Thanksgiving Homework

I am a big believer in never asking others to do something you won't do yourself. And yes, I am a mean speech therapist and give homework over school breaks. This week's ended with “Would you like to have attended the 1621 Thanksgiving feast? Why or why not?”

I'm going to have to go with NO, I would not like to have been at the first Thanksgiving in 1621. I'm sure they enjoyed their food all the more for having starved the year before, but I would rather just skip lunch and dig into dinner. Their food choices hold appeal in any era: pumpkin pie, turkey, and their new-fangled vegetable-corn. But since I am too lazy to roll pie crust, I would probably have little success with cooking over a fire.  Plus, I don't think they had perfected the art of chocolate cheesecake yet, and I would be sad to miss that.

The Pilgrims also had the right idea of gathering friends and family in Thankfulness. This year, the family was moving around a lot, but we managed to see most of them. Lindsey and fam came to CA from AZ, Rob and Mark's families traveled to Utah, Alan came up from Provo to hang out in Ogden.  I never manage to be thankful for the long drive through Nevada, but I am always glad to see my family and extended family!  And though it was a bit chilly, it was not the bitter, killing cold of an unsheltered 1620 winter.  I am grateful for warm houses and a California climate.

The pilgrims and Wampanoag celebrated for 3 days.  Well, THAT I can appreciate.  I celebrated on day 1 with food and family, day 2 with food and shopping, and day 3 with two temples, food, and 100s of crazy running Santas!  It was such a funny sight to see Ogden's Washington Avenue completely filled with a sea of bobbing Santa hats!

So, I'm glad I wasn't at that first Thanksgiving.  But I sure am glad they had it, so I have something to be grateful for now!

Tapping history 5 minutes at a time.

In March of 1896, a brave young man (well, he was 32, which I still consider young) named R. M. Anderson set sail from Hawaii for San Francisco, where he intended to get a train to Sacramento and make the world a better place by designing something.  Not sure what, exactly, and especially not sure what designing would be better done in Sacramento than in Honolulu, but that was his dream.  He was originally from England, and fortunately he learned to read and write English there.  He liked to travel (a definite plus) and had no family to speak of.  He was in possession of a whopping $60 (minimum to enter the country was $30), received a clean bill of health, and apparently had good manners as he had not previously been in prison or a polygamist.  Welcome to the USA, Mr. Anderson, you fine specimen.

Now, granted I like to know about single guys in the Sacramento/ San Francisco area, but this one is a century too old to come to my Halloween party.  So how did I manage to run into him this weekend? Well, it started with this picture: ship.

As part of a monumental effort to make worldwide records searchable and available online, the family history program sponsored by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is recruiting volunteers to transcribe digital images.  It's called indexing.  Through this program, searchers now have access to millions of records from all over the world to help them find more information about their ancestry.   I recently indexed my 100th batch, and Mr. Anderson is part of the party.

I have long suspected that one day my life will be reduced to a pile of paperwork and a string of Facebook status updates.  In the absence of Facebook details, here are tiny paperwork snapshots of other peoples' lives:  parish records, tax statements (death and taxes- certain in any age), census sheets, draft cards, ship's manifests, marriage certificates, Civil war pay registers.  The records are in dozens of languages from all over the world.  If you would like to look for an ancestor, go for it here.  If you would like to contribute to the history of the world, please please do!  Indexing is easy (except for the crazy old fashioned writing) and requires a minimal time commitment (5 minutes will get a name or two done). It's like a mini-service project, except you have to provide your own Costco muffins.

As for Mr. Anderson, his trail disappears in San Francisco.  Maybe you will index the record that tells the rest of the story!  In the meantime, I'm still on the lookout for non-polygamous NorCal single guys with a little money and  the ability to read and write English.... ;)

Enlightening Weekend

The weekend started off poorly.  I went to work feeling a little tired and queasy and with a few urgent things undone.  I considered sneaking home for a nap, but it was not to be.   :-/

Things started looking up when I picked up the lovely Angela Tingey and we headed for the Computer History Museum of Mountain View, CA.  Could there be a nerdier attraction?  (Well, besides me wearing my glasses.) Although I noted the display of "the first 2000 years of computing," starting with the abacus and ending with my cell phone, the real draw was being with the 600 young professionals attending the Silicon Valley Education Conference.  

This was a spiritual singles event, with uplifting and inspired speakers illuminating truths we need to hear. Of course, there was a healthy dose of lighthearted fun, including Bollywood dancing, balloon animal making, frushi rolling, practical joking, extensive socializing, and restaurant exploring.  :-)

An extra bright spot was that we stayed with my former roommate and conference buddy, Virginia, who is still supporting my single adventures by expanding my home base into the Bay Area.  Yay!

Sunday- the brightest day of all.  The speaker in church was Sister Julie B. Beck, the general Relief Society president (worldwide church women's organization).  Also making an appearance was the mysterious Brother Beck, who is a charmer and a supporter of women everywhere by supporting his woman anywhere.  She spoke of covenants and families to a group that hopes against reason for such opportunities.  She told the story of Christ walking on the water, watching his apostles toiling all night before coming to them in the early morning of the 4th watch.  "Our Lord is a fourth watch God.   There is something about toiling that builds our muscles, builds our faith."  Collectively and individually we toil, against the contrary winds of the adversary, to the very limits of our faith and strength, feeling perhaps that we are not making progress, only to look up suddenly to find that the Savior is there and miraculously closing the distance.  Beautiful.

