The Kimmy Files

Do I Need To Step Outside The Box? What Box? I Didn't Know I Was In One.

2012-02-02T13:04:00.002-07:00

Here we go; words of encouragement for the almost new year. Yes I know it is February 2, 2012, that is why I included almost and all I have to say is, "What &%$! box?" Have you ever seen it? I haven’t, so what is there to step out of?

Being a religious or spiritual person, if you will, I am usually a big believer in having faith in things unseen. In this case, however, "The Box" is just a figment of our insecurities. It can't possibly, remotely or even slightly be attributed to the imagination because it is simply too mundane to be from a place so magical or divine. Even the word is beautiful as she escapes your thoughts and floats around the room taking you to wonderful realms only possible in her company.

Have you ever seen a mime try to get out of his “box”? Apparently, so I’m told, watching this can be annoying, since, as I understand it, no one on the planet likes a mime. (I’m not really sure why; and if no one likes a mime why do mimes still exist?) … Anyway, "The Box" we are in is about as real and probably more annoying to ourselves and especially to our loved ones, as the "beloved" mime’s. Personally, I think the mime is getting a raw deal; at least he is trying to get out of his "box".

So, here are my words of complete and utter wisdom (I know I don't buy it either.) for the year. Just quit being afraid of literally nothing, a non-existent box! Do "It"; whatever "It" is that you want to do. You will find that not only are the sides of the box easy to break through, you will find they don't exist anywhere but inside your own head. Once you clear that ridiculously large dust collector out there will be so much more room for all the wonderful simple, complex, silly, serious, life changing, trivial, non-earth or earth shattering things you have been dreaming of doing. Oh by the way, you don't have to know how to go about doing any of it. Just start. Sometimes my lovely little family wishes I would step back inside my box. Too bad it disintegrated long ago.

Are you ready for the magic spell, those few words that will rid you of "The Box"? I have repeated them a thousand times and I know family and friends are tired of hearing them, but they make up the most freeing, insignificant, little giant phrase ever spoken to me. Are you ready? Drum roll please!

While studying watercolor with a wonderful watercolorist, Donna Barnes Roberts, I was worried about ruining a piece I had been working on for quite some time. After all if ruined, it would be gone, time would have been wasted and I would have failed. It was at this moment of frustration when Donna spoke those magical few words. "If you are not throwing away ninety-eight percent of what you do, you are not learning." It was as if the heavens opened that day! I could hear a chorus of angels singing. (Okay, Okay, very slight exaggeration.) ….but, if those words do not make for the most liberating phrase you have heard in a very long time, I’ll start eating candy again. Don’t tempt me now!

Go for it!!! I don't see a box, do you?

Until next time...

Redefining Yourself; How Can You When You Don't Know What You Are To Begin With? How Should I Know, Why Are You Asking Me?

2011-11-20T16:37:00.000-07:00

I keep hearing about women redefining themselves at my age. What the &%$*#!!! Does that mean anyway? I am still looking for the first definition. Anyone with me, anyone? Ballerina didn’t' work out too well; or famous singer (thanks a lot America's Got Talent) nor two time boutique owner. Never fear, super bridal gown designer to the rescue? How can one possibly define one's self when there are so many wonderful shiny new possibilities dangling right before one's eyes? As my ever devoted husband would say, "Ooh, look over there Kimmy, something shiny!" I get it, I am easily distracted. Can I help it if you can't define brilliance? (Choke!)

The important entity I am trying to define or redefine here at this particular moment, however, is not myself but the chaotic space I work in. I keep calling it my office but my entire family scoffs at the word whenever it leaves my lips; so here I am reaching out to the blogiverse asking, no begging, for your help; so if you are out there...

This space where I set my derrière,' stand, pace etc. and do any number of things which include: painting, jewelry making, getting my graduate gemology degree, designing wedding gowns, thinking about new home decor ideas, thinking about new boutique ideas, blogging, reorganizing, un-organizing, rearranging, un-arranging, taking down, putting up, draping fabric, cutting fabric, painting some more, making more jewelry studying some more, staring for hours due to exhaustion, staring for hours thinking, staring some more; but exclude: filing or any sort of office work what so ever.

I hope I have made my dilemma perfectly clear and have conveyed my desperate need of your help. Studio Just sounds so Stuffy. Please please please think of something to call it other than office. A made up name is perfectly fine; any suggestions?

...And since you asked. If anyone does happen to read this very important entry, I really do know what the most important definition of me is; wife, mother and last but not least gammie; anything else is just icing on a very sweet cake. ....So if you want my advice, and I am sure you do not, have no worries about defining or redefining, just enjoy life.

Until next time...

A Mom Is A Mom And A Kid Is a Kid And We're Off To See The Wizard!

2011-11-12T13:01:00.002-07:00

When thinking back on our mothers, their mothers and their mothers' mothers, I don't know about you but I always think about "grown-ups". My mother was always a "grown up". (Something I have yet to achieve.)

While rifling through my dad's files trying to find his birth certificate, so he could prove he is a citizen for his driver’s license renewal (oh brother), I found evidence that our mothers, their mothers so forth and so on may not always have been "grown-ups"! I know this comes as a great shock, I would not believe it myself had I not seen it with my own eyes but, believe it or not, it's true. Our mothers their mothers and yes even, do I dare say it, our mothers' mothers and possibly beyond were once children and by being children it means they were daughters themselves. There I said it; our mothers were daughters not always "grown-ups" who had mothers themselves and their mothers likewise. I understand this is a huge bite to swallow, so feel free, take a moment if you must, ponder it, let it sink in, no worries I am not going anywhere. I can wait until you are ready to continue.

This magnificent earth shattering discovery I, Kimmy alone, have made for all womankind as it turns out, revealed my mother had been a child and my grandmother a mother etc. It rocked me to my core to know these women in ways I had not. Discovering this about my own ancestry one must assume, get ready, your mothers were children once too. Do You need smelling salts, diet coke, to lie down?

My Grandparents had my mother late in life. They were married in 1914 and had long given up hope of having a child, but in 1927 the "stork" delivered my mother an only child. My Grandmother, Viola, being overjoyed kept every record, picture clipping imaginable. My own mother kept very good records as well, unfortunately I didn't inherit the trait. After seeing the records they kept, I am sorry for that now. I will do better? Who am I kidding!

I did inherit two things I know of. I love the wizard of oz and I love to give parties. My mother gave me great parties and her mother gave her great parties. My mother lived in a company town during and after the great depression. The town was just outside Death Valley in California and they mined potash. The name of the town was Trona and it was literally a dust bowl but to hear my mother talk about it, it sounded like heaven. When I discovered this article clipped from the town newspaper which covered her birthday party I think she might have been right. The article explains the wizard of oz.

Wow, my mom is a kid here and my grandmother is a mom. I need to stop and ponder for a minute. I found a letter from my great grandmother to my grandmother giving motherly advice and support. I need another moment. My grandmother is now a daughter and my great grandmother a mother. Her advice to her daughter is eerily similar to advice my mother gave to me, which is eerily similar to advice I have given to my daughters and wait a minute... now I am watching my daughter do what I have done. whoa, don't tell me; could this be a continuous cycle? Maybe my mother, her mother etc. never felt like "grown-ups' either?

