It's A Big Round Schoolhouse

After a bit more time of thinking about it, I have come to the understanding that probably everyone could wonder about themselves if the childish antics of their youth were displayed end-to-end. So, I am choosing to not "despise my youth", but rather to recognize that these things took place over a period of years, some of which were before I was eight years old. It's a loving Heavenly Father who allows us the time to learn before accountability sets in and then continues the process with the gift of the Holy Ghost and repentance thereafter. Still, my resolve remains.

Comeuppance

Blogging memories of childhood with my grandmother has brought me to a place I have never been. Not until the stories showed up on these pages did I realize how I must have tried her patience. I am embarrassed at the self-will, the downright disobedience. How could she tolerate it? It could only have been love.
I truly hope that that name, "little pill", can also come with the reminder that it is often a little pill that relieves someone's pain and suffering, calms a troubled heart, and aids in healing.
Today I resolve to more fully live up to the better side of the name used to describe me as a child.

A Spoonful of Sugar

What is it with kids and "sweet teeth"? They seem to think that EVERYTHING will taste better with sugar in it. Well, I found out by experimenting with sugar in my citrussy tomato soup that this philosophy doesn't always work. But it was so unbelievable to me that I had to try it twice! - The second time, Grandma made me eat it.

And what about the practical joke? Pepper sprinkled onto chocolate cake? When I played it on my friend, she got another piece but when she did it back...

There was the time Richard and I sat at the table for what we determined to be an eternity. Liver is just never good. There is no recipe on earth to fix it, it simply is not for human consumption. So after the rest of the family was retired to the living room to watch television, and comfortably settled in, Richard and I quietly took our plates outside and dumped their contents over the fence. We were SAVED! Or, so we thought. The next morning we had to have a stern talking to because the neighbor told on us; but we still got out of liver.

Grandma asked us one afternoon if we wanted to make "vinegar taffy". We wondered why anyone would want to make such a thing! But she explained to us that this taffy really was a yummy sweet candy and there was only a little vinegar in it. We were willing to go along because we believed our grandmother would never trick us like that. So we went to the store, bought the ingredients and waited for the next day to make this strange "sweet".
We measured, poured and stirred, heated and stirred some more until it was ready. It had to cool for a little while because we were going to pull it and stretch it with our hands. They had to be all buttered up to keep the candy from sticking to them. We pulled it and pulled it till it turned white and then we twisted and braided it. We let it finish cooling and then broke it into bite-sized pieces, and y' know? Grandma was right!

Honeybee Baby

For a while Dad had beehives on the roof of our house on Monterey Boulevard. Yep, right in the heart of The City. He kept them up there so that they would be as out of reach as possible, and when he worked with them he wore protective clothing that made him look like a "moon man".
After a while they swarmed and covered a section of the fence. I'm not sure how long he actually had them after that.
But, I recall Grandma harvesting honey from the honeycomb by warming it over the stove. The wax would melt and rise to the top of the honey, which was left underneath.
One day while the stove was going with honey in the pot, Dad asked us if we wanted to watch a baby bee being born. Richard and I were very excited to witness this event, which took place on the kitchen table under a glass bowl. It was amazing.

P.S. This is not my Dad in the picture but it sure looks a lot like him, doesn't it?

Little Purple Pansies

Of all the flowers I have ever known, and I'm sure I don't know them all, I love daisies and daffodils. They are beautiful without being too fragile, strong enough without looking sturdy. And they are cheerful and invite a sunny disposition.

Then we have the pansies. Richard and I once sang a song in Primary, in front of everyone, called "Little Purple Pansies". I remember practicing for this performance of sorts. Grandma would remind us to look up so as not to sing at the floor, and to sing out.

Primary used to be on Tuesday afternoons. It was a bit of an activity day with gospel lessons. On Sunday we went to Junior Sunday School and had gospel lessons again but this time it was a more spiritual setting. Anyway, the reason for bringing this up is because I just want to mention that David and Lloyd Chandler sang "Davey Crockett"!

