WALLACE GODDARD YOUTUBE ON HEALTHY MARRIAGES

CRITTERS IN OUR LIFE

My boys always liked critters—the uglier the better and we have housed them all—snakes, lizards, and rodents of various kinds. When Beau was a little guy he had a visual fascination with all animals. We started drawing spiders with him when he could barely hold a pencil. When we moved to Farmington he started chasing and catching lizards and snakes in the hills behind our house. At one time he had a Blow Snake in a cardboard box with a board and a rock on top of it. He would periodically take out the snake and carry it around his neck. This was not a little snake. It was about 4-5 ft. long and more than 2 inches in diameter. It was very unnerving. He also had a terrarium with 7 captured lizards.
I was not happy with the snake in his room. A good friend in the neighborhood, (the Johnstons) had a snake get loose in the house and it crawled in the heater vents. Besides, it wasn’t a very good life for a snake even if he was loved. Beau was not ready to give it up. He went to Boy Scout camp at the end of the summer. I decided this was a perfect opportunity to free the snake so the day he left I took the box the board and the rock up the hill and let the snake go. Before Beau returned home a week later the cat had eaten all of the lizards. This was one mighty unhappy boy. I am glad I don’t remember how long it was before he was willing to speak to me. I hoped for forgiveness knowing I wouldn’t get permission. The cat just licked his chops.


Then we had hamsters and gerbils—not at the same time, thank heavens. These were very irritating critters. The entire night of these nocturnal little creatures was spent trying to get out of their cage and they often succeeded. We did learn how to catch most of them. You get a tall plastic bucket and make stairs up to the top of it with books. Then you put a carrot in the bottom. It worked almost every time. The rodent would jump in after the carrot and couldn’t get out. Once we didn’t catch one and sometime later I found its carcass in a jar in the storage room. It found the jar before the carrot bucket.
The boys had a good friend down the street, Bret Miller, who also had a gerbil. He brought it for a visit one day. They put it in the cage with our gerbil. The visit consisted of 30 seconds of what appeared to be a violent fight with rolling, squealing and flying fur. Well, about a month later the kids told me to come and look at the little worms in the cage. They were not worms but tiny pink baby gerbils. We let them get old enough to wean and gave them to the pet store. There would be no more visits from Bret’s gerbil!


Beau brought home a cute little spotted mouse once but Ian adopted it and took care of it. It escaped in his room and we never found it. We figured it crawled into a hole in the closet where the air-conditioning pipes come in. I guess the carrot bucket only works on hamsters and gerbils.


I am not sure who brought home the black and white rat but he would be the best critter yet. Rats are not so visually appealing because of their naked tail but Poser was a sweetheart and totally bonded to Ian. I often sing the praises of rats because they seem to relate to their captor and they are not obsessed with escaping. Poser lived in an aquarium in Ian’s room. Ian would let him out when he was doing his homework and this lovable creature would climb around the room and around Ian. If it got out of its cage at night it would get in bed with Ian. Poser’s main problem was running on its wheel at night and making racket that disturbed Ian’s sleep.


 One day when Ian came home from school the cage was full of his socks. Poser had gotten out and Ian had left his sock drawer open that morning so Poser decided to feather his nest with all of Ian’s socks. It was quite comical to see the rat lying in the aquarium full to the top with the socks.


Poser had been with us for over a year when he got sick. He was lying in the bottom of his cage with blood coming out of his nose. Ian was devastated and I was sure that the rat would not live long. It was the weekend and Ian would not leave his side. When Sunday came he would not go to church. I couldn’t imagine Poser would live through the night but Monday morning the rat was still breathing. I convinced Ian that he should go to school and that I was sure he would be dead by the time he returned home. Poser hadn’t moved for 4 days now. I promised a funeral and a burial in a nice box. I told him we would go to the pet store and get another rat that afternoon.




 All day I checked on the rat. He didn’t die. Ian would be arriving home about 3:30 p.m. and it was about 2:00. I decided that it might be best to hurry things along so I got a plastic bag and tied it tightly around its head. At 2:45 the rat was still alive. This is a gruesome confession but I went in the room in a cold sweat with a determination to squeeze on the head until it died. I couldn’t imagine it had that much life left in it but it did.