The day ended on a high note when a new friend invited us to stay for a concert at the Oakland Temple's performance center.  Jenny Oaks Baker, the virtuoso violinist, delighted us with her versions of Disney classics, complete with a very poofy princess dress.  Angie was surprised to run into her brother's family, we made more new friends, the music was gorgeous, and it was the perfect close to a brilliant weekend.

Then why is the post not ending?  Is it possible a day could get any better than this?  Well, there is this small thing:

When I finally dragged into my place late at night, someone had clearly been in the house.  Small things were out of place, windows were open, but nothing was missing.  Confused, I went to investigate.  I opened a door but realized it led to a bathroom I don't have. The mirror says "Merry Christmas." Now I'm dreaming bathrooms?  Clearly the lack of sleep is getting to me.  I decide to put my dream self back to bed so my real self can get up in the morning. I know it can't be Christmas.  I close the door.  I think, hey, I really like that bathroom, I wonder if it would still be there if I open the door again.  It is.  I flip the lights- a real light switch.  I think, I used to have an ugly bathroom, about this size, and behind this door...I sit down on the floor and cry in absolute amazement.  The bathroom is real.  My dad, mom, brother, and sister-in-law had somehow managed, in less than 2 days, to paint, replace the floor, put in a new sink and vanity, upgrade the lighting and shower, fix a door, hang a mirror and cupboard, and decorate.  It is hardly recognizable, and it is gorgeous.  Remarkably, it is almost exactly what I was hoping to do someday.  It is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me.  Forget hearts- construction is the new sign of love, and I am basking in the glow of my restroom.

The Catch Up quiz show!

Didja miss me? Afraid Hi-d Lite went into hiding? I haven't been in hiding, just I haven't been sitting still long enough to blog. To make it up to you, dear readers, here is the first ever Hi-D Lite quiz show!

Heidi’s summer Blast!

View more presentations from Heidebeck

Post your score in the comments!

Adieu, Annie!

Some people are just not good at goodbyes.  Annie Thompson, my fun-loving red-headed roommate, is in this group.  Although I know she's had practice saying the words, it just doesn't seem to go so well. Evidence:
- Annie left the Casita once to live in another apartment.  The good-bye didn't stick.  After a year of fabulous friends and excoriating life experience, she came back for another round of being a Casita Chica.
- The day came when Annie was set to move on to new adventures in Utah.  The date was set, the housing arranged, the good-bye talk given.  But lucky for us- the girl didn't go!  At the last minute, she decided to stick around for another year.
After months of working multiple part time jobs and barely making ends meet, Annie was ready to move home to Wenatchee, Washington and save some money for her next big thing- yet to be determined.  Her impending move spurred another round of goodbyes- which are apparently still difficult:
- Her final fling with a friend to San Francisco was marred by rain and missing photos.
- She never made it to her work goodbyes.  On the last day, in almost the last hour, she fell playing a game and twisted her ankle.  What would have been her final work moments were spent in the hospital.
- The hospital incident overlapped the appointed Midtown Stomp swing dancing farewell event.  Although heartbroken that she couldn't twirl, not going was simply out of the question.  Annie- miss a dance? Unthinkable!  Some of the guys picked her up- at the house, to go up the stairs, and to dance on one foot- crutches and all.
- A last chance at a Drive In movie and at the ward's 5k run were cancelled due to rain.
- Church went okay, as far as I know, apart from the hobbling.
- Packing was now an impossible task, so thank goodness for church friends who were willing to throw hard labor in with hard goodbyes.
Finally, with help from pretty much everybody, she embarked for Washington.  Once the goodbyes were done with, the task was easy- her car even made it without any more disasters, which was quite a surprise.
Since goodbyes are clearly not Annie's thing, we will simply say, adieu Annie.  May every move take you closer to your dreams.

DNP- End of the year

Whatever I did bad, good for me!

The last few weeks of school were exhausting and rotten. All my crazy parents drank their crazy juice at the same time. In one difficult case, we sent reports ahead of time, invited the current and future teachers, had been carefully transitioning the child for three months. In the last week of school meeting, the parent suddenly announced, without ever mentioning it before, that she wanted to retain her child. Good test scores, teacher recommendations, peer comparisons, progress on every single goal, and common sense could not dissuade her. Sorry, little dude, I was apparently prepping the wrong party for first grade!

One of the other perplexing parents was upset by something that happened. Neither I nor the other teachers could figure out what she wanted, or even what exactly had set her off. We suspect it may be the fact that her husband has been having an affair for 18 months- can't say I blame him. Finally, she demanded that someone from the district office handle her case from now on. I am allowed to do therapy with the kids but that is it. She will not be satisfied until someone else handles her dozens of emotional, irrational, angry emails and phone calls. I think she intended to punish me for not letting her have her self-centered way, but it was a great reward! Off the case! Whatever I did that was so appalling, I wish I had done it sooner!

