation sleeting through their bodies.”

            Like Oscar said in “Armageddon”: “Scariest environment imaginable. That’s all you gotta say.  Scariest environment imaginable.”

            And yet they stay.

            According to news reports, some of the 50 workers volunteered to remain behind to man the fire pumps with which they are spraying seawater on the exposed fuel. Others were assigned to stay as part of the nuclear facility’s established crisis management procedure.

            “It’s part of the job, part of the training,” an American nuclear power plant operator told the Associated Press. “Nobody makes a secret of the possible dangers involved with working at a place like this. If there’s a problem, you don’t call somebody in to fix it. It’s our problem. We’re the only ones who can fix it. That’s just what we do.”

            And so they stay.

            I don’t know about you, but I’ve never really thought of nuclear power plant workers as “guardians at the gate” – those whose jobs may at any time place them in a position to protect us, perhaps at the peril of their own lives. Truth be told, I haven’t thought about them much at all. My only impressions of nuclear power plants come from scant recollections of Chernobyl and Three-Mile Island, and the fictionalized interpretations of “The China Syndrome” and “The Simpsons.” None of that prepared me for the heroic image that now comes to light as unknown, unseen technicians knowingly put themselves directly in harm’s way in a herculean effort to secure the safety of millions of people they don’t even know.

            It makes me wonder how many others are out there, dutifully performing daily acts of courage and bravery in our behalf – acts that we don’t really appreciate until extraordinary circumstances put them in the spotlight. We’ve spoken before of teachers, police officers, fire fighters and the men and women who serve in our armed forces. These are obviously guardians at the gate. But what about the electricians who climb power poles to restore power in the middle of a raging storm? Or the sewer workers who deal with materials no one else wants to deal with? Or the pilots, engineers and bus drivers who get us where we need to be – almost always safe and sound? In every case they brave risks in our behalf, and are trained to respond to unknown possibilities when they arise. For them, it isn’t a matter of courage – it’s standard operating procedure. They are truly guardians at the gate because they have chosen to stand a post there.

            And because they stay.

Happiness is...

Happiness is a lot of things in my world this Friday:

• A new Comcast DVR. Hopefully all my issues with the other DVR will disappear!
• I reached the end of my work week before I reached the end of my rope!
• A day with Vincent
• Did the grocery shopping last night with help, so it was already crossed off the to do list before I woke up this morning!

Have a terrific day!

Who's to say what the proper way to react is?

I read a wide variety of blogs. I love reading blogs. Gives me little snippets of peaks inside various lives. Every once in a while I will connect with a blog writer and they will become my friends. Most of the time, I just read through my blog reader and comment sporadically.

So it was with some amusement that one of my reads this morning, The 24 Year Age Gap, was an entry about another one of reads, Enjoying the Small Things. And then I commented at a message board I go to about the entries. And it started a discussion that has me thinking.

Yes, Kelle Hampton's blog is about her and her way of seeing the beauty in her world. And Jessica is snarky and funny and full of spunk. And her snarky today got on my nerves a bit, but not enough to take her blog off my reader.

And then I got to thinking about my reactions when I hear bad news. And mine are remarkably like Kelle's. I want to hug my loved ones. And do playful things. And not clean my house. And try to view the bright side of life.

I remember way back to 9/11. The entire nation was busy hugging loved ones and finding God and making things beautiful. Huddling down with what was important to them. 

So it seems that this is a natural response to grief. A natural response to having your world rocked. And it resonates with me and with a lot of people.

And there's always room for snark in my life. But I don't like personal attacks.

My small part in a miracle

Those of you who know me, know this story well. I'm sharing as part of Show Us Your Life at Kelly's Korner.

 

Peanut and Katie, November 2002

 

In March of 2002, one month after I had married my current husband, my 16 year old daughter came to me in tears and told me she was pregnant. To say she was distraught would be an understatement. She also shared that she had told the boy involved and he had immediately dumped her and spread lies about her all over the high school.

In today's world there are three main choices that she had. And none of them are easy, no matter what anyone thinks. She could have an abortion. She could keep the baby. Or she could place the baby for adoption.

An abortion is not the solution 99.99% of the time. It just isn't. It is the solution most full of "what ifs" and some consider it murder.

Keeping the baby is a popular choice amongst teenage girls. You can dress the babies up so cute and all your girlfriends will love hanging out with you and your adorable infant. Of course, this means that school will all but disappear from your life. Or, if you're lucky enough to have a school that has daycare available, you will have to work really, really hard to gain that high school diploma. And college is put into a much harder category. To qualify for welfare, you need to move into your own apartment, away from your parents and the support they can give you.

Placing for adoption. You will give away a very cute baby right as your hormones are swinging this way and that in the postpartum phase. People at school will not understand. You will always worry about your child. If you have a closed adoption you will always hunt for his face in the crowd. And you will hope that his parents remember to send you that yearly picture and update letter. If you have an open adoption, you will come face to face with what you gave up. And you will have uncomfortable questions that will be asked and will need to be answered.

I took Katie to LDS Family Services the week after she told me. The social workers there don't push an adoption agenda. They really just want the girls to be as prepared as they can be for whatever choice they make. All adoptions done thru them are closed adoptions. And abortion is discouraged. Strongly.

Katie joined a birth mom support group that met weekly. Sometimes I could attend the meeting. Sometimes the other parents of the girls hung out in a different room and discussed what we were going through. The girls in Katie's group ended up keeping their babies about 50% of the time and the other 50% of them placed for adoption.

Prayers were always said that they would be able to make the correct choice for their unborn children. And that they would be strong enough to make those choices. 