When Ian arrived home I had a nice little fabric lined box prepared and we dug a hole and had a nice funeral for poor old Poser. We got in the car and went to the pet store for Poser II. Ian was getting to be a teen about this time and his interests were elsewhere and Poser II was getting neglected. He decided to let him go. One Saturday morning he took the rat and a little bag of wheat and went up in the trees behind our house to say goodbye to his little friend. He was gone for hours and crying when he returned. Then every few weeks after that he would tell me that he was going to get another rat. "Not in my house—My critter days are over!"

BOOK REVIEW - JOOP - A NOVEL OF ANNE FRANK

Recently I ran across a clipping from the Deseret News about this book and decided to send for it since Masterpiece Theatre is going to do Anne Frank's story this year and our book club is picking books soon.  This isn't a story of Anne Frank perse. It is told by an old man recounting the horrors of the German Occupation of Amsterdam during WWII when he was a boy.  Who was Anne Frank's betrayer?  Can hunger cancel out compassion?  This book is a fascinating look at an adolecents desire to understand human suffering as experienced in his family's war time deprivation and his intense need to be accepted by his father.  The writing style is wonderfully rich in detail, comfortable, breezy and a little irreverant at times.  It is 200 quick, compelling pages that I couldn't put down. It left me with lots to think about.  I highly recommend it.

BOOK REVIEW - THE SECRET DIARIES OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE

I don't usually read this much.  But taking a book to bed on these cold winter nights has been very enjoyable.  Thanks to Mary Silver for recommending this book.

In 1986 I visited Howarth parsonage in Yorkshire England with my husband. I will never forget the moors covered with heather so parallel to the moors I conjured up when I read Wuthering Heights. I have always loved the “Jane Eyre” story. I own the Masterpiece version with Timothy Dalton as Rochester. He is too handsome to be the real character but is so wonderful in the part I forgive his good looks. I never tire of  the four hours it takes to watch "Jane Eyre". After reading Syrie James’s lovely book I will enjoy this movie even more.


If James made a mistake in her writing of this book it was using the diary format. The story moves along with crisp first person story telling from Charlotte Bronte's point of view.  It feels more like a memoir, but every now and then Charlotte talks to the confound diary and I found it very irritating and distracting.


With that said I loved the book. I enjoyed getting to know the Bronte family; where they lived; about their writing process; their personal struggles; the life experiences that played out in their novels; the aspects of their successes and disappointments that I did not know—so well captured in believable language that Charlotte Bronte would approve, I believe.


Some parts of the ending veered off into the direction of a mass-market romance but not so far that it ruined it for me. The book had so much class I didn’t understand why James found this necessary. The afterward in the book is filled with actual letters and poetry written by the Brontes. I liked reading them as they gave some credibility to the authors research.  If you love Bronte literature you will enjoy this book.

CHILI SEASONING OR RUB AND GUACAMOLE

So many seasonings have msg poison that it is nice to be able to make your own rubs and seasonings without the fillers and other stuff you don't want.  This is something I always have on hand for making tacos or grilling chicken or fish with a Mexican flair.  It is also good in guacamole. 

1 Cup chili powder

¼ C. onion powder or granules

2 T. salt

¼ C. garlic powder
¼ C. cumin powder
¼ C. oregano leaves


Stir together. Use to season taco meat. For chicken or fish tacos rub chicken breasts or fish with olive or vegetable oil and sprinkle generously with the chili seasoning and broil until done or cook on a grill. Can be used to season chili beans. (Store in an airtight jar)

GUACAMOLE

I am a purest when it comes to guacamole, no onions or chopped tomatoes.  I want the avacado to be the entire show.  I also use Mayonaise, not sour cream, because it has a tartness to it that keeps it fresh and spunky if you don't want to use lemon or lime juices, which I don't. 

One avocado serves 2-3 people for tacos. If you are going to dip also you will need one avocado for every person (Unless they are Costco large).


Mash 1 ripe avocado, stir in 1/8 tsp. Garlic powder ¼ generous tsp. Chile powder (or ½ generous tsp. Chili seasoning mix recipe here). Paint 1/4 C. mayonnaise on the top until ready to serve then stir it in. 