I don't know why I had such a hard time with the end of this year. Difficult parents are nothing new. I was just tired and frustrated, although I have supportive administration, kind coworkers, and refused to lose sleep over the mounds of paperwork. I didn't even have to pack either of my rooms. I am embarrassed to admit that I just picked up piles of papers that needed to be sorted and filed, put them in a cabinet, and walked away.

Still, there were some bright spots. One of the girls I have been encouraging through the year as I talked her parent down from a crazy ledge, has shown good progress. She hardly stutters at all and has been ready for dismissal for quite a while. On the last day of school, she came up to me in her shy way and said, “My mom says to tell you thank you.” She followed up the mandatory message with one of her own: “Thanks from me, too. I feel ready for 6^th grade.” Thank you, Lilian. You made my day.

Another warm fuzzy came, as it often does, from looking outside myself. Janelle and I took the time to write sincere and specific thank you notes to almost the entire staff. We attached a chocolate and a pencil, but the sweetest part was appreciating the good that often goes unnoticed. A few people thanked me later, and their genuine smiles make it seem worthwhile. Every once in a while, we remember why we do what we do.

Hi-D Ultra Lite

I've flown plenty- around the world, state to state, CA top to CA bottom, by the seat of my pants. But I have never flown like this before: in a sailplane!

My cute friend Maren and me, squished into the back seat.
The weight limit was no problem, but the narrow seat was not made for people any bigger than us!

The sailplane is a glider- no engine. This particular version is a WWII relic maintained by the onsite mechanic/owner. The instrument panel consists entirely of an altimeter and a knob that looks like the lid of a peanut butter jar. No computer. No switches. No lights. No backing up. No fuss. The controls are all mechanical and obvious. (The brake panels were raised by pulling a wooden knob on an exposed rod that my left leg was resting on.) The preflight safety check consisted of visual examination of the final 3ft of a 70ft towrope, before the runway helper laid down on the tarmac and clipped it to the sailplane. (Apparently the other 67 feet can be taken on faith.) That's it- away we go!

After being towed to 3000 feet, the tow cable is released and we are free. We can see miles of rice paddies, pepper flecks that our pilot says are cows, cars the size of nickels, and a path to the McDonald's in the next town. The ride is not an arcing straight line, like throwing a paper airplane. The pilot has surprisingly good control, gliding in wide and tight turns, steep downward rolls, and stomach-jerking rises on small thermals. The birds are oblivious; there is no noise to alert them until we are literally on their tails and suddenly startle them completely off course. I do the same thing to people in parking lots with my Prius.

The landing is amazing, considering there's no power.  The pilot banks a wide turn, and lands gently in exactly the middle of the runway at precisely the touch down line.  We laugh and pop out of the tiny plane.  The pilot offers a roller coaster ride if we come again. "It burns up altitude," he says, "but its a lot of fun."  There is no need for aerial acrobatics to make the ride fun.  The longer, graceful ride was just right for today's little adventure!

This adventure was brought to you by the delightful Maren Menditto, the Williams Soaring Center, and the number 34.  Oh yeah, and LivingSocial, because awesomeness should always be a good deal.

Fantasy Weekend part II

If Friday was a chance to view a fantasy world, Saturday was a chance to actually be in one.  Ahoy! What could leave me grinnin' on sich a shivery day? That'd be playing pirate, fer sure!

This is the 70' vessel Aldebaran, from the port of Point Richmond.  My friend Bob McNeece is part of the regular crew, and gathered up some friends for a day of sailing on May 14th.  There was plenty of wind to fill our sails, plenty of food to fill our bellies, and plenty of water to quench my recurring need for ocean.  Check out another fantastic adventure!

Fantasy weekend

Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! Grab your tickets for the fantasy version of Hi-D Lite! Here the impossible becomes reality and the mundane becomes fantastic.  Made possible by the myth and magic of Friday the 13th.

The first sign that reality was shifting was the blind date.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I said a date.  As in a single guy brave enough to contact a girl and ask her out, based solely on the suggestion of a mutual friend.  As long as we are stretching the imagination, let's make him a decent, interesting, employed person as well.  I hear your shocked gasps.  Has Hi-D Lite drifted into the realm of pure fiction?  No!  I assure you, it is the truth!

Said person received tickets in exchange for doing some work on the trucks of a traveling show.  Not being a fan of art or theater himself, and not familiar with the odd wording, he had no idea what the show was but asked if I would be interested.  You can bet I was interested.  He was holding tickets to another world: seats for Quidam by Cirque du Soleil!

After dinner, we made our way in his larger-than-life lifted truck to Power Balance Pavillion (which will always be Arco Arena in my heart) and were able to get perfect, front row, unobstructed seats.  Every element of this world of imagination inspired amazement.  People flew, flipped, floated, twisted, danced, rolled, transformed, and disappeared in ways that could only happen in a fantasy.  Jump rope was elevated to an art form, chinese yo-yos were literally taken to new heights, unbelievably flexible bodies performed feats of balance and strength. Even the stage seemed impossibly suspended, along with all notions of reality.

Blog readers can get a little taste of the fantastical here:



Although my date and I didn't have a lot in common, I was delighted by the spectacle and creativity of the show. But is that all?  No, no, there is still weekend left!  Come this way for a free-floating adventure of an entirely different sort!