Some of the pansies Grandma grew in the back yard were little miniature flowers, which I adored because they were so small. Richard and I used to pick them so we could take Grandma a bouquet. She had a little tiny vase for the little tiny flowers;
Mmmm, such a sweet memory...

"Little purple pansies touched with yellow gold,

Growing in one corner of the garden old,

We are very tiny but must try, try, try,

Just one spot to gladden you and I."

Grandma's Favorites

Grandma loved the flowers in her yard. These are the ones I remember best! Roses, Calla Lillies, Indian Torch, Pansies and Orchids. Most of these she had growing right outside the kitchen window.

For A Rainy Day

At church we had a visitor from our Stake High Council, Brother Don Dowling, who brought up the blessing of saving for emergencies. It is always smart to have some $ tucked away in a savings account should a need arise. But I felt truly validated when he brought up the ever humble money jar.
At our house I have three such "jars". Two of them are actually very nice looking wine bottles that Celeste saved for me from Red Robin where she is a manager. I put nickles and dimes in one of them and quarters in the other. For the pennies I currently use a gallon apple cider jug because pennies are far less frequented by the "needy". Brother Dowling said that he had a jar such as this and when the time arose to make an unscheduled trip, he was able to put new tires on his car. I want to also sing the praises of keeping this kind of savings.
When Suzanne had Jacob she lived in Georgia. I never thought I could ever make a trip like that, but she wanted me to come and be with her when he was born, (and so did I ;) so I dumped out my jar and started counting. I had well over $300! This was almost enough to cover the entire air fare, so I flew to Georgia. It was a first in setting the precedent for me to travel to the births of my grandchildren, and I have been there for most of them. (Garret - a C-Section - and Mollie were born 6 days apart so I missed Mollie's. Thank goodness for Celeste's wonderful mother-in-law who was able to be there. And then Kamryn - another C-section - was a week after Isabel and Suzanne's mother-in-law flew to Hawaii to save the day; Jared was still on his way home from Iraq for R and R.)
But the change from those jars has bought a few fresh things from the grocer at the end of a month, provided gifts, gas for the car, clothing, and object lessons and treats for Seminary, and these are only the things we remember! (I had to ask David for a memory jog). Anyway, I am a FIRM believer in spending only dollar bills so that I can add the change to the kitty. Repeatedly, this has very much paid off.

The Brownie Man

You've probably heard of the Gingerbread Man and the Pilsbury Dough Boy? I live with The Brownie Man.
David is getting a reputation for being an expert brownie maker. He made brownies frequently when Levi came over, but now that Levi has moved to Utah, the brownies have slowed down quite a bit. So, when the Yentes Family came to help us tame an out of control weed situation, he jumped at the chance to thank them with brownies.
Barbara gave a talk in Sacrament Meeting last Sunday and she mentioned those brownies right from the pulpit! This kind of advertising will not go unnoticed and I'm sure the opportunities will come for David to shine over and over again!

So, why all the reminiscing?

Just thinking about my Grandma Shipp.
It's her birthday. If she were alive, today she would be 105 years old.
Even when I was a little girl I knew my Grandma wouldn't live on this earth forever. But when you are a little girl, the future seems so very far away and things like this aren't something we need to think about right now. Well, then was then; and now is now, with all the memories.