Happy pondering.

Until next time...

An Old, (Not In Age {That's Debatable}) Gratefully, Un-Wise Soul. Let Me Explain. I Know, I Always Have To.

2011-10-29T17:31:00.000-06:00

When I first started writing The Kimmy Files, I can't be sure, but I think I mostly made it clear that I was writing this for whoever could or could not care less about this blog including my own beloved children and dearest husband. I believe I mentioned I belonged to.... drum roll please....The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Whew, long one, but that is the church's official name. The nick name, we are more commonly known by is the Mormons. Yes I belong to that mysterious cult. (That was sarcastic.) We aren't a cult. I don't know Warren Jeffs personally. (Also sarcastic.) We don't practice polygamy. I have, however, met Robin, the newest of the "Sister Wives", a popular reality show on TLC portraying a more mainstream version of polygamy. She is a delight. I met her in a local Wal-Mart while they still lived in Lehi, Utah. I wanted to assure her that while I did not practice her faith, I thought what she and her family were doing was brave and I respected their right to practice their faith freely and disagreed with the city of Lehi Utah's desire to bring legal action against them (As no laws seem to have been broken{Not a lawyer.}). I also mention this, because I want the general public to be sure that in no way shape or form do they participate in, or condone the horrible, abusive and criminal community that hide behind the facade of religion the men who follow Warren Jeffs participate in. ...and, a big yes, I have gotten off track. Big surprise!

(Props to Robin and the rest of the family. Good luck in Vegas. I hope everyone is treating you well. You deserve it. You are doing a very difficult thing.)

Back to topic. What was it? Oh, yes. Grateful I'm not wise, etc., etc., blah, blah, blah,.

The reason I mention I am Mormon again, is that a wonderful woman, Adriana Tueller, who I admire very much, was able to get a lovely scripture from the Book of Mormon through my head when she taught the women in Relief Society last Sunday. The Scripture she recited to us was Alma 37:6-7. I had obviously heard and read the scripture before. (Okay, possibly only heard, but very possibly read.) Since obviously, unwise as I am, as simple as it was, simple minded me, just didn't get "It".

Alma 37:6-7

6: Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise.

7: And the Lord God doth work by means to bring about his great and eternal purposes; and by very small means the Lord doth confound the wise and bringeth about the salvation of many souls.

To say I get "It" now could be, how should I put it, unwise? But, perhaps I do. This is after all only my opinion. Being admittedly, and ever gratefully, unwise, one must undoubtedly form one’s own. If we were to cross reference this Book of Mormon scripture with a New Testament scripture, (Alright already, I didn't come up with the scripture on my own. Get over it!) 1 Corinthians 2:14 we may see that the Lord wants us to continue to be teachable.

1 Corinthians 2:14

14: For the natural man received not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.

As that cool DJ what’s His Name in Yo Gabba Gabba might say, "Let's break it down." What? What? Sorry, too much Nick Jr. with my granddaughter Zu Zu.

Back on track, I just can't be serious for too long. It isn't in me. I apologize for any sacrilege, apparently not enough to edit.

In the scriptures from Alma, I have highlighted phrases including the words: small and simple, things, means, confounds, wise, brings to pass, salvation, many, and souls. In the scripture from 1 Corinthians I have highlighted phrases including the words: natural man, spirit of God, and spiritually discerned.

As I go back and look at these together it becomes very profound to me. All joking aside, these three seemingly insignificant little verses, in a very real way, define the meaning of life to me, my meaning of life, anyway. It is truly very, very simple. We none of us have to be "wise" "all knowing". We don't have to be Buddha, Gandhi, or Mother Theresa. We do need to be kind. We must be kind. That is really all I have taught, well what I think is the most important thing I have taught my children anyway.

My sister-in-law Cindy used to tease me a little. I think she thought all she ever heard me say to my kids was, "Be nice." At times, I thought I may have been teaching them to be weak. Maybe I thought I wasn't teaching them to stand up for themselves. They are grown now, for the most part. As I look back, I don't regret it. It is the single, most important thing I taught them. We must be kind. It is simple. Very simple. So perhaps, in this regard, we should be a little bit Mother Theresa. Be kind. That is my meaning of life. Don't bother asking me how I got that out of the verses I quoted. I just did. I didn't say it made sense I get “be kind” out of everything.

Let's go on shall we? Off track a little, you really aren't surprised are you, especially after the first paragraph? Come on now! The rest makes more sense, maybe. Decide for yourself. You should know me by now. No sympathy from me. You chose to read it. No one held a gun to your head.

Let me try to explain the truth as I see it, my testimony. You must find out for yourself.

The natural man as we read in Corinthians is us on our own; without God. As the natural man we use wisdom we fabricate by ourselves. That is why perhaps some of the wise men of science don't understand that God is the greatest scientist of all. I hope, as mankind, we don't really believe we are smarter than the universe, than God. It is unfathomable to me that in the short amount of time that written history has existed, that we believe we have even scratched the surface of the science of the creator. May I suggest God is logic, science, if you will; he is all that we have not learned and therefore he certainly does not exclude science. He is Science.

I am sure our very learned and, I hope, teachable scientists, who by their own admissions are in the infant stages of understanding our vast universe, are surely humble enough to include God in science. It seems to me, the gratefully unwise, a simple conclusion, that we simply won't understand the simple logic of his science until we meet him. While we are here on earth we have to rely on God for spiritual truth, discerning. We have to trust him, have faith in him. We can't, we mustn't, rely on the natural man. We simply don't know enough. We are infants ourselves. We must rely on God.

Life was not meant to be fair or just. We don't know why bad things happen to good people. That is why Christ came. He didn't just atone for sins, he atoned for pain, suffering, heartache, dying, everything hard. Everything. If we try to understand, to comprehend, “why me, why them, why that child, why that family, why that race, why that religion, they were so good?” Why? Why? Why? We cannot and must not spend all our time wondering; it is too much. It is just too much. We could not do what we are sent here to do. That is to learn, to love, to be kind, to become better; to try, as futile as it may be, to become more like him. That is why it is simple. We trust. We have faith. We hope. We pray. We are kind. That is why simple is hard. That is why I am grateful I am not wise. We will understand when we meet him.

If we open ourselves to hope with the desire to desire help or hope from our Heavenly Father, he is there to give it. It does not matter what peril we have put ourselves in. You can start with faith much, much smaller than a mustard seed. For that matter, faith isn't even necessary. Hope is enough. Remember, the Lord said faith the size of a mustard seed moves mountains. I don't personally know a single soul with that kind of faith. The first sentence of this paragraph was a little strange perhaps, “the desire to desire.” A person may not know if they even want help or religion, whatever you want to call it. Maybe they don't know if there is a god, a savior, whatever. What if a person doesn't even know if they want to know? ...A desire to desire to desire to know if they want to know, it can be infinite. That is enough. The answers will come. Don't just be open minded, be openhearted.

…about prayer. I heard something wonderful once, “There have only been two prayers ever offered. One was thanks, the other was help." Enough said.

This is my testimony, many things I have written here are opinion, what I write now is not. What I write now I know, whether you believe it or not is up to you. Jesus is The Christ, he atoned for the world, there is a living prophet, there is prophecy on the earth today, faith, hope and charity are key, families are forever and for that, I am eternally grateful. We must be kind. This is all that matters.