Mucho Cinco de Mayo

Cinco de Mayo is Mexican for "the Americans need margaritas."  I often ask my Mexican-born students, and they frequently say they never celebrated the day until they moved to the States.  It actually means "5th of May" and honors an improbable Mexican victory in a battle against the French.  But hey, if other Americans are like me, they would rather eat tamales than escargot. I say that's a worthwhile holiday.

So, because my friend asked me to, and because karma encourages me to be a good wingman, we hosted a 5th Fiesta at the Casita.  The mother of one of my students is saving her tamale-making money to take her children to Disneyland.  I'm more than happy to support her endeavor.  Between her work and my guests' contributions, we had a delicious dinner of tamales, rice and beans, salad, and dessert, followed by a loud game of Party Playoff.  Ironically, the two people who signed up for the obvious choices, chips/salsa and drinks, didn't bring their stuff.  And also ironically, the co-host who needed something to invite a boy to, went out with him beforehand and they both almost missed dinner!

Of course, nothing can be simple.  My parents were flying out that day to see my brother Mark's graduation.  They needed me to take them to the airport, and met me at school.  Knowing I would be driving their car home, I dropped my car off on Wednesday at the shop for a minor bumper repair that has been pending for quite a while.  Shortly after I walked home on Wednesday, Annie's car limped in, overheating.  We were both carless on the same day, stuck!  A friend came with coolant and the last minute party supplies- saved! Thursday then turned into Dia Loca: get a ride to work, excessively early; administer STAR tests;  return an unusually high volume of calls to unsatisfied parents; go to an IEP meeting, which thankfully ended on time; meet my parents, drop them at airport; go home and prep for the party; feed people as they trickle in; enjoy friends; clean up; collapse.  Did you notice what was missing?  Oh yah- pick up my own car! I couldn't quite fit it in, so I left it at the shop for an early pickup on Friday.

Gracias, Mexicanos, por compartir su victoria y su comida.  La Casitas disfruita de una fiesta!

Thanks for giving us a reason to party!

Spring Break, slightly after the fact

It's half what you do and half how you tell the story.  -me

Although the doing has been non-stop, the telling has been taking a break.  So let's take a step back and record some of the craziness of the last few weeks.  First stop:  Spring Break!

I've decided that although spring break as a student was a life saver, spring break as a grown up is a sweet treat.

Why yes,  that is Steve Harwell from Smashmouth with his arm around me.
And also my friends Beth and Rich,  who are there to fill in the picture.

Day 1- SMASHMOUTH! My friend Beth is the #1 fan of the 90's pop band. By that, I mean she has followed  the San Jose natives from their very first song, when they played bars and college clubs, and actually was the first person to sign up as a groupie. She has hardly missed a show since then. After a flash of world wide popularity, the boys are back to playing local shows- in this case the Stockton Asparagus Festival. I guess Mike Klooster, the keyboardist, lives like a mile from the port. Maybe it was local courtesy, but they rocked a festival that otherwise screams podunk.  Beth finagled us backstage as the show ended. Apparently this is the bands' normal routine: jump off the stage, drink Gatorade, say hi to Beth, take a picture with Beth, change clothes, sneak out to the getaway vehicles. This time, they said hi to me too! Thanks Beth!

Day 2-4. Sleep in. Read a book. Do projects around the house. Hallelujah.

Day 5-7, plus a stolen 8: Meet my newest niece, Olivia! Although her standard looks range from sad to perplexed, she sure is a cutie. Unfortunately, she lives in North Carolina, which is so far! My parents and I went out to Charlotte, NC, to hang out with Todd and Ashley and see the baby's blessing on Easter Sunday.  The day was sunny and beautiful, just right for Easter bunnies and baby blessings. Olivia even smiled! Charlotte is green and gorgeous, with stately houses set in real yards clustered between churches the size of small colleges.  Apart from the baby, the main highlight was introducing the two families to Wii Just Dance- if having another grandchild didn't make them feel older, a head to head dance competition surely did!  

Too much good stuff!

In the AM/PM of life, there is just too much good stuff.  Here are some recent highlights for your day or night convenience store snacking.

THE MKs come to visit!  March 19, 2011

The little cousins, who are only a few weeks apart.

Mark and Kristen attempted to surprise my parents with a weekend visit.  Surprising my parents is hard, though.  Rob & Ruthie called ahead to reserve the sleeping quarters under false pretenses.  Unfortunately, a horrible delay on i-80 made Mark & Kristen stay in Tahoe overnight.  But we were still so glad to see them!  Everybody had fun playing together, eating, and celebrating Lyddie's birthday.  Thanks to Ruthie for the pictures!

We performed the Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly!

