Boo Humbug!

Halloween is my least favorite holiday. Except the candy. My sweet tooth really likes the candy. The rest of me could skip Halloween altogether and not mind a bit. Scary and spooky just don't do much for me. Horror and gore and evil are out of the question. But what really drives me crazy is costumes. Jeff came home from work the other day and said, "I was thinking about why you don't like Halloween. We need to find something to make it fun for you." Fun would be not having to deal with the child who knows exactly what he wants to dress up as and is extremely demanding about getting his costume just right. Fun would be not having to deal with the child who in indecisive, whiny, and not satisfied with the thirteen dozen costume choices we already own. Fun would be not having to deal with the fickle child who changes his mind about his costume at least once a day. Jeff then went on to explain that Halloween is a chance to explore and experiment and play with being something or someone else. I'm sure that's important for kids. My boys are always pretending to be superheroes or Jedi knights or something. Their pretend play is great and I certainly don't mind that. But I've worked hard over the years to become comfortable with who I am. I have little desire to pretend to be something else. That's what I've been trying to leave behind since I was a teenager. Jeff then implied that my inner child is buried way too deep. He's probably right. I hope I'm not spoiling all the holiday fun for my kids. I bought the decorations and put them up. I bought the candy (and I'll eat some of it too :-). We carved pumpkins and I roasted the seeds (yum!). We even attempted making popcorn balls for our Family Home Evening treat this week. But I'm tired of the tantrums and the tears over costumes. I, for one, will be glad when Halloween is over.

Adam is Paul Bunyan. Dallin is Babe the Blue Ox (Adam's idea). Ryan was a ninja for our neighbor's Halloween party, but dressed up as Harry Potter for the Halloween parade at school today, and then switched to Spiderman for trunk-or-treating and trick-or-treating. Jared is a cowboy, obviously. He has been freaking out about anything scary, to the point of running away from Halloween decorations in every store we've been to during the last six weeks. This explains why his jack-'o-lantern has a smiley face.

P.S. It turns out Dallin's costume was a real hit, even though no one recognized him as Babe the Blue Ox. About halfway through our Trunk-or-treat in the church parking lot I realized why I'd been getting comments all day about how cute he was. It wasn't just because he was a cute baby in a costume. Turns out we inadvertently dressed him as a Pleasant Grove Viking--all royal blue with horns (although they were definitely ox horns--I did my research). We haven't lived here long enough to become true PG fans yet, but we intend to. Go Vikings!

A History of Sewing: Mine, Anyway

My first real introduction to sewing happened one summer while I was in high school. My friend and I took sewing lessons from her mom, a very talented seamstress. I'm sure I was fulfilling some goal for my Young Womanhood Award. I made a pair of shorts. And that was it. I wasn't hooked. Several years later I took a Beginning Sewing class at BYU. I must have felt sewing was a good skill to have, so I gave it another shot. I made a skirt and a blouse that I wore maybe twice. The final project for the class was to compare the cost of buying an outfit vs. making a similar one. When I realized I could buy clothes cheaper than I could make them, my interest in sewing faded completely.

Over the years I've never really regretted not developing that talent, but I have wished I had a sewing machine, just so I could mend things. I'll admit to saving almost all my mending for my mom and mother-in-law. Then earlier this year I received a really nice hand-me-down sewing machine in a cabinet from a lady in our ward in Texas. But I was intimidated by it. Still I saved my mending until my mother-in-law came to visit. She figured out how to use my new machine first and caught me up on all my mending--again.