BOOK REVIEW - PHANTOM

With Christmas over I have been curling up in the evening with a book so riveting that I was instantly bewiched by it.  This is a new version of the Phantom of the Opera story (1991).  I saw the stage play several times and loved the movie version, which I own.  Tara Thatcher recommended this book as I have been reading sequels.  This is the life story of Erick who becomes the Phantom.  His birth to a young indulged widow was disturbing as the baby arrives with a face disfigured to the point of uncontrollable revulsion.  I so wanted the mother to love the baby. I really didn't understand why she couldn't.  But her immaturity and societial conventions created a disturbing relationship between the mother and child.  From the beginning Erick has a supernatural genius with an understanding of music, architecture, science and magic, all of which create many interesting facets to the story.  From the cradle Erick's voice was hypnotic and anyone who hears him sing is overcome with beauty.  Erick  runs away at age 9 and is kidnapped by gypsies, the first of his tragic adventures.  

Susan Kay's writing is wonderfully lyrical, filled with angst, adventure, danger, romance and self discovery as we follow Erick through the intriguing experiences of his life.  His character is tragic and powerful as he attempts to find a place for himself in a world of revulsion and rejection.  I had empathy for his intense struggle with good and evil knowing how difficult this disfigurement was in a time of great superstition. 

The story is told in first person from the experience of several of the characters.  I liked focusing on different points of view.   

The last 100 pages of a 450 page book deal with Erick's opera house experiences.  I thought there were gaps and bumps in this part of the story as Kay tried to sort out the original story with the direction she wanted to take it.  The best part here was her first person accounts from Christine and then Erick.  Christine was realistic but fragile, as she needed to be, to get sucked in as she did.  She was alone, confused and vulnerable in the beginning.  She was unable to sort out her love from her empathy. Raoul's character was less prominant until the end when he wraps up the package.  The details and depth of the Phantom and Christine's experiences together had to happen in order for Kay to end the story as she did in a very surprising way. 

There is no explicit sex but one scene of eroticism, some murderous violence and drug use.  Amazon has 375 reviews of this book, 331 gave the book 5 stars and 18 gave it 4 stars.  This is a very compelling book. 

 

Real Meaning of Christmas

This is sweet and worth the 4 minutes

GLAD TIDINGS OF GREAT JOY BY MIKE ANDERSON

Mike wrote this for his home teaching lesson.  I think it is very thoughtful and inspiring.

I have been thinking recently of the word, “Tidings”. The angels said they brought “glad tidings of great joy.” This isn’t a word that we use much today, but was probably common in the time of the King James translation of the Bible. What does it mean? The dictionary says it means “news” or an announcement. It is used a number of times in the scriptures, including in the Book of Mormon and in the Doctrine and Covenants. One I like in the D&C gives us a little more insight into the meaning of the “ glad tidings”.


“And this is the gospel, the glad tidings, which the voice out of the heavens bore record unto us- That he came into the world, even Jesus, to be crucified for the world, and to bear the sins of the world, and to sanctify the world, and to cleanse it from all unrighteousness; That through him all might be saved whom the Father had put into his power and made by him.” D&C76:40-42


One of the things I like to do occasionally, not as often as I would like, is to commit a scripture to memory. It seems to me that when we do that, it becomes more meaningful than just words on the page. I particularly like ones that seem like a story. I did that this year at this Christmas time with one that I have thought about a number of times in the last year. I would like to try to convince you that it is a Christmas story. It certainly doesn’t seem like one- there are no sleigh bells, no chestnuts roasting on an open fire, and no snowy white Christmas. In fact, it takes place in a very arid, desert place. Water there is very scarce and precious, and we can imagine it is very dusty and hot, maybe in the 90 degree range. It goes like this:


“Then cometh he to a city of Samaria, which is called Sychar, near to the parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son Joseph. Now Jacob’s well was there. Jesus, therefore, being wearied with his journey, sat thus on the well. And it was about the 6th hour. There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water. Jesus saith unto her, ‘Give me to drink’. (For his disciples were gone away unto the city to buy meat.)


Then saith the woman of Samaria unto him, ‘How is it that thou, being a Jew, asketh drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria? For the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans’.


Jesus answered and said unto her: ‘If thou knewest the gift of God and who it is that saith to thee, give me to drink, thou wouldst have asked of him and he would have given thee Living Water’.
 The woman saith unto him, ‘Sir, thou hast nothing to draw with and the well is deep. From whence then, has thou that living water? Art thou greater than our father Jacob, which gave us the well, and drank thereof himself, and his children and his cattle’?