If this seems self-indulgent, I make no apology, as I said before this is for my children and my husband mostly. ...and maybe for myself.

Until next time....

To Be or Not to Be, A Visionary; That, Is The Question. What The.....?

2011-10-13T13:03:00.000-06:00

vi·sion·ar·y/ˈviZHəˌnerē/

Adjective:

(esp. of a person) Thinking about or planning the future with imagination or wisdom: "a visionary leader".

Noun:

A person with original ideas about what the future will or could be like.

Synonyms:

adjective. fanciful - imaginary

noun. dreamer - daydreamer

Enough already!

What I am trying to say is being a "visionary" (ooh la la) can be a royal pain in the... You know what I'm saying. You start with a wonderful picture in your head. A beautiful dream. Mine is returning the beautiful me to my husband. Don't misunderstand. By no means do I mean the twenty five, thirty or even forty year old me. I said the beautiful me. By that I mean the vibrant healthy trim, fit, me. The dancing aerobic me. I enjoy the dignity of lines in my face. I am not without vanity, I'm an honest woman, however, I am woman. I will have I neck lift I WILL, I TELL YOU, I WILL! AS GOD AS MY WITNESS, ME NOR ANY OF MY FOLK WILL EVER BE GOBBLE NECKED AGAIN! (Okay Scarlet give it a rest.)

{How do you do a side note? Anybody? Need I go on? I try to explain the inner workings of my exceptional, choke, (Do I even need to type lol?) "visionary" mind, and I end up trying to be Scarlet O'Hara. Won't some one pleeeaaase help me?}

For example, let's start with my morning. No. Let's start with last week. That is when life as I know it began again for me. Dramatic, I know but true. A very long story. I will share I promise, but not today. Not ready. Where was I? Oh yes, that visionary thing. This morning? No, last week. Monday? Yes, Monday.

Monday, October 3, 2011, bypass surgery, scared out of my mind, recovery, recovery, boring, boring, boring, blah, blah, honestly not that bad. It you are contemplating it. Go for it. I will address it another time. Focus Focus Focus. Over it. Zoom in this morning.

Vision?

Your guess is as good as mine? I was arranging my pretty stilettos in my closet, la la la la la, felt happy and found myself here. I'm sure I'll arrive at that beautiful picture, my "Vision", sometime. In the meantime, the process is going to be.... Who knows... That's a question, who knows? ...Could you get back to me?

Check out "A Work of Art. The Next Great Artist" on Bravo. I just discovered it. That is what got me thinking all this crazy stuff. I don't recommend your kids watch without parents viewing ahead of time. Some people have some disturbing "visions".

Go figure.

Until next time.

An Actual Concern; Our Kids Health; Albuterol and the EPA

2011-10-11T12:09:00.001-06:00

The following is an email I sent (I know lame) to the capitol. Yes THEEEE capitol! Anywaaaay, I thought it was important, and I have neveeeeeer done anything like this before. reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaly!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Honest.

It is about Asthma medication. Please read and if you agree share the information. Thanks and Hugs.

Until next time.

URGENT!! CHILDREN’S HEALTH

Are We Too Green?

I consider myself to be a fairly liberal conservative. I have removed myself from either party and have established myself as an independent.

With my address being in Utah, one would assume I am staunchly pro-life. Not so. With age comes reserved judgment.

I believe education is the answer to difficult moral questions as to what is best for each individual woman and her child. Every human being has a unique situation. The truth of all options should be taught. I believe in being open minded and truly nonpartisan. I vote on issues.

I hope this demonstrates a reasonable person is the author of this statement concerning an environmental assault that has occurred on the poor and infirm of this, our Great Nation.

I am referring to the EPA ban of Albuterol. It is the most inexpensive treatment for asthma available and is very effective. (I know this, because I have taken it.) It is tragic that we look to extinguish a lifesaving drug as a way to please a less than majority base; on this particular issue. If these decision makers took a step back and re-thought the issue, they would clearly see the death sentence they are pronouncing on many children, poor, and elderly that benefit from this drug.

I realize the intentions are good. The EPA believes the planet will be saved; “Mother Nature" herself. News flash: We the PEOPLE; we are a big, big, part of "Mother Nature".

With this decision the EPA has sentenced some of "Mother Nature's" children to death. I understand the base of environmental politics. I too, love the environment. I love beautiful mountains, clean fresh water.

Clean air. British Petroleum, yeauch! I get it, I really do. BUT. I also know that very same earth friendly life loving base does not like the loss of life or believe in the death penalty. I have witnessed demonstrations against the death penalty whenever it is to be carried out. Here is the chance for them to show the American people they are not hearing empty words or witnessing empty demonstrations.

Please EPA; listen to the real message of the base you wish so eagerly to please. Pardon the poor, children, elderly and infirm of this country by taking back the ban of Albuterol Asthma inhaler. Don't sentence them to potential death for one blade of grass.

(This EPA decision does not cause me any negative personal consequence.)

Thank You Forgetful Girl and I LoveThe Queen Mary

2011-03-19T01:49:00.003-06:00

I am not a good camper. For those who know me, this comes as no great shock. I enjoyed camping as a small child clueless, as children often are, of the back breaking work involved. Mother took care of everything, and the experience was consistent and comforting. I watched my mother start packing vital food stores. Hershey bars, marshmallows and graham crackers, among the most important, at least three weeks ahead of the annual trip. As she finished filling each box or bag, it would go neatly in the entry hall, ready to go where the fun was. She even had a special camping purse, with a first aid book published who knows when and a wonderful camping dress or two, one pale yellow and one mint green, packed away after each annual jaunt, to be taken out a year later for the next adventure. (Mother never wore pants,) She also had canvas Keds for the sole purpose of camping. They were never worn at any other time, only camping. It can't go without saying, wearing them even to the grocery store would be wholly inappropriate. (Far too casual.) I even have the enamel wash basin that washed both the dishes and me. I hated to be dirty. All that was expected from me was to have the time of my life. Mom took care of the rest.

I tried camping once with my small children. Packed it in after one night. That was the end of that. After that fiasco I was in eternal awe of my mother, and Denise Jones. (shout out Denise if you ever happen to discover this obscure little blog.)

What, you ask, does any of this have to do with Forgetful Girl and the Queen Mary? Keep your panties on, I'm getting there.

The Queen Mary, as my enduring husband has dubbed her, is the fifth wheel camping trailer I am camping in at this moment, WI FI provided by the "camp ground". He says it is the longest trailer in the entire world, and he hates hates hates, towing it. But the love, that he is, does it for me. I have a king size bed where ever I go fit for a queen. (Satin trimmed blankets a necessary comfort.)

Forgetful Girl is my oldest daughter who is more scattered brained than I am. (almost) She forgets everything, loses everything, leaves Christmas gifts unused and at my house for years at a time. Never ever has enough wipes or Desitin for my darling grand daughter Margaret ZuZu. Yes ZuZu is her middle name. Named after George Bailey's daughter in It's a Wonderful Life. The reason being; George finds ZuZu's crushed flower petals in his pocket, a reminder that no matter what trials or hard ships faced, family is what is worth living for.