When Katie was about 3 months pregnant, she made the firm decision to place her baby, that we called Peanut, for adoption. It was really the turning point in her life when she made that decision. She started attending summer school to make up credits for all the times she had skipped school. And when regular school started up in the fall, we moved her to a different high school and she went to that school rather than choosing to go to the young mother's program. She didn't want those girls to pressure her to keep her baby because they had kept theirs. She was firm in her decision. 

Around the beginning of October Katie was finally allowed to choose the parents for her son. The social worker prayerfully chose 5 or 6 different couples from all that were available. The couples had all filled out a biographical worksheet giving boring information about themselves such as age, education level, occupation, stuff like that, without actually identifying them except for their first names or where exactly they lived. And they had written a personal letter to Any Birthmom, telling about themselves and their hopes and dreams and desires. And they all make a scrapbook page with pictures of them and a representation of their lives. I had a friend who did all this and the ulcer that the scrapbook page and letter caused her was epic. She wanted to say the right things and not anything wrong. And the pictures needed to be perfect.

And Katie's social worker only gave the girls she worked with the biographical page and the letter. No pictures. She counselled them to prayerfully choose the parents and she didn't want them to get hung up on looks. And, while my heart hurt for all the angst that went into all of those scrapbook pages, I agreed with no pictures and so did Katie.

Katie took the packet into her bedroom, said a prayer, and read every word on every page. And she said that she immediately knew who God wanted to raise Peanut.

She brought me out only the biographical pages. She didn't want to share the more personal letters. But she wanted to see who I would choose based on those bio pages. I went into my bedroom, a prayer in my heart and on my breath, and proceeded to have the most spiritual experience of my life. The third page in my entire body was covered with goosebumps and an incredible feeling of rightness. I knew who was meant to be Peanut's parents.

When I came out, it was confirmed. Because I had chosen the same couple that Katie chose. When we got the scrapbook page the following week it was interesting to see that Katie and Peanut's mom looked like they could be sisters.

Peanut was born on a Friday in November. We had him until Sunday evening. Almost all of that time was spent in the hospital. Taking pictures and holding him and loving him. Katie took some time alone with him and explained to him who she was and what was going to happen to him and her reasons why she was placing him for adoption. She had also written him a letter that he could read when he was much older explaining why she had chosen to place him for adoption rather than raising him herself.

When she was released around noon on that Sunday, we went home and she did her hair and dressed him in a cute outfit and we headed to the mall to take a formal portrait of them together. She kept one, I kept one and we sent an 8 X 10 for him and his parents.

That evening Katie placed Peanut into his mother's arms. And his mother just sobbed and hugged on Katie. And it was perfect.

Peanut's mom started hanging out at social networking sites and found Katie and they started exchanging emails. We have celebrated Peanut's birthday with him and his parents for the past 8 years. And we've seen him play little league baseball a couple of times. And we met a lot of his big, extended family a couple months ago at his baptism. And this adoption was the right thing. And Heavenly Father guided my daughter in making her choices during this time.

I hope and pray that all couples that feel the great desire to be parents can become parents.  Because the miracle of birth or adoption is just the greatest thing anyone can experience.

Peanut, 2010

Some thoughts now that I'm 48

This has been the birthday that I've been dreading. Not 30, 40, or even 50. Nope. 48 is my black birthday.

It has always been pointed out to me how much alike my mom and I are/were. Lots of things. And she died at 48. My Uncle Rich, who I thought was dreamy and cool and everything an uncle should be, also died at 48. 

So now I'm 48. Am I ready to die? Have I lived enough life? HELL NO!

• I have a terrific husband and we have the goal of making love in all 50 states. We're not even close yet. (sorry kids!)
• I have an awesome grandson who hasn't been to Disney World with me.
• I have a couple of grandkids in waiting who I'm getting to know who I also need to have some adventures with.
• I have a retirement account that I want to spend, not leave to others to spend. That would just be a drag.
• I need to take Dwaine to see Italy. And I need to see Greece while we're over that way.
• There's weight to be lost!
• And there's weight to be gained!
• I have a lot of projects that are in various stages of completion. I'd like to finish them.
• I'd like to go on my first cruise.

This list could go on and on. And I'm pretty sure that both my mom and my uncle had long lists of things that they would have liked to do before their time was over.

So I'm doing my very best to live as much life as I can each day that I breathe. And I hope that you, dear reader, do as well.

Next year, watch out! My birthday week will become my birthday month as I celebrate making it to 49!

A book recommendation

Glenn Beck and Dr. Keith Ablow wrote a book together. The 7 Wonders That Will Change Your Life

Now before you get your knickers in a knot or roll your eyes at the mere mention of Glenn Beck, take a moment and breathe. Then I'll tell you that I read this book over the weekend. And last night I started reading it again, this time slower with a highlighter and pencil in hand.

The book touched me on many, many levels. And I think it will touch anyone who reads it.

The first wonder is Courage. 

"Real courage is like entering a dark room that might be filled with all sorts of dangers but that may also house a great fortune.  It isn't that fear or worry is absent from your heart or mind.  You might well be terrified.  You may only be slightly more willing to go further into that room than to bolt for the door.  Such is the fine line we travel, the thread we climb, when, in the face of the inevitable struggles we all face in life, we move toward the best in ourselves—toward God."

Not what you expect from Glenn Beck, eh? Try this book. I think you'll like it.

They say it's my birthday!

One year I told a friend that I wanted to be skinny and tan for my birthday. Being the true friend that she is, she made it so. Hah!

 

Happiness is...

Happiness is...a birthday spread out over an entire week!