Breathtaking hiking 3/26/11

Following the not-so-hot dance in San Rafael, Saturday brought the supremely worthwhile hiking at Point Reyes.  The forecast said nothing but rain.  We got drenched for about half an hour, but there was plenty of sun to make the day amazing.  Thanks to Jonathan, who played host and again made the good times roll. We came back cold and hungry.  Jen's emphatic response: Sol Food!  It was the weirdest restaurant to ever rate delicious.  First, you have to figure out the Puerto Rican menu.  They are remodeling the dining room, so you order in one place, then walk across the street to a top secret dining room inside an old video store.  Inside, it's very cute and festive. There are only a few tables, so they seat you in any open area and you make friends with the people already there.  Then, they bring your food already in to-go boxes and in no connection to the timing of your order.  Unless they don't.  They didn't bring James his food until we had all finished and the next group had joined us at our table. It's good food if you can get it. Jen ate there twice in two days!

Surprise! 3/31/11

I randomly decided to use up the fruit in the freezer and make a crumble on Thursday night.  Just as it finished baking, look who showed up at my door.  Surprise!  It's my best mate Virjinia from San Jose and her family, who stopped by on their way to General Conference.  We had a good time eating dessert and catching up.  Yay for pitstops at the Casita!

There's still this weekend!

A good-bye party for Julie Wyatt, dancing at MidTown Stomp, General Conference, Michelle Dunnaway's birthday/breakfast/conference, Jane Eyre at the Tower Theater with Bonnie Bair and Laura Lawrence, and a stop at the Tower Cafe for this bit of amazement:

Chocolate mousse covered with ganache and gold leaf

We are ladies of high worth- we have gold in our guts!

Ok, enough browsing the food-on-the-fly section of the convenience store blog. It's late in the PM now, and AM comes too soon.  See you next time on the way to somewhere!

Humility

"It's hard to be humble when you are as great as I am."  -Muhammed Ali

Ok, I'm not that great- and not much of a boaster.  Still, it's hard to be humbled, even when it is needed medicine.

It started on Friday with a meeting called by one of my most difficult parents.  Fortunately, she asked her advocate to represent her instead of arriving herself.  Usually an advocate is just a hired bully, but this particular one is a mediator and strives to be fair.  The outcome of the discussion was that although I am a reasonably good therapist, I am not warm and fuzzy enough and need to 1) triple my communication efforts with this difficult parent, 2) sign my emails with smiley faces.  Seriously??  Oookay.....

Saturday was a good hiking day but a serious social setback.  The guy who recently caught my eye clearly had his attention elsewhere.  It didn't help that apparently I can still get carsick on winding roads... yuck...

Sunday I was all set to have a bad day, upset about parts 1 & 2.  Woe is me, blah, blah.  Every person who spoke in church talked about some serious problem- illness, losing a job, moving, being estranged from family, not going to church for decades.  One person talked about how a priesthood blessing from a home teacher had changed her life when she was going through a hard time.  My home teacher is going through chemotherapy.  So what if one parent and one guy don't like me?  I would be embarrassed to call that a hard time! In fact, it's not even worth getting worked up over.  If I'm home alone, it's because I choose it; if I feel distant from God, it's probably because I haven't checked in for a while. I have lots of family and friends that DO like me (I think.). My difficulties are so small in relation to others, that though they make me cry, I would gladly choose them over any one else's burdens.
So that's it.  Woe does not fit. Humble does.  I am just too blessed to have a bad day!

The Good Old Days

People are always asking about the good old days.  I say, why don't you say the good now days?  ~Robert M. Young  



I am always perplexed by people who remember middle school and high school as the "good old days."  It's not that I don't remember- I remember very well.  I remember being awkward, unsure, and naive. I remember that my social world, my school, my family, and my body all suddenly entered a conspiracy against me.  I remember thinking that I was pretty much a grown up, and wondering why my parents didn't see me that way.  I remember a little of what my teachers were teaching, and that most of what I learned everyday had nothing to do with my classes.  We were all trying to find our way, figure out who we were, fit in, stand out, grow up, get going.  We thought we knew everything, and we were completely clueless.


A bright spot in my 4th through 9th grade years was my friend Heather Sass.  We practiced angst together, discovered music, crushed on boys, butchered German, tied up our families' phones doing homework and parsing the drama of the junior high day.  I used her to get out of my house and my narrow world.  She used me as a sounding board and to get out of boring 4th period.  We were going to travel the world.  She was going to write romance/adventure novels. I was going to be the bold and brave voice of some cause I would figure out in college.  We were approaching awesomeness, we were sure, if we could just make it out of the awfulness of adolescence.


Heather moved to Oregon in our freshman year.  We wrote occasionally (real letters, with stamps- that really dates us!) but lost touch as our lives moved on.  Through the magic of Facebook, we reconnected recently and gave each other tiny email overviews of our divergent lives.  Unexpectedly, she was in Sacramento with her family this weekend.  A gracious God made it rain, so they had both time and a need to be indoors, and opted to spend an afternoon with me.  What a delight, to see what good has come to an old friend!  We have both traveled some and pursued linguistic interests, her in English and German and me as a Speech Language Pathologist.  After an tumultuous career with- of all things- the police department, she has decided to stay home with her two charming children.  She lives in a small town, close to family, and loves it.  Though I don't have the family I anticipated, I enjoy helping a variety of children find their own voices.  Perhaps one day one of them will speak up for an important cause.  God has seen fit to both bless and challenge us, which is exactly as it should be.


These are not the dreams of our junior high days.  These are the good days, and they are now.


This is for you, Jade. Thanks for coming!


