Jonah

Sometimes it's easy to read the scriptures as a history book. But it's so vital to remember that these things actually happened to someone! Abraham had no idea that an angel was going to stop him from sacrificing Isaac. Just imagine how he must have felt the moment before the angel appeared! Or imagine the despair of Jairus when he heard his daughter was dead; he had no idea that Jesus was going to raise her from the dead! I gain a deeper appreciation for Daniel's courage when I think about the fact that he was prepared to die in the lion's den. He did not know the Lord was going to protect him!

This vain of thought was inspired by the following video. This little girl speaks with such conviction and it really draws you in to the story of Jonah. Plus she's just so cute and her little kid lisp makes me smile. Enjoy!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kB-s0ZeDVX0

Sentences to make you think

(Forget that double negatives are grammatically incorrect in English.)

1. Little girls that don't like candy may also never fail in not liking brownies.
2. Walking in the crosswalk doesn't guarantee not being hit by a car.
3. Not wanting to go to a party, doesn't mean you don't like the host.

In my spaghetti

I remember with fondness the Seymour's book worm talking thing-a-ma-jigger. You would press different buttons corresponding to different parts of speech. Then it would make a sentence! My favorite aspect of the toy was the prepositional phrases. In the grass, on the chair, in my soup. But my favorite one was in my spaghetti. Always made me laugh. Still does. To this day when I'm with my siblings, I'll randomly add in my spaghetti.

Childhood toys are so sentimental. The toys you always wanted but never got are even more so. Take, for example, the easy bake oven. Always wanted one, never got one. They're still magical to me. I'm sure the finished product would now taste disgusting to my adult taste buds but that's not the point. It was just...miraculous.  

Rainy Days

Gloom. Rain. Gray. Clouds.

YAY!

People might think I'm crazy (and my sister is probably the only one that will understand this post) but I actually love gloomy days. They make me excited to be inside, make cookies, curl up with a blanket, read a good book, play Christmas songs, drink hot chocolate, think about Christmas food, be creative and the list goes on. I am an Oregonian true blue through and through. I enjoy rainy days.

Bargains make me smile

I went to lunch to Olive Garden with a friend on Saturday. It was 4:10. We quickly found out that the lunch menu ended at 4. Well, shoot. Being the cheap skates we were, we meticulously looked through the dinner menu for the best deal. We settled on ordering soup. One bowl was $5.65. You may be thinking, "What a rip!" but indeed it was not. The soup is bottomless and it also comes with bread sticks (which are of course MY favorite part of Olive Garden). So endless soup and endless bread sticks. Pretty good deal. Then to make a good thing spectacular, the waiter got our order wrong. She brought us a huge bowl of salad. And once a waiter sets something on your table, there's no going back. So we got to eat it at no charge. The cherry on the cake was that the waiter gave us, not two but six mints Andes mints to 'cleanse our palet.' *contented sigh* A good meal, especially a good meal for a bargain always makes me happy.

 

Calling down through the years

I found out that my dad has a folder on the computer of stories about our ancestors. I opened it up and started looking through. It was very inspiring to read about their dedication and endurance. One file in particular stands out in my memory. It was the autobiography of my 5th (6th?) great grandfather: Zerah Pulsifer. He speaks of his grandfather fighting in the Battle of Bunker Hill as they were retreating:

"While they were going out, my grandfather saw one of our men wounded and crawling away on his hands and knees. In the meantime a British soldier ran him through with a bayonet. Being filled with indignation at such rank breach of the laws of all civilized nations he immediately stopped, and amid scenes of death and carnage, loaded his gun and shot that man down before he left the ground and then obtained a safe retreat. I speak of this to let my posterity know that our ancestors were clothed with that steady unshaken determination in time of the most imminent dangers that are incident to human life."

He's talking to me. I am his posterity. Zerah wrote those exact words with the hope that the generations to follow would read them and I have. The language is so moving that reading this passage really cuts to my heart. I thank my predecessors for being so courageous. For standing in honor. For keeping a written record that I can read and draw strength from. I come from a heritage of being clothed in steady, unshaken determination. I'm going to remember that as I'm walking through the villages of Honduras.  

Music?

I am seriously worried about the musical taste-buds of this country. When a song has retarded lyrics, it's like being at Disneyland and sitting in a bathroom stall all day. When a quote unquote "famous" singer is horribly mediocre or has no idea how to really sing, it's like going to Coldstone and licking the garbage can. It seems that few popular or famous singers these days could give a live concert because all of their songs have undergone extensive surgery using technology. "Oh, you don't know how to sing? That's OK. That's why we've got reverb honey!" "What? You have no concept of vibrato? Don't worry sweetie, no one does these days!"