So what do these two things have in common? I'm getting to it. Again, if you know me, the fact that I generally make short stories long rather than long stories short also comes as no great shock.

Two years ago we all took a trip in the "Queen Mary". Knowing that FG (Forgetful Girl) gets that mad skill (forgetting) from me, I packed brand new baby outfits, burp cloths (never ever had one in the diaper bag) and of course wipes and the ever absent Desitin. We were set.

Embarrassing as it is to admit, that was the last time we cruised the "Queen Mary". As I explained earlier, Hubby hates to tow it.

Well here we are cruising the ocean of highway to my son's horse competition. Darling hubby captaining the ship.

We arrive at the dock, get Her Majesty set up. Push outs pushed out , bed made (satin trimmed blanket in place. (crucial) . I take a satisfied look around my cruise ship on wheels, (not bragging, simply mocking my admittedly ridiculous requirements) and there it is, everything I had packed for Margaret, still brand new, still packed, in the middle of the trailer floor, forgotten.

A natural first thought might be one of exasperation over money wasted on brand new out grown items. Again, those who know me are not shocked to here wasted money almost never enters my mind. All money is to me are lovely sheets of green paper, or a truly spectacular array of designs one can choose to put on a shiny plastic card. The bank just gives them out! Hard to believe, I know, but it is the absolute truth. (We can talk about financial consequences later. This is a happy post.)

Since none of the above entered my mind, I went through the basket full of tiny baby treasures. Breathed it all in, and relived a moment. Not a common occurrence. Luckily I have FG and she had generously given the moment back. That trip little Margaret belonged only to me. We stayed, played and cuddled together on board our luxury liner, while everyone else went out to have "fun". I smelled her new baby perfume, better than any bottle of Chanel No. 5, and cooed her new baby coos. Just Gammie and ZuZu.

Little tiny, nearly newborn, Margaret ZuZu and Gammie were the ones having fun. I got to relive it tonight. Thank you my dear Forgetful Girl.

Until next time...

In Search of our Noble Ancestors...".You Gotta Hear This!!! " or, " Now I Know Why My Family is Nuts"

2011-03-17T18:42:00.000-06:00

My kids are getting tired of my new interest, and yes, it can be difficult to endure stories about this granny or that granny, and do you realize that you are #3,598,679,100 in line for the British Monarchy!!! I can't believe our last name isn't Windsor. Just imagine we're royals. (almost).

There are many reasons to research ancestry. In some cases the reasons are religious. In other cases it is wanting to know where you come from. How many nationalities are in your tree. Solve burning family mysteries. Simple curiosity. Find that ultra rich ancestor and curse him for leaving all of the "family" fortune to that good for nothing son who squandered it all away three hundred years ago. Now there is none left to go around. Do you know how rich a person could be right now? I know I would be doing so well that I would be stealing $2500.00 one of a kind necklaces and have the paparazzi all over me. Oh what I've missed!

If anyone out there thinks like I do, (heaven forbid), it is assumed that everyone who came before lived in a sparkling rose colored snow globe world, where nothing went wrong and Mr. and Mrs. Charming lived happily ever after. Luckily,the truth is sooo much more interesting.

While friends share heroic stories of ocean crossings where Grandpa MacStrongly literally carried the crippled ship on his shoulders, kicking madly, while his dutiful wife hollowed out the center of three ores, connecting one atop the other, then, with sheer will and her petite, but busty frame, held the super snorkel steady, in raging waters, so, her hero, her knight in shining Armour, could breath until all reached the shore and safety.

Admit it, most of us have one of those "tales" in our background. Not me, every time I think I have found the family hero, a slight wrinkle appears. For example: the story of, "Our Family's Very Own Fighter for Religious Freedom"

It begins with a well respected family, coming to America, settling in the earliest of the glorious colonies that began this great nation of ours. The father, I believe his name to be James, signed the Mayflower Compact. He had a son named John, who at first glance seems to be "Our Very Own Fighter for Religious Freedom." aka OVOFFRF. His fight was with the established church and unjust Sabbath Day laws if one were to believe differently. He even spent the last third of his life, after forming his own religious sect, fighting for the cause. At last our hero appears. Oh yeah! The wrinkle.

A historian writes, "The Rogerenes were a sort of Quaker, who had their origin and name from one John Rogers of New London." I guarantee the Quakers didn't claim him or them. "He was a man of unbounded ambition and wished to be something more than the common man...to gratify his pride." Now, as a wise man once said, "heeres theee rest of the story".

Clearly below we will see why the wonderful Quaker faith might take umbrage at the comparison.

OVOFFRF methods of "bringing down The Man", so to speak, would be on the controversial side today.

I'll just make a list.

1. Goes to church naked. Since OVOFFRF and his Rogerenes observed a Saturday sabbath they would enter public assemblies on "The Lord's day" "nearly or quite naked...behaving in wild tumultuous ways, crying out and charging the most venerable of ministers with lies and false doctrines." Oh my!

2. Disturbing the peace. "...tuned their pipes and screamed, roared, shouted and stamped."

3. Wife something? When OVOFFRF's wife had had enough she was granted a divorce, then married a very nice gentleman. Her ex didn't get it. He tried to kidnap her from the bed of her new beloved.

4. Oh yeah, he burned down a church.

5. Finally, he was immune to all disease. He went to Boston during a smallpox epidemic, sat by the afflicted and announced he was safe from the disease. Triumphant he returned home and a few days later dies of smallpox. Happily we end the story of OVOFFRF. There is just one more tiny wrinkle; when he gets home from Boston he exposes his daughter-in-law and his grandson, and takes them with him.

As mentioned above, there are many reasons to research your ancestors. I decided with this little family blotch, I uncovered a great family mystery. "Now I Know Why My Family is Nuts"

Until next time...

Embrace "It". Okay I Will, But I Don't Want to. I Hate Roller Coasters.

2011-02-15T13:18:00.000-07:00

So I suppose, that possibly, I was in a "mood" the last time I wrote to whoever is, or is not, out there reading. I may have sounded just a tad cynical. I am sometimes sad. Sometimes discouraged. Sometimes I want to quit. Quit what, I'm not sure. But generally, I am not cynical.

Quitters are usually looked upon in a negative light. Perhaps, quitting is good, depending on what the quitter wants to quit. When one is on a roller coaster it is impossible to make it go in the opposite direction unless you are the ride operator. So, when we get on we throw our hands in the air and yield to the will of the "Operator." We are frightened at first, or maybe the entire ride, but when we get off, we are glad we did it. We are glad we ultimately got on, no matter how scary the ride. When we disembark there is a sense of accomplishment. We did it. We let go of control and yielded to the will of the ride.

I read something this morning, from a letter, some one special wrote to me many years ago. "Your life will be one of joy and success as a result of your devoting yourself to the things that are more lasting and important than those of mortality."

So, I guess, I'm saying that life is a roller coaster and God is the operator? Where the heck did that come from?

It is difficult, but I will try to quit making the roller coaster go backward. Birth, school, marriage, children, aging, gaining weight, losing weight, illness, heartache, loss, indescribable joy, love, sadness, happiness. All are part of this "Roller Coaster" of an earth life we live, and if we will yield to the will of our Heavenly Father who loves us unconditionally, and individually, it will be easier to embrace "It", no matter where "it" is we are in our lives.