So, inspired by my friend Charlotte and her lists of goals, I set a goal to figure out how to use my fancy new sewing machine myself before the end of this year. Last Wednesday became the day. Adam earned his Cub Scout Wolf badge and three arrow points at a Pack Meeting sometime last spring. I stuck the badges in a "safe place"--the outside pocket of the diaper bag. And there they stayed through the summer and through our move. Then last month Adam started Cub Scouts in our new ward here in Utah. Not only did he need his Wolf badge sewed on his uniform, but he also needed a new council patch and a new pack number. So I went to the diaper bag to find the patches. All three tiny little arrow points were still there, but the Wolf badge was gone. So I put the arrow points in a safer place and procrastinated. Sewing on patches by hand is a pain and very time-consuming, so I was glad to put off that particular project. But then pack meeting was coming up this month, and I found out the Cub Scout leaders were planning to award Adam his three arrow points again, because he told them he hadn't received them yet. Guilt trip. My fault. No more procrastinating. Time to sew on the patches. So on the day of pack meeting I made the trip to the Scout Shop, bought the requisite patches, and--ran out of time to sew them on. When I finally sat down to sew them on last Wednesday before the next den meeting, I decided that even though it would probably take me just as much time to learn how to use my sewing machine as it would take to sew the patches on by hand, I would be better off in the long run if I would just bite the bullet and get out the instruction manual. It took all afternoon, but I got all the patches sewed on in the proper spots and they look good, if I do say so myself. The pocket is not sewed shut, and the sleeve is not sewed together. . . anymore. It was an absorbing project, but that was a good thing on that particular day when I was letting negative thoughts get the better of me anyway. When I was done, my mood was better and I felt such a sense of accomplishment. I even mended a hole in Jeff's sweatshirt, and tried to patch some of Ryan's jeans. (The patching didn't go so well though, so I made a trip to Sears the next day to buy double-kneed Toughskins jeans, worth every penny of the full price I paid. Although I have yet, to test it, I've heard Sears will replace them for free if your kid goes through the knee before they grow out of them.) I doubt I'll ever claim the title of seamstress, but if I can mend and sew on Scout patches for my four boys for the next 20 years, I think my sewing skills will be just fine.

Five small steps

Dallin took his first steps yesterday, two weeks short of his 1st birthday. He had a lot of encouragement from his dad and brothers and Grandma Marilyn and Papa Scott. He's not very steady on his feet though, so I think it will be several more weeks before he's taking off of his own volition. I think that makes him my earliest walker except Adam, who was walking at nine months (before he even cut any teeth!). It's both sad and fun to see my baby growing up. I know they have to grow, but I miss the little baby stage when it's gone.

Grandma and Grandpa came down to see Adam and Ryan in the annual Primary program in sacrament meeting yesterday, then stayed for Sunday dinner. Ryan did very well with his speaking part, and Adam impressed everyone with his solo of "Listen, Listen." He has a good ear and a good voice, but I really don't know where he gets the guts to sing a solo in front of the whole ward! We were proud of both of them.

An apple a day...

...or four bushels in eight hours! On Saturday I did something I've never done before. Jeff and I bottled 30 quarts of applesauce. As a kid I helped my mom bottle and preserve fruit and other things, but until now I've never really had the space or even the desire to do it on my own. But this house we moved into has two apples trees in the backyard, one of which produced a bumper crop of Golden Delicious this year. And it has a mostly empty food storage room in the basement. Three weeks ago we spent three hours picking apples on a Saturday morning when a storm was blowing in and we thought they might freeze if we didn't get them off the tree. Then they sat in boxes in our storage room, waiting for the next free weekend when we could do something about them. I have to admit that when the time came, I wasn't super excited about the project, but I really didn't want the apples to go to waste either.

We started after breakfast, about 9 a.m., with a little over-the-phone coaching and some equipment borrowed from Jeff's parents. And then we just kept going and going. I knew it would take some time, but I didn't realize it would take all day, nor did I realize how all-consuming it would be. The kids watched A LOT more TV than they are usually allowed. And they escaped all their Saturday chores (except helping turn the handle of the Squeezo strainer machine). I didn't want to stop for anything, because I just wanted to get DONE. About 3 p.m. the kids asked, "Can we have some chips?" Potato chips for lunch? "Sure, that's fine." Then my recently toilet-trained three-year-old came and asked for help going to the potty. "Okay, let's go." Then I can go too! We finished about 5 p.m., only because I had arranged for a babysitter so we could go on a date at 6 p.m. and I still needed a shower, not because the apples were all gone. We still have a bushel or so left to eat or dry--I'm done with applesauce!

