To Grandma; Happy Birthday!

I have been so blessed to have so many experiences and memories with my Grandma Quist. She celebrates her ninetieth birthday this month. One reason I have been able to have so many experiences with her is because of her longevity. Her influence on me has been passed down directly and through the parenting style of my Dad.

Through Grandma I have learned to “use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.” So much of our world is focused on commercialism and new stuff. Not Grandma. The things in her house have been used as long as they could feasibly have been used. She does not want a new item until, and typically only when, the old one will not work at all. Through Grandma I have also learned that what means the most is not a physical item. The physical items that she cherishes have a strong sentimental meaning for her. For example the quilt that is the most valuable to Grandma was made by her mother. Her mother was a very talented quilter and made this particular quilt when she was seventy five years old. For Grandma the value is not the quilt; but that it was made by her mother for her because of her mother’s love.

Growing up I have often seen my Dad with his siblings fight for the position to do something for their mom. Helping Grandma was clearly a very important role. She is an important person to them who they all vie for the ability to serve. Little service things like mowing the grass, walking with her up the stairs, or cutting toenails are huge helps that her children all try help her with.

There are so many things that remind me of Grandma Quist and Grandma’s house. These are some of the fun memories that I have been blessed to share with her or at her house while visiting or things that just remind me of visiting Grandma.

• ·         Cracked wheat cereal – we always had this at Grandma’s house in the morning. Sometimes there was oatmeal and others corn mush. It was always warm and delicious.
• ·         Cinnamon disc cookies – these are the best cookies that Grandma makes. Probably my favorite. They are easy to make; but the dough when I make them hardly ever gets far enough to be baked.
• ·         Trampoline in the house – she had this under the twin bed and we always brought it out and jumped and jumped until it was time to let someone else have a turn. It was brought out a lot when we would visit.
• ·         Pound puppies – Tyler used to carry around some tiny black and white puppy dogs that were the size of half of your palm. He had lost one or two at Grandma’s house and, of course, Tyler was devastated. We could not find them and went home. Next time we went to Grandma’s house Tyler and Garrett got a toy out to play and inside the box were those puppies that Tyler had lost. We laughed a lot about those puppies being in that little box of toys. Especially because it was probably Tyler who put them in the box and could not remember and was so upset about it.
• ·         Feeding Grandma’s cats – Grandma always saved scraps for the cats. While we would visit we were able to take the scraps to the cats. I did that only once. At that time I tried to be especially careful to not have the food splatter or spill out of the feeding dish. The cats were hungry and knew what was coming and were ready at the dish. I got nervous or something and dumped all of the food onto one cats head. My Dad who was verbally guiding me on how to feed the cats tummy laughed for a long time.
• ·         Making cheesecake – I went with my Dad to Grandma’s house so he could help Lloyd, David and Glenden with the bathroom remodel. I wasn’t much help with the bathroom; but I helped Grandma with making lunches and similar things. During this time David had a birthday. Grandma wanted to make a cake for him. She and I made a cheesecake.  It took a long time and David was very appreciative of us making that cake for him.
• ·         Snow drifts – My family went to Grandma’s house just before Chelsea’s wedding.  It was snowy and difficult to drive through. On my drive to her house I had made a wrong turn and had to be dug out five minutes from her house. A neighbor had to plow the road so Chelsea and those going to the sealing could get to the temple. The wind had blown in the morning hours and caused the snow around Grandma’s house to pile up like sand dunes. While Grandma and Chelsea and my parents went to the temple I stayed at Grandma’s house with Tyler and Garrett. I challenged Garrett to a race around the house through the middle of these snow drifts. He accepted. We somersaulted through the snow and leaped and dived. I ended up getting myself a little stuck and Garrett had to pull me out.
• ·         Doing Dishes – My Dad often encouraged us to do the dishes while we were at Grandma’s. Most of the time it was a dreaded chore; but it helped Grandma greatly and she cooked such good food for us. When my family was visiting just before Chelsea’s wedding Garrett and I did the dishes for every meal. We had great fun doing them together. We got really good at getting the dishes cleaned. After the last meal before we were going to leave to go home Grandma was very adamant that we do not wash her dishes. My Dad meanwhile was encouraging and told us to go ahead. Grandma started gathering up her dirty dishes away from us. She started raising her voice and even stomped her foot she was so riled up. She wanted to do the dishes herself she said so she could remember us as we were driving home. Her foot stamp had us so surprised we were laughing.
• ·         The bookcase of cousins – Grandma’s house always had the cousin’s pictures. I have always thought that was so neat. It was very exciting to have a new picture that we could put in so I could replace the previous years. Embarrassingly, I think the picture that is currently there is several years old. Next to that wall were the pictures of Grandma’s children. I was always amazed at how much hair my Dad’s picture had. I could tell it was him not by the hair obviously, but the toothy grin.
• ·         The Still and Quiet Game – At one point my family was at Grandma’s the same time that Darrel’s family was. We started to play the still and quiet game. Jessica and I were getting really into it. We found some ways to lie down or hang upside down. From these positions we would be both still and quiet. Grandma got worried and banned the still and quiet game her house evermore.
• ·         I am one of the few people who have gotten to go on an airplane with Grandma. She was nervous to be away from home; but she did perfectly well on the plane. We got to check out the clouds and talk about all of the things that we were flying over. (If I remember right she has a strong opinion of Beaver, Utah.) We visited her sister Elsie together while in Mesa. The stories that came out of the woodwork while these two sisters reminisced and giggled were amazing. Apparently they did not get much sleep as they visited so late into the evening with Elsie quoting the Proclamation and singing songs to Grandma.