What inspired this post? Justin Bieber. If you don't know who he is, I applaud you. I heard about him through the grapevine and wanted to hear him for myself. I typed his name into YouTube and the first video that came up was called 'Baby'.  I could NOT believe my eyes. Before I even started watching the video I saw that it had 359,686,628 hits. WHAT?!?!?! I had never known one clip to be watched so many times. My expectations were rising quickly. If this video had been watched over 350 million times it had to be pretty good right? Well, let's just say that if it had been good I wouldn't be posting right now.

Fail #1 came as soon as he opened his mouth to sing. I do not...I can't...there are not even words to convey my horrified amazement. He sounds like a 10 year old imitating a bad pop singer.

Fail #2 was his appearance. He looks like a 10 year old dressed up as a wannabe jock. The driving beat does not fit his baby face.

Fail #3 was blazingly apparent as he began singing words. (At first he's only singing "oh".)  The lyrics were absolutely a joke.

You know you love me, I know you care. 

Just shout whenevuh and I'll be there. 

You want my love, you want my heart 

and we will never ever ever be apart. 

Are we an item? Girl quit playing. 

We're just friends, what are you saying. 

Said there's another, look right in my eyes. 

My first love broke my heart for the first time. 

And I was like baby baby baby, 

ohhh, like baby baby baby 

no like baby baby baby 

ohh I thought you'd always be mine mine.

I predict that if those lyrics were turned in as a seventh grade poetry project it would get an F. 

Fail #4 hearkens back to #2. I couldn't take a song seriously that was talking about love when the singer himself probably still thinks girls have cooties. He should've been singing about pokemon cards and dinosaurs and playing tag. 

Disclaimer: I am not attacking Justin Bieber as a person. I'm sure he's a nice kid. I just think it's ridiculous that millions of people are spending money buying his music.

In conclusion: I adore listening to talented musicians that produce beautiful music and when the media picks a poster child who captivates millions and that child doesn't produce good music, it irritates me. I wish people could experience what I experience when I hear a truly exquisite piece of music. It's inspiring; my soul feels fed. Good music enhances my life. I wish the music industry would produce more of it.

Justin Bieber

Note: To fully appreciate this post, I suggest you watch the first little bit of his music video "Baby." I promise it will make you laugh. Especially if you watch it long enough to hear the chorus.

Real English

Maybe I'm a fanatic but I love old English. And by old English I mean I love varied vocabulary that conveys a depth of feeling that definitely lacking in our day. This is exemplified in the following quote. It is taken from the book The Character of Jesus, a compilation of sermons given by the Christian scholar Charles Edward Jefferson in 1908. It is writing like the following that makes me breathe more deeply and smile more contentedly.

"The amplitude of Jesus' ideas is evidenced by their perennial freshness and applicability to all kinds of men and conditions. How wonderful it is that Jesus' ideas are broad enough to cover all the nations and all the centuries. Many ideas shrivel and dry up with the lapse of time...But the ideas of Jesus have such breadth that they can cover the world and the ages, and although nineteen centuries have swept away almost everything which was believed and taught in Jesus' day, his ideas are still alive and the very words in which they are expressed seem destined to outlive the stars." (p125)

My Special Love Note

I embraced the sunshine and the early release from work by trekking up to the Portland Rose Gardens. I didn't anticipate any roses being in bloom but, serendipitously, there were quite a few. I chose a weathered, wooden bench to sit on. Directly behind the bench was a tall, stone wall covered in moss. Looking out from my bench I saw rows and rows of varied roses all set in front of the backdrop of Portland. It was an inspiring, soul-breathing view. I sat Indian style on the bench and pulled out my book.

I had not read 2 pages when the sun suddenly sparkled brightly and warmed me through. I gazed up at the sun to see how it bravely peeked through the clouds. To my surprise no where around me was illuminated save for my little wooden bench. I instantly felt like it was a love note from God. "Dear Emily, Thanks for taking the time to love my creations. I agree that they are very beautiful. I knew you'd appreciate a burst of sunshine to warm you up. Sending my love, Your Father in Heaven." I was humbled and honored to enjoy my 2 minutes of personal sunshine afforded to me directly from the Creator. My Creator. I told Him thank you and that I love Him too.