Until next time...

Hot Flash, Weight Gain, Oh Joy, I Have Been Planning For This Day Since I Was a Little Girl.

2011-02-13T21:15:00.000-07:00

I am turning forty-nine this year. I don't imagine people assume I am lying, as they do when one says twenty-nine is the new number, unless perhaps, forty-nine is the new twenty-nine. Maybe we could start a campaign. One bright spot; when I told the doctor my age, he was surprised. He would have guessed younger. I told him that would be the fat filling in all the wrinkles. No Botox for me! This almost wrinkle free face is all mine, but so is the rather, shall we say, Reubenesque rear end. I would love to think that last line was funny, but somehow I don't.

If you are under forty and reading this, feel free to laugh, but believe me, it won't be the last laugh. I will save that for myself when you turn forty-nine.

It is a curious trick nature plays on the poor unsuspecting woman. We see our grandmothers when we are small. They are women that, shall we say, may or may not have aged gracefully. We watch our mothers age as we enter our prime that is, without question, eternally ours. We scoff at the possibility that could be us someday. We grow up blissfully, counting the days until our first date, our first kiss, the fairy tale love that comes with the most beautiful, all important, white princess gown on a day that belongs to us alone, and I suppose the groom. Finally, the practically perfect, lovely and intelligent, babies that we and our prince charming will make.

And they lived happily ever after. Refer to picture perfect bride and groom at the top of the blog.

How can it be that we think time stops with the practically perfect intelligent babies? Sure those older women admire our babies in their practically perfect prams and tell us, "Enjoy this now, it goes by in the blink of an eye." At best we are polite and humor this foreign species of woman, with an, "I am so sorry you are old." smile. Why is it we didn't believe them?

I believe them now. I believed them when, what seemed like the very next day, I was on the receiving end of one of those "I am so sorry you are old." smiles.

When in the hell did this happen? I don't remember getting "older". I feel the same on the inside, I just don't look quite the same on the outside.

Just know, that when we "older women" tell you, "Enjoy this now, blah blah blah." It will come as a complete surprise to you, as well, when that day comes, and it will, during your eternal prime and we, old women by then, can say, "I told you so."

Until next time...

Do Angels Have Wings Here, There, or Anywhere?

2011-02-10T16:45:00.000-07:00

Do you think angels have wings? I don't. But, in considering angels and wings, I realized that they give us wings, if we let them. ...And how they make us soar.

In my very first entry I wrote about looking backwards. I am definitely looking forward now. Looking beyond the here, now and back then. Perhaps the reversal in view is due to feeling more mortal as I get older. Whatever the reason, I am grateful for new perspective.

Supposing for a moment that angels don't have wings; what or who are angels? I believe it is a job given to people just like us. It could be before we arrive here, while we are here, or after we leave. I can't speak of before I was "here". I don't remember it. Experience tells me, angels minister over all of us that are "here", and the angel could be from "here" or "there". Huh?

Angel #1: Debbie, a vibrant, funny, happy, crazy little girl. We played constantly from the second grade, until I moved away when I was eleven. After that we visited each other two or three times a year and were brides maids in each others weddings.

Debbie had Cystic Fibrosis. While an adult might shy away from asking uncomfortable questions, children do not. I remember asking Debbie if she was afraid of dying. She wasn't. She always went through life with a happy hopeful attitude. Hopeful to the point that she married and had beautiful baby boy. Something Doctors thought impossible.

When her little guy was two my dear friend passed away. We were both 25. I tried to see her her before she was gone, but I was unable to. The call came before I could finish packing. I wanted to say good bye.

Several months later I attended a church service in a very special place. By coincidence (I don't think so) her favorite aunt was also in attendance. We had not laid eyes on each other since I was a little girl. After the service was over, I found her and told her I was "Kimmy", Debbie's friend. She knew me instantly. While we talked for a time, we realized neither one of us had said goodbye. I know, with the Lord's help, Debbie brought us together in that sacred place so we could both say our good bye's. From that moment on, I knew without a doubt that there is much more for us after we are finished with mortality. I also new that Heavenly Father loves me and knows each one of us individually. He has to. He gave such personal comfort in a world full of infinitely more significant problems. He allowed a small good bye to take place for just two, of his multitudes of daughters, in such a beautiful way. Debbie is an angel "there".

Angel #2: Margaret is my mother in law. I say this even though she has passed, because I know she is still watching over my husband. Margaret was ill all of my husbands life. She was so ill that he never knew if she would be at home or the hospital when he would return from school. As a teenager he tended to surgical wounds, told his mother every detail of his life, and strove never to do anything that would break her heart. He did not take his mother for granted. He knew her time here was uncertain.

Margaret always said that she picked her trials here on earth. She was grateful that the trials she faced involved only her health. Because of the trials she chose she felt blessed that she was spared the pain of wayward children. She was the luckiest woman on the earth. No matter how ill she was she was always happy. My mother in law was an angel "here". Because of her trials, my husband became the man he is. She taught him patience, compassion, and never to take his loved ones for granted. And that, he has never done. I married a great man and he is a great man because of the angel that raised him.

Angel #3: My mother taught me to have compassion, empathy, and charity (the pure love of Christ) while I was a child. She taught me to understand peoples weaknesses; whether physical, mental or spiritual. Being able to teach a child those principles, by anyone's definition, should make her an angel "here". For me, she is an angel "there". I feel her hold me up through the darkness, because she has been there. She comforts me from the light, because she is there. She is the woman I always knew, as I was looking backward.

Until next time.

Suzie and Zuzu and The Full Circle

2009-03-22T13:45:00.007-06:00

Well, it certainly has been a while! I have really missed writing to anyone or no one or whoever is interested or disinterested in what I have to say. As I have said before, I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. This is not a religious blog and my intent in writing is in no way meant to sway anyone to what I personally believe. However, it is important to know how I get my perspective on life, death or whatever else may fortunately or unfortunately come my way, and since my thoughts are on birth and death right now, it is hard to keep spiritual beliefs at bay. That having been said, doesn't every one's spiritual beliefs or lack thereof make up every perspective on birth, death and whatever? Being a woman also brings a different perspective, and adding motherhood to that still another.

I tell you once again these are my thoughts only and in this entry they come from my faith, being a woman and motherhood.

Hello to Margaret Zuzu Bingham who just happens to be the most beautiful child ever born (Until the next grandchild that is mine comes along). For anyone who knows a new grandma, or has been one, all we do is brag, bore and brag to anyone who is too polite to walk away. Being a new member of the Grandma club, I truly believe that every person I run into actually cares and wants to hear endless talk about Zuzu and how truly remarkable, intelligent, aware, already walking, talking, reading, singing and playing the piano she is. All of this and she will be just six weeks tomorrow!!!

Zuzu arrived noonish on February 9, 2009 healthy and truly happy. All bias aside, she is probably the most contented baby I have ever encountered. Delivery went quickly and Megan and Riley were kind enough to let me be there when she arrived. Never mind the fact that I have given birth four times, this time was the first time I truly witnessed the miracle. It was a wonderful experience and I am over the moon. Zuzu is cuddly, loving and aware. It feels like she can look right into you. There is something serious and contemplative in her and as any proud Grandmother would, I am awaiting great things from her.