Jesus answered and said unto her, ‘Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again, but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst, but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water, springing up into everlasting life’.


The woman saith unto him, ‘Sir, give me this water that I thirst not, neither come hither to draw’. “
 After some discussion, the woman said to him, ‘I know Messias cometh, which is called Christ. When he is come, he will tell us all things’.


Jesus saith unto her, ‘I that speak unto thee am He’.” (John 4:5-14,25-26)


I think this is a Christmas story, because every person born in this world must make a decision. Was the babe born in Bethlehem going to be just a great teacher or even a prophet? Or would he actually have the power to give us the gift of everlasting life? If so, that would be cause for angels to announce “glad tidings of great joy, tidings of comfort and of joy”. It would be a reason for us to put evergreen trees in our homes symbolic of everlasting life and to decorate them. It would be a reason to put lights on our houses for the light of the world, to give presents as the wise men did and as he gave us the gift of everlasting life, to be generous with the less fortunate, and to gather friends and family close.


May you and your family have all the glad tidings this Christmas that “unto us a child is born… and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the EVERLASTING Father, the Prince of Peace in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

CRANBERRY SALSA

This came from Womansday magazine 12/6/05  I finally made it this year and it is different, festive and really very good. 

CRANBERRY SALSA

1 12 oz. bag fresh cranberries

1 granny smith apple, peeled, cored and cut in eights

1/2 red pepper, cut in large chunks

1/2 to 3/4 cup sugar (I used 1/2 and thought it was fine

1/2 medium red or sweet onion cut in large chunks

1/3 cup apple juice

3 T. chopped fresh cilantro

2 T. seeded chopped jalapeno pepper

1/2 - 1 tsp. fresh ground cumin

Chop coarsley in a food processor.  Store up to 2 weeks.  Serve with corn chips or crackers.  Pour some over a block of cream cheese for a colorful dip.

CHRISTMAS WHEN I WAS A KID

JACK, CHARMAINE AND CLIFFORD READY FOR CHURCH

This dress was my favorite Christmas present ever.  It was store bought, dusty rose chiffon with a matching purse.  It was my princess dress even with saddle oxfords.

CHRISTMAS WHEN I WAS A KID

It doesn’t matter if you are poor, if your dad is a crazy drunk, if your house is a basement with studs for walls, if four of you sleep in a small room, Christmas is still enchanted.


I had two Christmas philosophies that I espoused in early parenthood that I am rethinking. First of all I was mad at those Wise Men for bringing gifts to the baby Jesus. It really started something that I believe has gotten out of hand. But even in its excess I can’t deny the wonder and magic of gifts for children—especially in my day when we had so little. My parents didn’t buy toys and dolls except at Christmas and our birthdays. Nothing is more exciting to a child than anticipating Christmas morning. The Wise Men started the magic and for children the excitement is unique in its anticipation. In my world only children 12 years and under would get presents but it is what it is and there is joy in it all.
My second objection to Christmas was based in something I heard once that went like this: “You work all year to save and scrimp so you can buy Christmas for your children and then some red nosed fat man gets the credit.” But maybe he also gets that blame if you don’t have much. For little children the mystery and wonder of Santa is fun and the secrecy of his delivery method adds more than I might have realized especially when I remember what it was like to be a child when I believed. I now see the wisdom of Santa. The circle of life will eventually see believing children grown and giving Santa credit in their family. Maybe it is like the scripture in Matthew 6:3 - But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth.


My mother wasn’t a great housekeeper but at Christmas the worn linoleum was mopped and waxed, the tree sparkled, excitement burned, my mother baked and order prevailed. It gave us a sense that this time was more than special. Now days the decorating begins the day after Thanksgiving with many trees, garlands, wreaths and ornaments adorning every room and lights on every roof—not so in my day. My dad chopped a tree a few days before Christmas and we put it up on Christmas Eve or a couple of days before. We had colored electric lights with big bulbs and a few lights that looked like a bubbling candle. We had a box of colored glass balls and a straggly assortment of homemade ornaments and a star for the top. For me the excitement of the tree was the metal icicles. They came in a box and had to be separated into the long heavy strands. We saved them from year to year so they had to be carefully laid across the notched cardboard for safe keeping after each use. My mother was very fussy about how the icicles were put on the tree. If you didn’t want to spend the time to line them up on the branches you were excused from the process. My brothers would get tired and impatient and wanted to throw them on so they were usually given another assignment. My mother liked trees with space between the branches so the icicles would hang in shimmering lines. Oh, I could sit for hours and gaze at the magical shining tree. Before my home life was over they started making the icicles with silver plastic. They were limp and wrinkled. We hated them and worked even harder to save the heavy aluminum ones from year to year.