Grandma was always so careful when she brushed my long hair. I would put up a fuss and she would say I had a sensitive head, so she very kindly put my hair in braids. ...Braids minimized tangles.
On very rare occasions, she let me brush her hair. I would sit on the top of the couch with my back against the wall so that I could start at the top of her head and her instructions were that I must not lift the brush until I brought it all the way down to the ends of her hair. This also minimized tangles.
Sometimes we would sit down with the great big book of nursery rhymes. She and I and sometimes Richard would read together and by the time I wasn't so young anymore I knew them well.
I had a couple of favorite books. One was "Little Black Sambo", a Little Golden Book about a small boy who was approached one at a time, by three tigers and with each one, he bargained his way out of being eaten by offering them a piece of his clothing. Later, the tigers meet up with each other in the jungle and because of their covetous desire to have the others' items, they chase each other around a tree, each holding onto the tail of the tiger in front of him. With Little Black Sambo watching, they run so fast around that tree that they seem to simply become a yellow streak, and then the streak becomes a circle of melted butter. Little Black Sambo gets all of his clothes back, and the moral of this story is, of course, not to be selfish or covetous.
The other book I loved for her to read was "Blueberries For Sal". I could very much relate to this one because it was all about going berry picking with your mother on the side of a hill. - On the other side a mother bear has also taken her child to the hill to pick berries. I was delighted by it!
I have been able to purchase "Blueberries For Sal". It is still read in homes and schools all over the country but "Little Black Sambo" is "politically incorrect". Even though there is no insult to African Americans in there anywhere, "Little Black Sambo" is no longer in print. I have searched on e-bay for a good used copy of the Little Golden Book off and on for years but the price always soars so high that it is this side of ridiculous, so I let it go.
Grandma was, well, our grandma. She was kind and loving. For her and Grandpa to take us in, and, with our Dad, provide for us and care for us and love us was a blessing most children don't get to have. Being able to know my Grandmother on the same level as a mother, with the added patience and understanding that comes with life's experiences, was full of lessons I would need to carry me through the rest of my life. She afforded me a foundation of love for which I will ever be thankful.

Happy Birthday, Grandma :)

Pride Goeth Before The Fall

I got roller skates! I don't remember whether they were for Christmas or a birthday, but they became a favorite way for me to spend my playtime. In learning to skate I held onto parked cars. As my bravery increased, it was fortunate for me that we lived just a few houses away from where the street started uphill, and I used this to my greatest advantage in skating. I would hold onto a bicycle-parking bar that went out from the coffee shop about a quarter of the way across a very wide sidewalk and was close to the bottom of the hill. The bar allowed me to pull myself up, just a couple of inches at first, and roll down. I went higher and higher up that hill until I felt pretty darned confident.
I had seen the Olympic ice skaters on t.v. and I liked their style. I still very much enjoy their graceful turns and spins, and I became proud of myself for my new found skill level. I could do some of those spins and one that I recall was being able to turn by gaining momentum and then bringing my heels in so that I would turn around and around facing the inside of my circle.
One day I decided to try something new. Those Olympic skaters could jump. I put on my skates and tried jumping. I could do it! Not very high but I still could. I didn't dare jump very high so to put flair into my performance I added a jump rope. As long as I was careful and slow it worked but I needed to be able to jump just like I did without skates. I increased my jumping speed and made the attempt despite the warnings of my brother and the rope got caught in the wheels of a skate. I fell flat on my face! Richard ran to get Grandma as I laid on the cement. My mouth was bleeding and it hurt but when my Grandma took one look at me she laughed! Immediately she covered her own mouth, apologized profusely, giggled a little, and told me how sorry she was that I had fallen down but that I looked so funny with my upper lip stuck up like that. It took me several minutes to let go of being mad at her laughter 'cause I guessed she was right. I could feel that my lip was pushed up as I landed on my face (she even showed me in the mirror) and I was lucky I hadn't broken my front teeth. So all that really got dented was my pride.

Justice and Mercy

In today's world we see much of injustice. Daily in the news there are reports of others being wronged in every way imaginable. It has even gotten to the point where leaders are counseling us not to admit to anything on a legal level without proper representation because words are twisted, easy targets are sought after and punishments are too severe. Compassion and mercy are reserved for the victim alone without thought to the one who may have to pay the eternal price when, in reality, we all must pay an eternal price unless we repent.
We did our first learning about Isaiah today. Nephi quoted him often in his teachings because he was one of the few prophets who had permission to write about so many of the things he saw in visions. Mercifully, Isaiah wrote in such a way as to be difficult to the understanding of the wicked to preserve them from becoming accountable for laws they would not keep. And the mercy of the Lord prevails as we seek His help through the Spirit to understand those sacred writings.
Court convened at about 6:30 this morning. Every student had a copy of the script. The cast was selected and we began. Yes, Isaiah is not easily understood, even by those who are seasoned in the gospel, but as we discussed justice and mercy and how we are "graven on the palms of his hands" there was a quiet in the room befitting the scene.
The thing that impresses me the most about my Seminary class is their level of spiritual maturity. They reverence that which is sacred. Barbara Yentes asked me about the silliness that teenagers can get into. I told her that perhaps there might be more of that as the kids became used to me and I to them, but now I don't think so. They have a depth of understanding and gratitude. This kind of love for our Savior surpasses the levity of youth. It becomes part of our core and makes of us people of God.