I am so blessed to have been able to know Grandma Quist. She is a wonderful blessing to my family and to me. I am very excited that we can celebrate her ninetieth birthday together. Happy Birthday Grandma!

-          Love Amanda

Make History or Be Remembered

A coworker wore into work on casual Friday a t-shirt that had the words “well behaved women seldom make history.” This was a souvenir gift from her boyfriend’s parents.  I sniggered with her that these potential in laws are saying she is not a well behaved woman. She insisted that the phrase is well known and does not necessarily mean that she is a naughty girl in the eyes of these parents. Upon a Google search we found the source of the statement. It was in the opening paragraph of a literary journal article about Puritan women and what is known about them through their eulogies. The article is written by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich.

While at BYU studying history the name Laurel Thatcher Ulrich popped up in one of the required History classes. She is an LDS historian who wrote about Puritan women’s history. The fields of history that I have been most drawn to are colonial period, and women’s history. Why I did not gravitate to this historian earlier I just don’t know. Regardless, in the unexpected form of a t-shirt, I was introduced again. I took a break from reading adventure fiction novels and wet my feet in historian texts once again.

“Well-behaved women seldom make history” draws to mind very diverse yet similar images. Any woman that lived many years ago had to have done something extraordinary in order to be remembered today. By today’s standards this extraordinary thing would be considered quite ordinary; but at the time of the historical woman it could very likely have been considered misbehavior. The extraordinary thing could have been at one time keeping a journal as the written word was not the societal norm it is today. Or it could have been cross dressing and joining the army to physically fight for freedom. Both circumstances would allow present persons to remember and connect with these women. I feel there is a difference, however, between making history and becoming notorious. Notoriety seems to have a sense of evil doing to it that is beyond the line of misbehavior. In the vast history of witch hunting for example there were women who were targeted for life circumstances of being single or childless and that was the extent of their misbehavior. There were likely others who in actuality were acting with intentions that were mean and unrighteous and this was why they became targets for the witch hunts.