Goodbye to Susan Arlene Terry. Suzie is my sister in law. I say "is" because I know she is still very much with us even though she passed away Saturday, March 14, 2009. I say "know" because of my faith. Many may think I just believe but this is not the case. I know.

I know Suzie a little better than I know Zuzu simply because I have been here with her longer. I don't presume to know Suzie as well as her husband, children, brothers or sisters know her, but what I do know is that if any one person can define fire cracker, it would be Suzie. She is a force to be reckoned with. If anyone can get something accomplished it is Suzie. She fiercely loves her family, has a happy outlook and a great sense of humor. She taught me to laugh at myself and find humor in any situation. My mother in law is much the same way. Again I say "is" not "was".

As I watched little Zuzu arrive, I knew she was leaving a loving home to come and reacquaint herself with people she already knew. She and all of us existed before we came here. We all came from a loving Heavenly Father and left people who love us to embark on this great adventure called mortality. I think that we were all a little apprehensive or nervous, but excited never the less, to take the next step in our eternal progression and experience life here on Earth. I assume that we were a little sad to leave loved ones behind that may or may not have had their turn on Earth yet. Some loved ones may have said goodbye knowing what was coming our way having already experienced it, and others may have said goodbye anxious to join us and start their wonderful new adventure. It is exactly the same when we exit this life. We leave loving arms and return to loving arms.

I don't believe in death. Yes, we leave a shell behind temporarily, but we go on. We progress. There is still much to accomplish, much to do and much to learn. We are in no way finished with life. We have an eternity left to live, love, experience and accomplish. I prefer to think of death as another birth. Suzie left people who love her and is getting reacquainted with loved ones she had been missing from her time here and from before she got here. She will be sending loved ones off to come here just as her family sent her off. Life truly is a circle, (I know, I know, how cliche!) but instead of birth to death I know it is really birth to birth.

In some ways being a mother makes this easier to understand. Life is a lot like pregnancy. When you are first pregnant, the thought of giving birth is daunting. No one wants to do it. We love the outcome, but we just aren't sure we can make it through labor. It is hard and it is scary, but by the time the ninth month rolls around we are ready for the next step. I haven't heard of one mother who wouldn't do anything to get that baby out. I think life is the same way. When we first get here there is so much to experience, do and learn. Hopefully, we have people who love us and people to love. We never want to leave, and thinking about leaving is more than we can bare, but when Heavenly Father is ready for us to come back home he gives us a gift. He gives us peace, and when the time comes we go. We are ready. The loved ones we leave behind may not be ready for us to go, but the people waiting for us to arrive are so happy to see us.
There is so much to experience, do and learn. If those left behind desire comfort, comfort is there to be had. It will be given by those who love us here and those who love us there. We just need ask, and in the Lords time it will come.

Until next time.....

The Joy Is In The Journey...(I know, because the destination is a complete mystery!)

2009-02-01T19:29:00.013-07:00

One of my family's favorite movies is Joe Vs. the Volcano with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. We were pretty sure the reason it was a flop was because people just weren't as intelligent as we were. (That's a joke.) I really do feel, though, that it is a great allegory on life. Forgive me, but, it is such an old movie, I don't feel bad giving the end away. Naturally, Joe and Meg's character (sorry I don't remember her character's name) fall in love. Joe, set to be sacrificed to the gods, readies himself for his big jump into the volcano. Meg wants to marry him before he jumps. The two have a quickie wedding and the loving wife she is, decides to take the leap with him. With eyes closed they jump in and low an behold the volcano spits them out into the ocean, the island sinks into the sea and Joe's seemingly indestructible travel trunks pot up to save the day. Joe and his true love get them hooked together and climb aboard. As they snuggle on the trusty luggage, (it must be Louis Vuitton) Meg can't believe how lucky they are, and admires the luster of the full moon. Joe, the more pessimistic of the two, points out that while the moon is lovely and it was indeed fortunate that the luggage appeared they were, after all, stranded in the middle of the ocean. Meg, the more optimistic, simply said, "It's always going to be something with you, isn't it Joe."

The best way I know to start something is to jump right in. Motherhood is probably the best example. Once you are in, there is no way out. You can't be a little pregnant. You either are or you're not. The wedding day is definitely a leap into the unknown. As a woman, marriage and children tend to come fairly naturally. Both are difficult, exasperating, rewarding, wonderful and worth every minute of heartache and joy they bring, and as women we, or I anyway, anticipate both marriage and children being in our lives.

Other leaps into the unknown may not come as naturally. As a mother it is very easy to become lost in our children. I know for myself, motherhood was a great excuse to become lost. Don't get me wrong, nothing and I mean nothing means more to me than my children, husband or my immanent grand daughter Maggie. What I am trying to say is the nurturing, while it is the most important thing I do, it is not the only thing I can do. Lucky for me, Dewey (my husband) knew this before I did. He helped me jump.

As Megan, my eldest daughter, and I were in the midst of planning her wedding Dewey drove me to a little adobe house for lease. He thought it would make the perfect little gallery and gift shop for me. As my kids were getting older and flying the coup he wisely realized something of my own would be good for me, and he had confidence I could succeed. Had he realized the the tiny snowball that he started a'rollin down that adorable bunny slope was actually going to make it's way down Mount Everest, he may have thought at least twice before leasing the space for me. What Dewey envisioned as a nice little place for me to paint and sell the occasional print or trinket turned into much more than he or I ever bargained for, but he has supported me the whole way. (So far anyway. I don't expect him to quit supporting me, but I am far from the final destination and I can only suppose he will continue. That's not really true, after twenty five years, I know he will.) Dewey's mistake was thinking that the little vanity project he surprised me with would stay little. He knows small isn't my thing, but he always holds out hope. When I start something it becomes completely overwhelming and all consuming and that is what this jump into the volcano has become, but in a good way.

Kaleidoscope Eclectic Boutique was conceived in July of 2006. It was born March 31, 2007 when we opened our doors, not in the little adobe house but, in a high end outdoor shopping center in Utah Valley. What began as a little independent gallery turned into a women's boutique that specializes in independent designer fashion, handbags, shoes, jewelry, my paintings and my husband's photography. Considering I had no idea what I was doing, the first year went great. The second year, not so. The economic downturn hasn't been kind to retail. Especially in Utah County where Kaleidoscope is. I am not going to let this get me down though. I have decided to look at Kaleidoscope like raising another child, or making a marriage work. Both have good and not so good fazes. Kaleidoscope is just in a not so good one for the moment.

So what to do? Close? Give up? No. KEEP GOING!!! After doing all kinds of research, blindly I might add, Kaleidoscope is growing up. We are designing our own dress line, creating a great interactive community website and are re branding. I have found the help I need to do all of it. All I had to do was keep at it. Is it done yet? No. Will it get done? I hope so. I am confident that it will. Do I know for certain sure? No. Does that matter? No. Have I ever designed dresses before? No. Did Chanel know how to sew? No. did she go to design school? No. Did she change the entire world of couture fashion? Yes. Does she have anything I don't have? Absolutely not!!!