Couldn't have planned it better

So you know when you have so much to write about that you don't even know where to start? Yeah. That's me right now. One thing at a time. I want to write about thriftiness and how my mom is the queen of it.

Story #1: I have a favorite pair of shoes. They are gold and silver flats. They go with any outfit whether casual or formal. They're comfortable and cute. Sadly they were getting worn and even I was admitting that they needed to be retired. I got home from work a few days after that and Mom had been to Goodwill. She came home with a new pair of those exact shoes. In my size. New. From Goodwill.   

Story #2: At my house is a book from the library with descriptions of a bunch of beautiful "Portland walks". On the weekend we, the family, ventured out for one of these aforesaid Portland walks. After walking in the West Hills (and seeing GORGEOUS houses) we were all pretty thirsty. There was no water in the car and although Mom, Dad and I could have toughed it out, when an 8 year old is thirsty...there's no waiting for the 30 minute car ride home. Being in a very typical downtown Portland neighborhood, we saw an organic grocery store. "Let's go buy some lemonade from that store," said Mom. We walked through the automatic doors and what to our delight was waiting on the other side? Free lemonade samples.

First day of school, I mean, work

The Lord has given me not one, but two part time jobs. That equals one full time job but with more variety. Today was my first day of Job #1. I'm working in a vault. Yes. A vault. It's a company that owns all the washers and dryers in Oregon and southern Washington (ie laundromats, apartment complexes, etc). My job is to count the quarters. Well, I pour the quarters into a machine to get counted then I do some paperwork and stuff. You wanna know how many quarters I processed on my first day? About $25,000's worth. In quarters. That's 100,000 quarters.

"What did you learn?" you ask. I learned that (collectively) quarters are extremely heavy. I learned there is an American Samoa quarter. And I learned that working at Gringotts WOULD be ridiculously awesome. But I'm glad I'm not a goblin.

During the 12 o'clock lunch hour I got my lunch out of the fridge. There were about 6 other people in the lunch room. Some of them had Subway. Some of them had spaghetti and meatballs. Some of them had canned chili. And there I was: the new girl with her sack lunch. PBJ sandwich, carrots, apple and zucchini bread. I felt like a kid on their first day of first grade. Maybe second grade. I don't know if those people had ever even heard of a paper bag.

I listened to my favorite Pandora station while working and that made all the difference. (Sigh.) Good music just makes everything wonderful. So to sum it all up, I had a great first day in spite of feeling a little out of place when it came to lunch.

I think the moral to working at this place is going to be that every little bit counts. A quarter doesn't seem like that much. But get a bunch and you might just have thousands of dollars. On a spiritual note, it's important to do the little things everyday like pray and read scriptures because those little daily things equal unmeasurable amount of spiritual strength.

Inspiration

Yesterday, something beautiful happened. I felt inspired to made dinner. This is a big deal. Mom said we had a lot of chicken, so I cracked the cookbook to the poultry section and picked out Easy Chicken Enchiladas. I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship between me and cooking. In about 30 minutes the timer will ring and out comes my homemade bread :)

"Emily? Cooking?" you might think. "From whence did this transformation occur?" I'm a huge believer in the scripture that says it is by small means that great things are brought to pass. The small means for me was that my sister (who I look up to so much and is my best friend) shared a little tidbit about cooking that made it easier for her. She said it's easier to cook when you get out all the ingredients first. Look at the recipe and set out everything you're going to need: ingredients, measuring cups/spoons and obviously the recipe. My biggest qualm with cooking before was that it was such a hassle to do a step and then look for more stuff. "Oops, I actually DON'T have any eggs. Wish I would've known that before I started." Now that that problem is solved, I feel a long standing barrier has been broken down. I actually WANT to cook. I'm excited to try new foods and explore which recipes I like best. So a big THANK YOU to Celeste for sharing a seemingly insignificant thing with me that led to being inspired.

"By small and simple things are great things brought to pass."
Alma 37:6

Food

As any blood relative of mine can attest, food is an important aspect of Mower life. Yesterday and today I have taken some time to peruse through the America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook. What an inspiration! The recipes are varied and exciting and not intimidating and sound amazing. So I have decided to have the dream of being a good cook someday. I have never even hoped this up to this point in my life because I didn't think it was possible. But this cookbook is just so user friendly. I'm excited about it.

In contrast with that food inspiration, let me share with you an experience I had tonight.