The last line of the book sums up my interpretation of the phrase best. Mrs. Ulrich writes, “Well-behaved women make history when they do the unexpected, when they create and preserve records, and when later generations care.” It is a simple formula for how to be remembered. To make history one simply does something unexpected and someone else cares. Being remembered does not always require misbehavior.

One of the stories in the book was about two old women who decided that they wanted to register to vote despite being before the 19^th Ammendment. They were denied in their endeavor. In response these sisters in their late seventies and early eighties decided they would no longer pay the taxes on their farm. The tax collector came to collect the taxes and took their cows as payment. The cows would not be milked by anyone other than the tenant of the sisters. When the cows were milked the woman who treated the milk would not do so because the cows were stolen, and thus the milk spoiled. The cows after an absence were returned to the women in whole. A journalist at the time wrote, “Does taxation without representation cease to be tyranny, and become justice, when the property-owner is a woman?” The imagery of the Revolutionary War in the words of this journalist did make me laugh at loud. The stubbornness of these Grandmas is inspiring and endearing.

Many young girls want to grow up to be famous. They want people to know who they are. As they grow up, these little girls now little grandma’s, no longer want to be famous; but instead want to be remembered. It is far easier to be remembered today with our prevalence and ease of journaling and social media, photography and computers. The key ingredient to being remembered is that someone needs to care. Misbehavior stands out as it is often sensational and scandalous; yet other traits of bravery and personality can also entice future generations to care.

Past generations of women that we remember today had some advantages that their contemporaries likely did not. These women were very talented in some regard. This could have been in art, music, writing, or beauty. Their talents set them apart from other women who may have had the same talents on a more mediocre scale. Other women who had the social standing and thus familial wealth to pay for training to develop these talents further were noted to be very accomplished as well. Thus, an exceptional talent or the means to develop an exceptional talent allowed such women to stand out from the crowd. Women that others noted as exceptional were granted immortality through writings or images. Those works that have been preserved for today allow current men and women a glimpse into the lives that these women lived. And thus, be remembered.

The statement “Well-behaved Women Seldom Make History” could perhaps be true. Breaking gender and societal norms for women has granted many historical women a place in history. Women that fought in battles, women that dressed in drag, women that did what had been men’s work, women who did not bear children, women who used crass language. These women who acted like men would have stood out from the other women in their towns. People who met these masculine women would have passed word about her for good or ill. These women would have been written about and thus we have something to remember them by.

Well-behaved women can write their own place in history. Through journals, diaries, stories, and pictures ordinary everyday women are remembered. They very likely lived very ordinary lives filled with mundane chores and tasks. These daily tasks make up the whole of the individual and the life that they lived. There is something very exciting about discovering what someone did with their life. What historical events were they blessed to see or be a part of. What kind of person they were. “By small and simple things are great things brought to pass” (Alma 37:6). It is the little details that make the life of the individual. Every person lives their own unique life and has their unique experiences and perspectives. There are similarities in what many people see and say. Yet there cannot be two exact lives. We have been blessed to have agency. To choose for ourselves what we will do with the time on Earth that we have been given.

To be remembered someone else needs to care. In my journal I write for myself. I don’t imagine anyone else would care as much as I would. But, I care. I care about the mundane, boring, and repetitive daily activities. I care because I remember. I remember the person I was when I wrote the entry. I remember what I wrote, and I remember what I did not write. Even if I am the only person to care, the girl and the young woman who wrote the journal entries long ago will always be remembered.

There and Back Again

Since the triathlon I have gleefully discontinued much of my exercising regime. I have gone on a jog one time. And I have gone swimming one time if you count the time I sat in the hot tub. (If you don’t count that subtract one from that number.) Life has continued quite nicely cutting out these activities that are not on my joy list.

The one event from the Triathlon that I have continued with is Cycling. If you trust the Map my Ride application on an ipod I have gone nearly one thousand miles since November! I think the application exaggerates the mileage quite regularly. Regardless, my bike has certainly gone some distance.