Just jump. Start the journey. Change course along the way if need be, but keep going. Enjoy the ride, stamp your passport along the way, and where ever the journey ends, if you did your best and stayed true to yourself and your values, your final destination will be beautiful. Lessons will be learned, opportunities taken, and glorious unimaginable things accomplished. Whether you succeed or fail, take the leap, don't look back. Live. You can do it.

That's all until...

If You Don't Chase It You Can't Catch It (What's It?)

2009-01-21T18:08:00.002-07:00

"It", whether it's family, career, education, hope, faith or anything else our heart desires can be ours. All we have to do is catch "It". That sounds easy enough. I think I will start chasing "It" tomorrow. Oh yea, tomorrow never comes. That is truly unfortunate. I guess I better start now. First I need to figure out what "It" it is that I'm chasing, so I will know when I catch "It".

There have been times when it was crystal clear what I was chasing, like in the seventh grade when I wanted to be first chair first soprano in the school choir. Cheryl was a really wonderful singer, the best in the class, and she had a lot of confidence. I loved to sing and my mother thought I had a beautiful voice, but I wasn't so sure. When it came time to challenge for a chair, first chair being best of course, there were only two ways to win. The first, and easiest, which was my strategy, was to know more of the song than the other girl. The second, and most difficult way to win, was to just flat out be a better singer. I was good at memorizing. Cheryl was a natural singer, but didn't spend much time studying the lyrics and, you guessed it, I picked a song I new she didn't know. The challenge was on. Let the best man win, or at least the one who knew all the words. Mean or nice, good or bad, fair or unfair, you be the judge, I sang with the knock of my knees carrying farther than the sound of my voice. I won the challange and took first chair. Mr. Kemper let the class know that even though Cheryl had sung better, I had sung longer and knowing the music was also important. I went to my new chair and Cheryl went to hers, the whole class making sure I knew I would not be there long. Cheryl would be challenging me the next week and she would definitely know the entire song and, of course, out sing me. After all she was the better singer, even Mr. Kemper said so. I didn't listen.

It was Challenge Monday. Cheryl was in the fifth chair and I was in the first. All the girls thought I was the meanest girl around for winning first chair the way I did. I was beginning to think it wasn't the nicest thing either, and what's the point of having first chair first soprano for just a week. If I couldn't sing longer this time, I had to sing better. I really did not want to lose that chair. I was scared to death.

The walk up to the piano was eternally long. When I got there facing Mr. Kemper to sing, and not the class, was all that made it bareable. Cheryl was the challenger, so she sang first. She sang all the lyrics and she sounded beautiful. I could hear giggles behind me. I was all but beat. My turn. I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath. I sang. I sang all the lyrics, but this time my voice carried farther than my knocking knees. Apparently, and most definitely to everyones suprise, especially mine, I sang more beautifully than Cheryl. Mr Kemper's jaw dropped. I heard quiet wows from behind me. And Mr Kemper told the class that was how he wanted everyone to sing. I kept first chair first soprano. I kept it all year. No one ever beat me and most of the class quit trying.

It may seem silly that one small victory from so many years ago could still give confidence, but it does. We need to remember our little triumphs and use them to help us now. So many times when I think something is impossible I remember seventh grade choir. I chased "It" and I caught "It". I caught it and kept it the whole year.

Now I am chasing success with my shop and a new dress line coming out in the fall. I am sure I will get winded and worn out along the way, but I am not giving up. Did you know Chanel couldn't sew or draw? If she could do "It" so can I!

Signing off until....

A Sunday Observance at an Observance on Sunday

2009-01-18T13:23:00.007-07:00

Yes, I am a person of faith. I always have been and I always will be. It makes my life so much easier. Faith gets me through. The great thing about having faith, is that you don't have to start with any. All anyone needs is a desire, and bendable knees. This is all a loving Heavenly Father needs to guide you on your very own journey of a lifetime. As you travel you will press forward gaining faith, backtrack a little, bend those knees some more, move ahead again, hopefully beyond where you were, and so on and so forth. It can be a slow, plodding and even painful process, but hey we have a lifetime and then some to gain an infinite amount of faith. Best of all you get as many do overs as you want.

I happen to belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. That's right I am a Mormon. I figure it is good to get that out on the table right away. Have no fear, my purpose is not to convert, but to give a perspective on how I might look at some things differently, or maybe even the same as you do. Besides that, the Sunday observance I had at an observance on Sunday comes from Joseph Smith --History, so if I didn't tell you I was a Mormon you probably would have guessed it anyway.

Most of my adult life I have struggled with depression. I know, what a surprise, who hasn't right? The last eighteen years of that life have been spent trying to find the right help. So, through this personal struggle, the knee bending and guidance began. Countless men and women have suffered with this or other mental illnesses and I want whomever this may reach, even if it is only my family, to know that there is light at the end of the tunnel. The light may not arrive at the exact moment we think it is best, but it will arrive at the exact time the Lord thinks is best. The latter is what makes it the journey of a lifetime.

I won't bore you with the particulars. You have your own knee bending trip to take. My purpose is to encourage you to keep going. The faith you gain along the way will keep you going. No matter how much you might backtrack, keep pressing forward, keep taking your do overs. If you don't quit, you will be guided to what is right for you. Remember, you have all the time you need. There is no hurry.

Eighteen Year Knee Bending Faith Journey

Short List:

Pray

Go to doctor

"Your depressed!"

Take medication

Pray

Go to therapy

"You have post traumatic stress disorder!"

"Your depressed"

Go to doctor

take more medication

Pray

Go to therapy

Go to Psychiatrist

Go to doctor

blah blah blah

Pray

Go to therapy

"You have an anxiety disorder that is causing depression!"

Go to new psychiatrist

Take more medication

Pray

Go to therapy

Go to another new psychiatrist

"If these meds. don't work your going to the hospital!"

"You may be bipolar."

Take anti psychotic medication

Take tranquilizers

Take anti depressants

Get a little better

Pray

Get fat

Go to doctor

Get Lap band surgery

It fails

Get lap band surgery fixed

It fails

I guess there is no help for me

Keep fighting

Pray

Move out of state

lose tons of money

Still fat

Lose some weight

Gain weight back

Look for doctor

don't like him

Look for doctor

Some better

Yeah!

Doctor leaves practice

Oh no!

Try different Doctor in practice

My new best friend!!

"I am sure all of your problems are caused by ADD"

"I don't believe ADD really exists."

"Well start, cause you got it and you got it bad!!!"

Take Adderall

It worked!

Pray

Say thank you.

Okay, so maybe the short list is not that short. The point is I didn't give up. I kept bending at the knee and fighting.

Result: Life is great. Not perfect, because perfect isn't for here.

In Sunday school today we read the account of the First Vision from Joseph Smith--History. I have read this many times but never looked at it as a parallel for how I have felt over the years. Joseph's description of what happened to him when he went into the grove to pray is a perfect description of what happens when adversity comes our way.

Joseph Smith--History

Chapter 1:15,16

"After I had retired to the place where I had previously designed to go, having looked around me, and finding myself alone, I kneeled down and began to offer up the desires of my heart to God. I had scarcely done so, when immediately I was seized upon by some power which entirely overcame me, and had such an astonishing influence over me as to bind my tongue so that I could not speak. Thick darkness gathered around me, and it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to sudden destruction."