I went to a YSA (young single adult) activity tonight that was patterned after the Amazing Race. I was put on a team with 2 boys. The first task? Consume a HUGE bowl of Ramen. Now, when I say bowl, what I really mean is like a punch bowl. I asked the lady who made it how many packets of Ramen she used for each team. "9." N-I-N-E ridiculous, disgusting, slimy, unhealthy and retarded packets of Ramen that Bradley, David and I had to eat. UG. I am still feeling disgusting. I never ever want to eat Ramen again. Ever. I didn't want to let my teammates down and I didn't want to look like a wimp next to the boys so I definitely pulled my share. By the end I was literally gaging at least 4 times before I could swallow one bite of noodles. Yeah. Disgusting. I know.

Then I wondered, "Why does Ramen exist?"

I don't have an answer.

All I know is that someday I want to be a good cook...and never eat Ramen.

Unlocking your potential

The company I have been working for is moving and we're packing everything up. I came across a little box that said, "Keynote quotes: unlocking your potential." Wow! This must be pretty powerful stuff! I thought. Here's one of the first quotes I read:

"There is such a thing as giving up too soon. You can always get one more spoonful of juice out of a grapefruit."

Um, did that just come from the same little box that wanted to unlock my potential? OK, I do agree with the first sentence. Of COURSE there is such a thing as giving up too soon. Like the time I was in my gym clothes, walked to the gym, took one look at the treadmill and went back home. That's giving up too soon. I'll admit it. But I disagree that you can ALWAYS get one more spoonful of juice out of a grapefruit. It's simply not true. There is only so much juice a grapefruit can contain and I don't care how long you stay at it and don't give up, there just ain't no more juice!

Of course I can see what the quote is getting at and that it's trying to help me unlock my potential of never giving up but I think they could've done a LOT better. If I were an inspirational quote writer I would probably just say, "Never give up." Short, sweet and powerful. Why throw in random metaphors that aren't true? Just say what you mean people. It's much simpler.

Other favorite quotes from this little box:

"Each day, silently affirm that you are the type of person with whom you would want to spend the rest of your life." (Confused? I was.)

"Children are to be treated gently. They are like snowflakes- unique, but only here for a while." (...and then they melt away.... How is this unlocking my potential?!)

I think I'll just stick with the scriptures to unlock my potential.

Breaking the stereotype

Usually Friday the 13th is considered an unlucky day, an omen of ill will. Some people probably carry garlic in their purse or walk backwards ever 5th step. Well this past Friday the 13th was anything but unlucky. It was one of the most wonderful days ever. Lazel, my best friend, got married and I had the honor of being a bridesmaid. I love helping brides on their big day. I love it when there is a frantic moment and I can help calm the bride's nerves. It's a day of compliments where I just keeping telling the bride how beautiful she is.

Lazel and I were able to share very special moments together like when I helped her change into her wedding dress. There were many people getting married the same day so it was quite a miracle when Lazel and I were the only ones in the Bride's Room. It was definitely a crowning moment of our friendship. What a blessing that I could share her special day with her and actually be with her in the temple.  Marriage is such a sanctified and wonderful thing. I'm just so happy Lazel and Hadji got married in Portland so I could be there.

Oh and the reception? Delectable food. Three different kinds of wraps, crescent rolls with chicken salad, pasta salad, broccoli salad, fruit salad, a chocolate fondue fountain with pineapple, strawberries and marshmallows AND to top it all off: deluxe cupcakes. Phew. Needless to say I stuffed myself beyond full. Then while we were all cleaning up, Katy, Heidi, David and I took spoons to the chocolate fondue fountain. No joke. Can we say sugar high? It was a great end to a spectacular day.

Forever changed

I will always remember today. The first line of one of my favorite Primary songs is "I love to see the temple; I'm going there someday." All of my life I have sung that song. Well, today is that 'someday.' I am entering into the Lord's Holy House to make sacred covenants that I will be obedient to Him and serve Him my whole life. I love the Lord. He is boundlessly merciful to me. That's why I want to serve a mission. God has blessed me beyond belief; my best way of showing gratitude to Him is to dedicate myself to His complete service for 18 months of my life. Peace IS possible in this world when we put our trust in God, acknowledging that He is in control and knows what's best for us. In the end, good will triumph over evil. And I want to be among His troops, fighting for the right and helping others do the same.

   

Lazel

Last night I had the honor of throwing a bridal shower for my best friend. Everything went just as I had hoped and it was an enjoyable evening. I can really see God's tender mercies through the timing of all of this. Lazel and I have always been best friends: same ward, same middle school, same high school, same choirs. Then we went to different colleges.