Most of these miles are from biking to and from work. I have been able to do this a couple days a week - this distance is somewhere between 15 and 22 miles.

Jogie recently has had a rotation at the Phoenix VA which is nearby to where I work. It has been nice because our schedules have coincided nicely such that we have been able to carpool. On many of these carpool days we loaded up my bicycle so I can bike home when I am finished, and Jogie can drive home when he is finished. I have gotten many more biking days in per week than I otherwise would.

Meanwhile, Jogie’s been wanting to do a big, weekend bike ride. Over Conference Weekend we rode our bikes to Wickenburg, Arizona. This is a town that is about fifty miles from our home. The plan was to ride out Friday night after work, and ride back Saturday. Saturday morning as we were preparing for our return ride Jogie was considering calling our Home Teachers to come pick us up because he was just too tired. We started on our return bike ride without calling for a ride. This return ride was definitely more strenuous solely because of the sun. All said we made it there and back which means we did a hundred miles in a 24 hour period! As the week progressed the most difficult part of recovery for me was the sunburn from the bits of skin that I missed when I applied sun screen such as wrists, fingers, forehead under the bangs, ankle, and back of knee. As Jogie has been out of practice on his bike his path of recovery was a little different. All of his biking muscles were so sore that many of his activities of daily living were compromised for a couple days. Despite sunburns and muscle aches we are proud of our ride that took us there and back again.

Next thing on our list is to do a hundred miles in one day. The hardest thing will be having our schedules both match up with one of an organized ride. Hopefully, that goal can be realized soon.

Bucket List

So, I have some major catching up to do. At least I can say I was having great life experiences and adventures even though I have not been documenting it.  In college I had roommates that felt like they needed to catch up on their journaling because they had not written what they intended for months on end. Some even left blank pages between entries to leave room for the entry they really wanted to write; but did not have time for. I now know how that feels. I am famously good at my personal journal and keeping that up to date. I like having something to prove that I really did something every single day. But with my blog I am terribly behind. Rather than apologize for it I’ll make amends; and document those adventures that I really wanted to include.

The great life experiences are thus: Sprint Triathlon, Skydiving, and a Hot Air Balloon Ride.

First off the Sprint Triathlon which we did in Anthem, Arizona. Firstly, both Jogie and myself completed the course. We are so stoked that we did it. The race was a reverse triathlon which means that the order of the race was running, biking and then swimming. The race was disorganized and when it came time to start I could not find any of the runners or even where the starting line was at. It was behind the trees and across a bridge. Luckily with some panic I made it.

The running section wasn’t too bad. It started easily enough with a gentle downhill jog. I definitely felt like I was Miss Awesomeness. Then half way through it slopes uphill. Yeah. My running skills are really not up to squat like I had envisioned. Jogie similarly was no enthused with his running ability.

The biking was the opposite experience. It was really fun. It had a huge downhill that with our super awesome bikes allowed us to push faster and faster. It was so exciting to be passing people on the cycling course. I thought I was doing so well because I passed more people than passed me.

The last course was the swimming. Of course Jogie rocked it and loved it. I did not. But I finished. I suppose I can’t expect to be an amazing swimmer when I had never tried lap swimming until this summer.

In each of our age groups we ranked 9^th. This was not enough to place; but it is enough to brag about. So yeah, we got ninth; Yeah!