Now for any of you who bothered reading this far, here's a little reward! If you post a request, I will share a gem from the thankfully-never-to-be-repeated good old days of spiral perms and embroidered vests, that may make you grateful the good old days are long gone!

Mmmm. 3.14!

We have a Casita tradition of celebrating Pi Day (3.14, or March 14) with PIE!  In spite of the pouring rain and the Monday night, some good friends joined us for some mathematical goodness.  The  family recipe book made an excellent showing:  Annie made her first pecan pie.  In a head-to-head comparison, Kristen's recipe of Key Lime was voted "Better than Marie Calendar's".  Ruthie's signature peanut butter and chocolate pie disappeared first. Not quite as good as a Nebeker contribution,  Martha Stewart's apple and cranberry recipe was voted the "nice try pie."  Friends also brought their favorites, so we had quite the sweet night!
Being a nerd has never been quite so delicious.
For those who missed it, here's a little taste of our Pi Day celebration for you.

almost all the elements for a perfect weekend

Last weekend was awesome.  If I were to distill out the elements for a perfect weekend, it might go like this:

•  Long.  I had a packed weekend, and there was still a Monday to get things done.  I love to thoroughly enjoy a 4-day weekend!

• Good friends- Good people are essential to any run at perfection.  Thanks to Jonathan and Laurie for making this one happen.

• An outdoor adventure- two breathtaking snowshoe outings will fit the bill.  What's a little cold when you get views like this?

Laurie has snowboard model hair.   I just have hat hair.

•  Something new - Because we stayed in Tahoe, we were able to go out for a midnight snowshoe expedition.  I'd never done that before, and now I am a fan!  The full moon on the clean, white snow was so beautiful!  We turned off our headlamps and just enjoyed the night.
• Good food, preferably prepared by someone else.  Due to our friend's generous hospitality, we were well taken care of.
• Church.  I would be nothing without the gospel of Jesus Christ. Since we were at someone else's ward, even church was relaxing. (shh, don't tell my ward I was playing hookey!)

• Relaxation  Staying in the cabin in Tahoe was serene and peaceful, not to mention gorgeous- well, except for the shoveling and the snow throwing.  Nap, book, games, and adventures all fit in nicely.
• Plenty of Oreo Cakesters were involved.



Cadbury Mini Eggs are back in the store!
I don't have to wait for the Easter Bunny to bring me the good stuff.

• Productivity- Got my taxes done.  And, thanks to the ants, mandatory cleanings left the kitchen sparkling.
• satisfaction- the gaping hole in my cabinet finally has new doors.  Bonus- the icemaker in the fridge is also repaired!  
• bargain shopping!  Mostly essentials, but I also got running shoes for $25 because they were in the kids' section.

Not that everything was perfect.  Bad weather forced us to scrap plans for snowshoeing earlier in the day, and meant a lot of friends couldn't come.  Ants invaded my kitchen- twice!- and the shower. I managed to burn the rice and ruin the dinner for someone I was trying to impress.  And there is one huge element still missing in my life.  But overall, it was a brilliant weekend.  This is the kind of weekend satisfaction that makes at least two work weeks bearable.  I vote for a four day weekend every month!  Who's with me??  We could all use some time to just chill.

Jonathan, just chillin' with a sandwich.

That's the way she goes. . .

In other major news of the week, our Plant Diva has returned to the desert.  Amber, who was getting really sick of working in the Sacramento office, has started her Mojave Desert field season and therefore moved to Pasedena.  How cool is a job leading Treasure Hunts?  She's out looking for rare plants, and the even rarer Hot Date.

We sent her off in true Casita style, with plenty of friends dropping by to wish her well, eat ice cream, chat, and, well, dance like crazy.  This time the dancing was assisted by K'nect.  Make no mistake- Annie dances like this no matter what the environment.

Good luck, Amber!  We'll miss you!

The Week of Kings

Late on Monday afternoon, my friend Bonnie texted me with the offer of a free Kings ticket.  I jumped at the chance.  Bonnie works for a non-profit organization that occasionally is gifted unused Kings tix, and apparently there are quite a few going unused, because we had great seats.

The Boys choked but the girls had fun!

The Kings were ahead of the Jazz at the end of the first quarter! And the second!  Things were really looking up.  They were not behind at the end of the third (tied).  neck and neck through the fourth- great ball play- rebounds reappeared- and they lost in the last 2 minutes.  Owwww.

Wait- is that the same game?  Then why are these people smiling?  Why yes, it is.  Unbeknownst to me, BOTH my roommies were also at the game.  They were sitting with the "BYU Alumni" section, which explains why I didn't know about it. Ironically, Toren and Amber are U of U people, and Bonnie is a BYU fanatic.  Fortunately we can all get along- although we still apparently disagree about what team to cheer for.

Bonnie also had tickets for Wednesday's game.  She couldn't go, so she gave her two tickets to me.  I apparently have no spontaneously available friends left, because in spite of my best efforts, I couldn't find anyone to go with me.  There was a time when that would have kept me home, but I had free $50 tickets and nothing else to do.  I'm brave, and my hair was already cute enough to go out- so I bought myself a cupcake and took myself to the game.
Fortunately, one of Bonnie's coworkers had the seats next to me and joined in the cheers and chatter that make basketball fun.
2nd night, same story.  The Kings lost to the Mavericks 100-102.