She went to BYU in Utah and I went to BYU in Idaho. Then she transferred to BYU-Hawaii and I went to Chile. Now she is getting married. I never would've thought, after being separated by thousands of miles, that I would get to give her a bridal shower...much less go to her wedding. We've had the past couple of months to be with each other again and catch up on all sorts of topics. Although we've had different life experiences we're both learning the same life lessons. It's quite incredible.

The biggest tender mercy of all is that I am able to actually go to her sealing (wedding). I'm overwhelmed with gratitude that after all I have done with Lazel, I am able to be part of this milestone in her life. I don't think there are many people that have had a life long best friend. I'm so grateful that I've always had Lazel.

She's getting married tomorrow and then leaving to go back to Hawaii. I'm leaving in December for Honduras. But I know that even though there will yet again be thousands of miles between us, we'll continue to be best friends. I couldn't be happier for her.

Rhymes and not rhymes

English is a weird and confusing language. Two words look as if they wouldn't rhyme but do (staple and papal) and words that look like they should rhyme don't (come and home). I decided to write a short poem to illustrate this point. I call it "Come (Hum) Home (Comb)":

To me you are so good:
You give me lots of food.
I don't even fear
when I see a bear.

I don't have to work,
and this is quite a perk.
When I see a goose
we always make a truce.

I never have to frown
when the wind has blown.
You tell me to come
and take rest at your home.

I'm glad we're a pair:
You complete my square.
I have lots of pride
even though I've been fried.

You only have one boot
and it's covered in soot.
To help I give you mint,
But only just a pint.

You give me a daisy
even though I have been lazy.
I have come to know
how I love you so.

I am afraid of death
so you give me a wreath.
After you put on your shoes
away your mother goes.

Absolute adorableness

I worked in a daycare for 2 summers. I have seen, changed, comforted, held, rocked, smiled at, fed and taken care of a LOT of little children. I kid you not, the cutest and most adorable kid I've EVER seen is my nephew. I wish he lived closer so I could squeeze him in big auntie hugs. But at least we have Skype. That'll have to do for now.

Novocaine

I went to the dentist this morning to get a sealant, whatever that is. (Is that a nice name for a cavity?) Since I didn't know what a sealant was, I didn't know whether they would make my mouth numb or not. I got all settled into the comfy dentist chair and he said, "Alright, let's put that tooth to sleep." Uh, isn't that the term they use when they're going to kill a dog?! So he killed my tooth, used some sort of weirdish apparatus to keep my mouth open as wide as the Columbia and started the procedure.

After it was all over I kept touching the right side of my face. It's the weirdest thing when your fingers feel your face but your face doesn't feel your fingers. I drank some water and half my tongue felt that the water was cold and the other half couldn't even feel the water. Quite a strange sensation. I just took another drink of water and realized, "Hey, my whole tongue can feel the water!" I hadn't even realized I wasn't numb anymore because the un-numbing process was so gradual.

I think life can be like that too. Some things are so incremental that I don't even realize a change until there's an experience to open my eyes. A lot of times I don't realize what I have until it's gone. I know that I didn't appreciate designated non-smoking areas until I went to Chile and those don't exist. Moral of the story? I want to take time out of my week to inventory how I'm doing and what has changed. As Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living."

Poetry is powerful

The Cold Within by James Patrick Kenny

Six humans trapped by happenstance … in bleak and bitter cold.
Each one possessed a stick of wood, or so the story’s told.
Their dying fire in need of logs, the first man held his back,
For of the faces round the fire, he noticed one was black.

 

The next man looking cross the way, saw one not of his church,
And couldn’t bring himself to give the fire his stick of birch.
The third one sat in tattered clothes; he gave his coat a hitch.
Why should his log be put to use to warm the idle rich?

 

The rich man just sat back and thought of the wealth he had in store,
And how to keep what he had earned from the lazy, shiftless poor.
The black man’s face bespoke revenge as the fire passed from his sight.
For all he saw in his stick of wood was a chance to spite the white.

 
The last man of this forlorn group did naught except for gain,
Giving only to those who gave was how he played the game.
Their logs held tight in death’s still hand was proof of human sin,
They didn’t die from the cold without. They died from the cold within.

Knowledge

At my job, I'm either really needed or really not. It's usually the latter. (Latter is the second one right?) I have lots of time to sit in front of the computer. Today I realized that I could let my mind go to mush by perusing facebook and other non-productive things OR I could increase in my knowledge of topics that I want to learn about! The internet is an endless source of information. I got really excited about the list that I made because acquiring knowledge is such a fulfilling thing. Many people would look at my list and think "How boring!" but I am very excited about each topic. I'm very passionate about language and culture. It fascinates me for some reason.