Just prior to our Triathlon we tried out Skydiving. Jogie particularly was excited to be doing this. His brother had done this and recommended it to him; and Jogie became a believer based on his brother’s testimony. When we got to the airport they had us put on ugly jumpsuits and dorky helmets. I would have felt more self-conscious but Jogie was wearing a pink jump suit and I had lucked out with yellow. Jogie’s mom came to watch. She was really excited to have a front row seat.  As we were waiting and watching the previous jumpers land someone called my name. He introduced himself as the person who was going to jump with me. So I followed him around. After grabbing the backpack that contains the chute he leads me out to the little plane in the middle of the runway. We walk underneath the plane and then he pulls out a bunk bed ladder for us to climb into the plane. Climbing this ladder was the scariest part of the whole experience. I thought for sure the plane would start rolling and try to take off while I was climbing the ladder! Inside the plane instead of seats they have two benches in the middle of it. The idea was you straddle the benches in the order that you will jump. I was the second to last to jump out. Jogie was the last. My fellow jumper sat behind me and alternated between asking me if I was scared and singing Willow Smith’s song “I whip my hair back and forth” to me. I think he was jealous of my pony tail. That or he was nervous to be eating my hair during the entire fall. 

Jumping out of the plane was a cinch. All you do is squat down at the opening and when you lean forward the wind will pull you right out. Freefall was boring. You try to see or hear stuff; but it is going so fast you really can’t tell anything. My jumping buddy pointed out an airplane during freefall which is significant because a plane was not to be flying through the same airspace as the jumpers; I’m assuming because if you are falling you can’t exactly stop yourself from hitting a plane if it is right in your path.  But, I don’t worry about things like that. When the chute opened we were able to have some real fun. I really enjoyed getting to spin in circles as we descended. My jumping buddy asked me several times about my stomach. I thought he was being weird asking irrelevant questions. As an afterthought I think he was worried that I would lose my cookies and because we were drifting downwards it would go up instead of down. We came in fast and sat down in the gravel to stop. The plane ride was about 30 minutes. The falling and parachuting was maybe 10 minutes. It is sad that you have this once in a lifetime adventure and it is over so quickly.

For Thanksgiving while some of Jogie’s family came to visit us we took them on a Hot Air Balloon ride. I have long had a secret desire to go up in a Hot Air Balloon. When I was a little girl one of my grandma’s had gifted me and two of my siblings with books that had swapped out character names for our names. In the plot of the book where I was the main character I see hot air balloons floating outside my window and express wonderment about what it would be like to go up in one. I talk to my sister about what she thinks it would be like to be in one. I ask Grandma if they would let me go up in one. Of course the children’s story continues with me getting a chance to go up in a hot air balloon and I get to take Grandma, my sister and my brother with me.  On this day in 2012 it was not just a story about me getting to go up in a hot air balloon; I really did it!

Despite being only a couple miles from our house the experience felt like a vacation with its romantic, easy going leisure. We embraced the vacation atmosphere by taking pictures of everything including the sunrise, of our shadows, of our vehicle, and of the houses as they appear from google earth. The balloon itself was huge! I think our house could fit inside of it. It is built to hold 40,000 cubic feet of hot air. The fabric for the balloon fits into a bag the size of an economy car. The basket is that size as well.  It took 30 minutes at least to roll out the balloon fabric and get it ready to fill up. The balloon was lying on the ground when we start to fill it up. When it had plenty of air in it they turned on burners to heat the air so it will rise. Just like the science project my Dad and I did in the garage when I was little, the heat going into the balloon caused it to rise up in the air. The balloon rising in the air also up-righted the basket. The basket held 10 people. When the basket was upright everyone piled in.

The balloon lifted slowly and without feeling any sort of engine startup we had lifted up into the air. Once everyone was in we were at the whim of the balloon and wherever the breeze took us. It was quite relaxing to drift along without a destination at all. The world was so beautiful and peaceful early in the morning as we drifted along in the balloon.  From the balloon we had no perception of how fast we were going. As we were descending the balloon operator dramatized just how quickly we were going by tossing out a folded up business card. It floated upwards and away. We were descending faster than a folded up business card was falling.

The landing was rather adventuresome. We bumped a tree branch and then hit the ground. The balloon wanted to lift off again.  Since we had our balloon chasers acting as brakes our basket tried to tip us out onto the desert.

If I had to choose what was more enjoyable skydiving or hot air ballooning I would say the hot air balloon. Of course that means that Jogie would say the skydiving.