The best shot of the night was by this guy, Bobby Jovanov.  A beautiful halfcourt swisher won him a CAR!!  maybe we should offer the Kings cars for baskets- or offer Bobby a contract!

Different Valley, Same Fog

Thursday, my schools had their first foggy day schedule in 5 years.  We regularly have patchy fog, or pockets of dense fog, or complete loss of visibility over the river due to fog.  But this was real, thick, Hound of the Baskervilles, White-Christmas-in-Merced fog.  In other words: tule fog.

Tule fog (say Too-lee) is apparently a Central Valley specialty.  It's named for the tule grass that grows in the wetlands, where the fog likes to settle. Yes, we know dense things like to settle in the valley.  Smart fogs are probably the ones that drift over occasionally from the Bay Area and keep moving.

Tule fog and I go way back.  As a kid, we had foggy day schedule 5-10 times a year.  Though the buses were delayed an hour, people who walked were supposed to get there on time.  Is it harder to see a big yellow bus in the fog than a lone kid in a gray jacket?? On a dozen mornings every winter, as I arrived at the baseball field adjacent to my junior high, there would be a solid wall of white where the school should  have been.  Every morning, my hopes were high that the school was invisible not because of the fog, but because it had burned down in the night.  I would make up elaborate stories about how it could have been bombed or relocated or destroyed by an earthquake without my parents noticing three blocks away.  About the time I was ready to pitch my homework in the bushes and celebrate a morning's freedom, an ominous shape would slowly materialize out of the haze.  Or, even worse, a bell would ring out of the whiteness, telling me that not being able to see the school was no excuse for not getting there.

Now, on foggy mornings, I again approach an invisible school, hoping with all my might "maybe, just maybe ...."

The Far Out House

Subtitled:  The Rise and Fall of Rj

It doesn't look like much yet.

On the second day of building, RJ and I and a few others went to a second building project.  There were two problems with this project:  the cement wasn't dry, and there did not appear to be a leader. Jon Larson went back to the first site, Josh was in over his head and left to go translate, Blake got bored and went to use his talents elsewhere, Warren Nelson had not yet shown up.  That left Rj.

Rj modeling his construction wardrobe of Dockers,
polo shirt, and coordinated nail pouch.

Rj is a currently "retired" IT guy whose hobbies include fixing other people's computer problems, constantly declaring his hotness,  and digitally manipulating music to 1) cover pop songs with his brass "quartet" comprised entirely of himself, or 2) overlay songs with similar chord changes but different tempos to make an endless loop, or 3) remove the swear words.  He has mad skills with the organ, trumpet, English grammar, and mental math, but not with manual labor.  His prior experience with Mexico consisted of crossing the border at Nogales 3 times a month for a year, in order to buy cornflakes and apply the scientific method to determine the frequency and consistency of border agents' responses to certain actions.  In all those trips, he never deviated from this purpose for such petty distractions as shopping, speaking Spanish, or sampling the local cuisine.  His prior experience with construction consisted entirely of Day One of this trip.  But Rj is the kind of guy who is not put off by such minor things as societal expectations or lack of credentials.  He stepped in, applied what we had practiced the previous day, and directed the precision building of three excellent walls.  His skills were such that the teenagers started calling him the "admirable admiral," a sure sign that he has arrived.

Getting there

Even Rj cannot control the elements.  Night fell, the cement still wasn't dry. Members of the ward loaded the framed walls on a pickup, plonked a kid on top to hold them down, and drove them to a neighbor's house to keep them safe until morning.  When they brought them back the next day, the wind came with them. Strong, cold wind gusting up to 40 miles per hour across the desert,  blowing gritty sand everywhere.  This served three good purposes:  1) Even the daredevils put on safety glasses 2) super exfoliating sandblast facial 3) we were really motivated to get the walls up and create a windbreak!  The members took pity on our shivering souls and built a fire, which we kept going for the next three days.  The third day, wind was joined by a little snow, just to keep things interesting.  Yay.

Block the wind!

The first 45 minutes of Day 2 were awesome.  Our prebuilt walls went together quickly and it looked like we were making good progress.  Then the wind blew in some setbacks.  One of the walls was built to the wrong specs and had to be completely redone after the OSB was on (not one of RJ's!).  A window hole was in the wrong place, moved, and then found to be the wrong size.  The whole structure blew 1/2 inch off square when we tried to tack on the siding.  When we realized we would have to square it and do it again, Jon Larson said truthfully, "well, that's not the first half a day we've lost today!"  Later, when we were reaching the point of frustration and exhaustion, he grabbed some OSB board that just wouldn't fit on the 2nd story and yelled "I'm about ready to jump off the roof with this!"  Can't say I'd blame him- parasailing  sounds exciting!

We did it!!

In spite of the setbacks and the weather and Rj falling ill and being confined to the car, we wrestled the house together by the end of Friday.  We were only able to put on half the roof and drywall because of the weather, but the rest of it is livable.  They paid a local man to finish what we weren't able to get to, and the ward members will help with stucco and paint, so it will get done soon.