Who is the most important prophet to ever live?

I got many answers to this question this morning. It made for some fun discussion as we reviewed great contributions made by great men of God. But I was so proud when it didn't take too long for Parker to say, "President Monson, because he is the living prophet".
I took a yellow marker and wrote on the board "yellow", because it is President Monson's favorite color. Then I took a brown marker and wrote, "chocolate" on the board because he loves chocolate, but the basket of chocolate candy bars caught immediate attention.
On each bar there was a slip of paper with a question for the student and then how it would be answered by the prophet. Example: "How many children do you want to have? President Monson has three, two boys and one girl." This game was Suzanne's idea and I especially liked how the kids could relate to the prophet through their own answers as well as his. Each student had good comments and observations.
The last was a Snickers bar and the question was, "Can you wiggle your ears like President Monson?" and Clara could! She did it for us... twice! Then Kaitlyn read the part of a talk given in General Priesthood meeting where this story was told.
We read quotes by President Monson and briefly discussed them, noticing that most of the Prophet's statements were about keeping the faith. He said, "I urge you to hold fast to your standards. I plead with you not to waver", and "Courage, not compromise, brings the smile of God's approval."
We are preparing to get to know a little about Isaiah next. And perhaps, because we have been able to view a more personal side of our current prophet, we may better be able to relate to a prophet of old. Nephi said to liken the scriptures to ourselves and he also chose to repeat the words of Isaiah in his own writings. It would seem, therefore, that we too would do well to understand the counsel of these ancient men of God.

Baptism Day

When I was 7 years old I was an angel for Halloween. Unlike the "angel" in the picture I didn't have wings, but instead, across the yoke, written in gold was "Li'l Angel Child". I loved that costume and once Halloween was over I got to wear it to bed.
The following February I celebrated my 8th birthday, so I was very excited. Jumpsuits may or may not have been available but I wanted a dress, so my Grandma sewed white fabric over the words on my angel costume and I was baptized in it.
Most child baptisms are on Saturday, and so was mine. One of my friends, Janet Bellamy, was having her 8th birthday party on that very day. I had invited her to my baptism but instead, she had her party and I remember being disappointed at leaving the party early so that I would be on time for my baptism. But I also remember thinking I was lucky to be able to be baptized. Actually, I was baptized 3 times. My hair kept coming up out of the water, but the third time was the charm!
Another couple of interesting facts about my baptism: 1. I was interviewed by Bishop Chandler, my father-in-law (future of course!), who was our bishop at that time; and 2. I was confirmed on the date of my first child's birth, March 4th.

The Day I Didn't Run Away

My Grandma was one smart lady! Just like in the incident with the silly putty, she outsmarted me more than once!
I remember being bent on running away. Oh, something got stuck in my craw and I was convinced that my life would be better lived out elsewhere so I proceeded to make ready for my departure.
Grandma said she would help me and offered to make me a couple of sandwiches because, she said, I was sure to get hungry again and an extra one might be nice for later on. We wrapped them up, along with an apple, in a red bandanna and tied it to the end of a stick we found out behind the house.
Next, Grandma said I would probably want to wear a sweater under my coat because it gets really cold at night. So she helped me put a sweater on under my coat.
Grandma stopped me from leaving right then because she wanted a picture to remember me by and as she went to get the camera she told me how much she loved me and was going to miss me. I stood and posed in the dining room for her picture, but by now I was getting pretty emotional. We both cried for several minutes and she told me I didn't have to go if I didn't want to. I decided to stay, so she helped me take off the coat and sweater and together we ate the apple and the sandwiches.