Our most unique decoration tradition was the clinker mountain. We burned coal in our stove and later in the furnace. Every day my dad would have to clean out the clinkers, a craggy rock like substance that is left when the carbon is burned off coal. Sometime before Christmas he would start looking for an interesting shape. I am not sure who discovered the chemistry of this but by pouring bluing, which was used in the rinse water to make clothes appear whiter, over the clinker it would grow puffy white crystals that looked like snow (It is possible this process had other ingredients. I only remember the bluing). It took several days so the procedure had to be started early. Then we took a trip to the Woolworth store or Coronets in Price to buy some miniature trees, deer and maybe Santa in a sleigh and place them around on the clinker to make a scene. We added things for several years. I remember pieces of mirror to make a pond and caves with tiny forest animals. The scene was enchanting in its homely simplicity.


We collected pinecones in the summer to make a pine cone wreath. The base was made with a doughnut shaped cardboard cutout covered with a thick layer of brown linoleum paste. By massing the pinecones together in the paste with some plastic berries and holly leaves a pretty wreath would be created. We made beautiful paper snowflakes and taped them in the window with a string of lights bordering the glass. Another popular homemade wreath was made by tying plastic bags around a coat hanger, formed into a circle, to create a strange white fluffy structure with a red ribbon bow. Everyone wanted one. The homely decorations are just as fun as the expensive ones when that is all you have and it looks like Christmas.


Today fruitcake is a joke but my mother made a delicious version with dried fruits and nuts, not those gummy things, and it was delicious. She made it for my Christmas time wedding. We made fudge and divinity especially the new-fangled marshmallow fudge that was no fail. We had big bowls of nuts in their shells waiting to be cracked as we sat around the tree in the evening. We often had a contest to see who could break out a Brazil nut whole. Peanuts in the shell were also a favorite. I never did this for my kids because it was too messy, consequently my kids never learned to like nuts like we do.


We hung up our stockings—the ones in our drawers—not the fancy things they have today. There was always an orange, some hard candy, a candy cane, and a few trinkets like marbles or jacks. I loved jacks and I was a champion player. My fingernails on my right hand grew crooked for years because I played jacks so much.


I liked dolls so I usually got one. My mother liked baby dolls so mostly I had a baby. My favorite doll had hair I could style. When my mother let me have at the sewing machine I made lots of quirky doll cloths and blankets with fabric scraps. I liked dishes and remember a little plastic set that I carried around for my tea parties. It had fancy little goblets for toasting. One special gift was a beautiful dusty rose chiffon dress with a matching purse. I recall it was the most exquisite thing I had ever seen—store bought, something I rarely had. (See photo)


When I got older I received a pair of ice skates. We skated a lot in the winter on the local ponds and rivers. It seemed water froze better in those days. Someone would get an old tire to burn to keep warm, but it was very stinky and smoky. I nearly frosted my feet once walking home through the snow in thin shoes after an afternoon of skating. We had a lot of fun. We did some sleigh riding also but mostly we skated.


The rural country Mormon church was a wonderful gathering place for parties, dances, Christmas programs, caroling and dinners. My mother sang with a group and I have so many warm memories of her beautiful Christmas songs. My life would have been sadly lacking without these social and religious gatherings.


When I was a young teen my brother Jack joined the Navy. He came home for Christmas after boot camp and brought the family a record player with two records, one of Johnny Cash and the other of Chet Atkins, the guitarist. We listened to these two records hundreds of times during that Christmas season. Today when I hear Johnny Cash sing it feels like Christmas to me. “How High’s The Water Mama?” is one of my favorite carols.


Most of us accept life as it comes to us and we can find joy in the simple and inexpensive. We don’t really need much to be content and excited as long as its uniqueness says Christmas. I think about how complicated we have made Christmas and I am not sure it has made the season better but it is all still good. I thank God for sending his Son and all the traditions that surround His novel birth. All of it has potential for joy when there is love and a family, no matter how wacky they are.