By the time we finished, I was tired. I told Jeff that I wasn't sure it was worth the effort or the money. I spent $60.00 on a steam canner, canning tools, and jar lids. That means the applesauce cost about $2 per quart, not to mention the man hours it took to pick the apples and make the applesauce. Jeff's man hours are worth at least $25 per hour, and mine--well, it's hard to put a dollar value on what a mom does, but I figure mine are priceless! So basically, we have 30 quarts of really expensive applesauce. It would be so much more cost effective to buy it on a good sale at the store. We don't even eat applesauce very often. Jeff's response was, "Doesn't it make you feel like a good Mormon housewife though, canning your own food?" In one way, I suppose it does. It's what I grew up with. Somehow it seems like something I'm supposed to do. I always figured when I had a decent-sized kitchen and a place to store it all, I would learn how to can.

A little more than eight years ago Jeff had just finished his Master's degree at BYU, and Adam was nine months old. As I remember it, we had our U-Haul packed and ready to drive across the country to Cincinnati where Jeff would get his Ph.D. My parents came up from Cedar to say goodbye and give us a hand-me-down twin bed that Adam could grow into while we lived there. My mom also brought me an antique rocking chair from my grandma's house, and a box full of home-canned fruit. I thanked her--I love home-canned pears and peaches, and she was nice to share them with us, as both sets of our parents have over the years. But I didn't think much of it until we got to Cincinnati. The first time I opened one of those jars of fruit, my chest tightened up and the tears rolled down my face. We were tight on money, and I was very homesick. That box of fruit was a box of love from my mom--food that I didn't have to pay for, and a comforting piece of the home and family that I was missing so much. I hoarded that fruit, and fought back tears again when it was gone.

So what value do I put on my 30 quarts of homemade applesauce? Is it just a waste of time and money? Or am I passing on a heritage of self-reliance and my own jars of love? Guess we'll see next year when our apples are ripe again!

And now I'm off to scrub the stove and kitchen floor...

(The pink jars are cinnamon applesauce, a Packer family tradition.)

So Cal

My youngest sister, Joy, got her mission call yesterday. She will be serving in the California Carlsbad Mission, English speaking. (Carlsbad is on the coast, halfway between L.A. and San Diego, not far from Oceanside. She won't get to enjoy the beach much, however.) I am proud of Joy and so excited for her! Of course all our guesses about where she would go were wrong (Hong Kong, Czech Republic, Mongolia, Texas, Germany, Japan), but I know she is going where the Lord wants her to serve, and where she will learn best what she needs to learn. When you pray for the missionaries, please know my little sister is one of them!

Tooth #3

Dallin cut his third tooth yesterday, this time on top. Here's a cute picture of him showing a bit of the toothies on the bottom. (Click to enlarge if you really want to see them. :-)

Last Three Counties in Utah

Last Friday Jeff and the boys were out of school for their Fall Break (a.k.a. UEA or deer hunt holiday). We decided to take advantage of the long weekend to drive over to Vernal to visit Jeff's brother and family. In the process of the trip, I finally made it to Duchesne, Uintah, and Daggett counties, the last three counties I needed to visit in Utah. Ta da!

That puts me at 652 of out of 3141 counties (20.76%), 36 of 50 states, 2 Canadian provinces, and 9 other foreign countries. I have now visited all the counties in Nevada, Utah, and the District of Columbia. You can find the website I use to track my counties and access a map of my U.S. travels on the Scoreboard here.