This house is for a nice member of the church, Leticia, who is raising 5 kids by herself.  She works in the tomato factory and does hair and nails on the side. She saved enough money to buy the little plot of land, and was planning to save for the next bazillion years in order  to build on it.  The plot is so far outside the city that water and electricity don't even reach there yet, but they will soon and Leticia's house will be ready for them!  Once she moves in, she will pay the amount she currently pays in rent into a local Perpetual Building Fund until she has paid off her house, and we will use the money to help others in the future.

If, like Leticia, you like the work that we did, please consider making more building possible.  Every member of the volunteer crew pays their own way.  Many of the materials are donated, but the volunteers pay for the rest of the construction costs, which are substantial.  If you are blessed with a warm house, indoor plumbing, electricity, or even a desk job, consider sharing that blessing with someone else.  It's simple and even $10 will help someone's dream come true.  I have seen the good The Starfish Difference does. (The site is a bit rough because it's not corporate, but the group is grassroots at its best.)  I believe in the goodness of people and I believe that small things make a difference.  My small thing is a week of work.  Can your small thing be a donation? Click here to donate to The Starfish Difference and make more stories like this possible.  Under note to seller, put "houses for christmas".  May your life be blessed as mine has been!

<3 *heidi

Mexico peeps

Last year, I came with family and ended up meeting friends.  This year, I came with friends and ended up meeting family! I knew Stuart, Carol, and Blake Smith were coming from Layton, UT with a small crew, but I was surprised when they showed up with people I recognized:

My super cute cousins, Stephanie and Lauren Adamson, and my tall handsome cousin Blake Smith.  The Adamsons are from my mom's side and the Smiths are from my dad's, so I'm the only relative they have in common. The two families are neighbors.  It was a rare treat to get to hang out with them a bit!
Also along for the work were my dad's cousin Ed and his wife Shana, who are almost 70!!  Shana's nearly blind, and Ed's not so speedy, but I'm impressed that they would bother to come out in the cold and work however they can.  My uncle Stuart, the leader of this crew, was so sick he flew down on Tuesday and barely made it through the week.  Still, his crew managed to finish two small houses in only 4 days.

Not that we are all work and no play.  The local church hosted a New Year's Eve dance on Dec 30.  The Americans and Mexicans swapped dance moves, the teenagers flirted it up, and we all managed to have a good time in spite of the bags under our eyes.
Of course, that leaves the Real New Year's Eve for a Roadhouse Fiesta!!  We had a pinata, played boisterous games of Ninja and Step Twister, ran outside at midnight and listened to the celebrations all over the city, and promptly fell asleep at 12:15 am.


And so my year comes full circle, ending exactly as it began.  Was I glad to be home?  Absolutely.  Would I have been anywhere else? Not for the world!

I will not take these things for granted...

The year ended exactly as at began: standing outside a drippy, dirty women's shelter in the freezing cold listening to gunshots, aching for sleep and cut off from family, friends, and technology- and loving it.

I was blessed to be back in Agua Prieta, Mexico between Christmas and New Year's Day.  I say blessed not because I delight in manual labor, or because the weather was nice and the trip pleasant.  Blessed is to appreciate what you have, and to have enough to share with others.  By this measure, this holiday season was one of the most blessed of my life. Come along with me and decide what you must not take for granted. . .

First off, this trip I had both family and friends along for the ride.  I coerced my friends Matt and Rj to come for the week.  Conveniently, Rj lives in Phoenix, allowing Matt and I to fly from our respective Christmases and then hitch a 4-hr ride to our home away from home: The Roadhouse.  Usually it is a women's shelter, but this week it was taken over as home base by 45 Americans.  Cold and stinky showers, pokey bunk beds, dripping ceilings, flaming gas heaters, and all the togetherness any of us could stand. Makes my little condo seem like heaven!

The boys side has fewer drips         The Roadhouse ladies                     A perfect place for a game of Ninja- -or a pinata.

but more snores.                                 know how to cook!

The tamale stand looks so inviting!

What were all these Americans doing?  Well, the Larson crew was huge this year, as apparently Teresa has three sisters that sound exactly like her, each with a brood of kids and a few friends, who all came to help out this year.  So much for the draw of a smaller, more cohesive crew.  But with all those people, we could get a lot done. Most of them came on Dec. 22., and spent Christmas Day building this tamale stand.  They had stored their materials inside the home of the stand's owner.  On arriving at the worksite and finding the house locked, they decided to break in.  When the lady came back and saw the shop that had suddenly appeared, she said "It's like Santa Claus was here!" True- for the right people, it's worth overlooking the breaking and entering!
The tamale stand is for a lady with a couple of kids who makes tamales in the morning, then walks a long way to sell them.  Now she can sell them right in front of her house, allowing her to better support her family.  The crew also subdivided the warehouse where she lives into actual bedrooms, added a shower, and made a little brick walkway between the stand and the house.  She paid us in tamales, which was definitely a good deal!

After we got there on the 26th, we went right to work on what we called "the pallet house."  I'll let the slideshow tell the story.


Like I said- I am blessed!  Did we stop there? Oh no, no, no- here are even more stories!