"But, exerting all my powers to call upon God to deliver me out of the power of this enemy which had seized upon me, and at the very moment when I was ready to sink into despair and abandon myself to destruction-- not to an imaginary ruin, but to the power of some actual being from the unseen world, who had such marvelous power as I had never felt in any being--just at this moment of great alarm, I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me."

That's all until.....

Part of My Story (As I See It Now, Maybe?)

2009-01-08T10:24:00.009-07:00

I ramble. It's true. I admit it. As thoughts come to me I spit them out. This is who I am. I always tell the truth, as I see it, and I will continue to do that here. Now my truth may very well be different than yours but it is mine. There is no agenda in The Kimmy Files, except one of hope no matter what your circumstance.

As I try and tell my history my recollection of it may be different from others who know me well. But this is me, as I was, as I see me now...back then. (Try saying that three times fast.)

For some reason I always looked backward. I am not sure I can adequately explain it, but back looked beautiful. I would feast on family albums. Anything with me as a baby, my older brothers excitedly holding their new baby sister, my mother as beautiful as any movie star I had ever seen. In pictures, there was always a beautiful inviting smile on her face. You could read the love she had in her eyes, the pride she had, for her growing family. You could even see adventure in her soul. I innately new she was special, something she never knew. I would guess that most daughters of mothers who don't think they are good enough, pretty enough, or anything else enough, might inherit that trait, but I knew my mother was great, even if she didn't, and I took a deliberate path at a very young age to find what was special in me and not hide it. I wanted to develop in me, all of her that was truly wonderful. Pictures, believe it or not, showed me all of this. Backward was happy and beautiful. She still had hope.

My first love as a child was music. I loved to sing, dance, play the piano. Anything to do with performing I loved. Now understand, I was expert at none of these but I loved them just the same. I don't want to give you the impression that I am any kind of prodigy or have some amazing gift because I do not. Any gift I may or may not posess is no greater or lesser than anyone elses. It is all about doing with what we are given. It is all work. It is all a battle. Also understand that just because I loved performing, I usually did all my performing alone. Mostly I sang. I sang anywhere I thought there was no audience and I could belt out show tunes to my hearts content. My favorite songs to sing were from My Fair Lady, and Sound of Music. I just loved to immitate the Cockny accent of Eliza Doolittle. I remember singing rather loudly in my backyard one day. To my amazement Tim, the boy next door, yelled at me to be quiet. Naturally I told him it wasn't me singing. I couldn't imagine what he thought he had heard. Needless to say I was mortified and realized that you don't have to be able to see someone to hear them. My mother, had much better taste than the neighbor boy. She thought I had a beautiful voice and wanted me to take singing lessons. My mom had a beautiful voice. She would sing every Monday as she cleaned. It was like listening to an angel. An angel that knew show tunes. When she sang she was happy. Singing meant happy. I wanted to sing too, so I did, but not until I was thirty, unless you count junior high choir.

The piano was a joy to play, until I realized it was work. My mother played beautifully and I loved to listen to her play. She played when she was happy, or playing made her happy or peaceful. I don't know which it was. She stopped playing by the time I was a teenager. I started to play the piano when I was about three. By play I mean pound as many keys as my little hands could to create my own beautiful music. I was sure that no one could tell the difference between my music and Fur Elise. Fur Elise was the song my mother played the most. When I realized that my music wasn't really music, I decided to play songs my mother sang from the movies we watched together. Watching old musicals with Mom was the best. My parents were amazed that I could play by ear. I could pretty much pick out any tune that was familiar to me. I took lessons for a while, but when it wasn't easy any longer I quit. I did pick it up again, but not until I was fortysix. Now I can play Fur Elise. It may not sound pretty, but I hit all the notes and it makes me happy and it gives me peace and my beautiful mother from the pictures is with me when I play. My mother's name is Lucille. She hated her name.

Dancing! I loved dancing. However, not just any dance class would do. It had to be ballet. Ballet was beautiful, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Whenever there was a ballet on PBS I was mesmerized. The ballerinas were so beautiful and graceful. Yes, ballet was for me. That was what I wanted to do. It was perfect for me, because I was painfully shy. Although I loved to sing on my own, I hated to sing in front of a crowd. Ballet was still musical and for some reason I wasn't afraid to express myself with my feet. Lessons began when I was eleven and I continued through highschool. I auditioned for the school of American Ballet when I was seventeen, danced Kitri's solo from Don Quixote in recitals and many other original ballets with my ballet school. I wasn't the best dancer, but I loved it. I was the best dancer on my high school dance team for quite a while, but when someone better came along I quit dancing. Technique in ballet is very difficult and was never easy for me but expression in dance was. Katrina, the girl who joined the team later, had better technique. It took me a long time to overcome my regret from quitting. It would be so nice if I could have known that desire and work can conquer a lack of natural ability. It also never occurred to me that I was much better suited for jazz or ballroom dancing. Who knows maybe by the time I am fifty I will pick that up. They must have senior competitions somewhere.

School was easy for me until it mattered. I was smart enough, just not focused enough. Math was treachery. Everything else was okay or I had a teacher I could talk into a good grade. I made it to college but that was the end of it. If I was interested in a subject the teacher had my attention, but otherwise it was pretty hopeless. If I knew then what I know now I would have done fine. But if I would have done fine, maybe I wouldn't be where I am now and where I am now is pretty good. I am not where I want to finish, but it is a great start. Every single day is a great start.

Signing off until....

Kimmy

Nervous Chatter

2009-01-07T15:21:00.001-07:00

Where do I begin? It seems to me that to have something really important to say one needs to have done something really important or, at the very least, have had some remarkable something happen to them. That remarkable something is usually some horrible tragedy, sickness, abuse, or any number of remarkable somethings imaginable. I tried to think of a remarkable something, to make my story more interesting, but unfortunately, nothing truly horrible has ever happened to me, nothing out of the ordinary anyway. I think that is why my story, such as it is, may have some relevance. It is meant for the women, including me, who feel unremarkable, who think they don't have much to offer, or believe they have decided too late what they want to be when they grow up. It is for the women who have nurtured, loved and raised their children and wonder, "now what?". It is for the women who have suffered with depression, anxiety and a feeling of utter helplessness and hopelessness, for no good reason.

I don't pretend to have any answers except the ones I have found for myself. My goal with this silly little blogging experiment, is to encourage all to discover their own individual answers, and to never give up. As we stumble searching for those answers we learn so much. Don't be afraid to stumble. Failure must be experienced to enjoy true success.

I hope I didn't get too heavy. Wow, using "heavy" really shows my age, but I think that term is even older than I am. In case you are wondering, I am in my mid forties and yes, mid forties last until I am fifty. I have four beautiful children that include three girls who think they are grown, a wonderful fourteen year old boy, who is extremely spoiled, and a truly doting husband that I have been in, and out, of love with for twentyfive years. I have to say in and out because lets face it, marriage is the hardest thing anyone can do but it is much more than worth the effort.

If there happens to be a reader out there for The Kimmy Files you, and I, will get to know me much better.

Signing off until...

Kimmy