We had a great time with Nathan and JoLynn and their boys. The kids all played pretty well together and we just enjoyed each other's company. On Friday they gave us the grand tour of the Utah Field House of Natural History, otherwise known as the "dinosaur museum." As museums go, it is really nice. If only Jared weren't afraid of dinosaurs. :-( Saturday we took a picnic lunch and drove north on U.S. 191 towards Flaming Gorge. Our first stop was a hike near Red Fleet State Park to see some dinosaur tracks preserved in the sandstone on the edge of the reservoir. The weather was very pleasant and the hike was enjoyable, but a bit long for the younger kids (3 miles round trip). Jeff had Dallin in our backpack, but we ended up taking turns carrying the three toddlers a lot too. Next time we'll be better prepared. After the hike we had a quick picnic lunch in a scenic spot before heading home. Here are some pictures of the kids and the scenery:

Cheesy Grins














Nathan & Aiden




















Corbin the Lizard















Adam was hungry enough to eat a rock sandwich. Mmm, sandstone!

Oh Canada!

When I was a freshman at BYU, one of my roommates in Heritage Halls was a very fun girl from Alberta, Canada. After two semesters of living with Jacquie, I knew what a garborator was, I knew how to say "eh," and I wanted to go visit Alberta and see if it was as beautiful as she said it was. Almost twenty years later, I finally got my chance.

Earlier this month, Jeff had an academic conference to go to in Calgary, and I tagged along. (Actually, I've been planning this for a year.) There were all kinds of good reasons. Jeff's hotel room and car were paid for, so we just had to buy a plane ticket for me. We were due for an overnighter without kids. I can only think of two we've had since Adam was born almost nine years ago. And we are coming up on our 15th anniversary, so I figured I could justify it as an early celebration. It was wonderful! We definitely need to have getaways like this more often. Jeff's parents were kind enough to tend for us, so I didn't have one worry about the kids (although I did miss them a tiny bit :-). While Jeff was in his conference sessions, I kicked back in the hotel room and read a couple books--something I don't get to do very often. I also explored downtown Calgary a little, although it wasn't much fun to do by myself. My favorite thing was the Devonian Gardens, an indoor arboretum above a three-story mall. And we ate several good meals, the best of which was at the Silver Dragon in Chinatown, about two blocks from our hotel.

After Jeff was done with his conference on Saturday, we took off on the Trans-Canada Highway up into the Canadian Rockies. Originally we had planned to go to Banff and Lake Louise, but one of Jeff's colleagues suggested a less touristy route, and Jeff was all for that. We ended up driving south through the mountains on Highway 40. The scenery was beautiful! We stopped several times and took as many pictures as we had battery power in our camera--I had three sets of batteries that all died, and two sets of rechargeables that weren't charged--argh! The last of our batteries and the light died about the same time, so we headed back up the road to find some dinner in Canmore. We had a simple but entertaining meal in the bar of a Boston Pizza. All the tables were full in the restaurant, and a Calgary Flames-Vancouver Canucks hockey game was showing in the bar. Since we didn't have kids along and we were hungry, we opted for an available table in the bar. Watching the game was fun, but watching the fans was even more fun. There was one guy at a table near us that talked hockey with another guy for at least an hour-and-a-half straight while they watched the game. (He reminded us of Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite.) I don't think the two guys even knew each other. And I'm sure I didn't hear more than three words from their wives the whole time. (They must have been wives. I don't think any two guys would ignore their girlfriends so completely!) Anyway, we enjoyed our meal, our waters (the waitress was probably disappointed with our tip), and the entertainment, and I felt like somehow I'd had a completely Canadian experience.

On Sunday we got a nice little tour of Calgary in an effort to find a chapel where we could watch General Conference. I had a map to the stake center closest to our hotel, but hello--it was closed for remodeling. That particular bit of helpful info wasn't available on the Church web site. We found a phone book and I wrote down addresses for two more chapels that we thought we could find. We didn't have a very detailed map, so it was a little tricky, but we found them, complete with no cars in the parking lots and no satellite dish at either one. It took a trip back downtown to a mall with free Internet to figure out where another stake center was. We made it there in time to watch the Sunday afternoon session, then went straight to the airport for our flight home after a very nice weekend. My only regret was that we didn't have time to drive up there and back. I would have liked to have seen the Cardston Temple and Waterton Park (where Jacquie worked summers) on the way.