 Topics I want to research:
-Native language acquisition
-Foreign language acquisition
-The bilingual brain
-The effect of culture on personal reality
-Language and its effect on personal identity
-Effective foreign language teaching methods
-Sociolinguistics
-Psycholinguistics
-The international phonetic alphabet
-Speech therapy

Quote from Finding Nemo: "Alright, here we go! We're ready to learn to get some knowledge!"

Heat is relative...apparently

I opened an email entitled "You're extreme heat alert for Beaverton, OR". What was the impending dangerous high? And I quote, "Near 90 degrees Fahrenheit". HA! And just yesterday it was 120 in NYC. Granted us Oregonians are not accustomed to heat but...come on. Unless there is a heat index of 30 or 40 degrees I highly HIGHLY doubt that 90 degree weather needs a heat alert sent to my email account. But thank you, weather people, for being thoughtful.

Walk or no walk

Almost every night some one in the family suggests that we should all go on a walk. We live in a pleasant neighborhood and even have great walking trails close by. Somehow, one of us always comes up with an excuse to not go. It has become quite comical. The number one excuse of course is, "I'm too tired" but the others range from "I need to write a poem" to "The mosquitoes are too thick." I decided to make a list. Yes, a LIST! My list shall be entitled "Reasons Why Not To Go On A Walk." Of course it is still in the infant stages but since this is a place of sharing thoughts, I might as well go for it.

Reasons why not to go on a walk:
- I need to play through this Rachmaninoff song.
- I want to eat ice cream instead.
- It's raining.
- It's too hot.
- I just want to stay home.
- I'd rather go swimming.
- I need to road-a-till the garden.
- I want to read Harry Potter.
- I want to watch the Spanish channel.
- I need to write in my journal.

But then last night, we actually DID go on a walk! Despite the mosquitoes and the drive to get to the cute little neighborhood/community of Fairview and the huge effort of leaving the house, we went on a walk. It was lovely. I want to go on walks more often. No reason not too.

Reasons why to go for a walk:
-I've been inside all day.
-I love being outside.
-It's good to get at least a LITTLE physical excercise.
-It's not raining.
-It's summer.
-Because I can.
-It's safe to walk around outside.
-I always feel good afterwards.
-Fresh air is wonderful.
-I need to enjoy life's little pleasures (like walks) while I can.

True Love and True Patriotism

Sullivan Ballou (March 28, 1829-July 28, 1861), was a lawyer, politician, and major in the United States Army.  As I mentioned, he is best remembered for the eloquent letter he wrote to his wife a week before he and his Rhode Island militia fought in the First Battle of Bull Run.

Ballou was born the son of Hiram and Emeline (Bowen) Ballou, a distinguished Huguenot family in Smithfield, Rhode Island. [1]  He lost both of his parents at a young age and was forced to fend for himself.  In spite of this he attended boarding school at Phillips Academy, Andover.  Following his graduation therefrom, he attended Brown University, and went on to study law at the National Law School in Ballston, New York.  He was admitted to the Rhode Island bar and began to practice in 1853.

Ballou devoted his brief life to public service.  Shortly after being admitted to the bar, he was elected to the Rhode Island House of Representatives, where he served as a clerk and later as the speaker.  He was a staunch Republican and supporter of Abraham Lincoln.

When war broke out, Ballou immediately left what appeared to be a promising political career and volunteered for military service with the 2^nd Rhode Island Infantry.  In addition to his combat duties, he served as the Rhode Island Militia’s judge advocate.

Ballou and 93 of his men were mortally wounded at Bull Run.  In an attempt to better direct his men, Ballou took a horse mounted position in front of his regiment, when a 6-pounder solid shot from Confederate artillery tore off his right leg and simultaneously killed his horse.  The badly injured Major was then carried off the field and the remainder of his leg was amputated.  Ballou died from his wound a week after that Union defeat and was buried in the yard of nearby Sudley Church. (http://en/wikipedia.org/wiki/SullivanBallou)

His wife, Sarah, never remarried.  She later moved to New Jersey to live out her life with her son, William.  She died in 1917 and is buried next to her husband.

Ballou married Sarah Hunt Shumway on October 15, 1855.  They had two sons, Edgar and William.  In his letter to his wife, Ballou attempted to crystallize the emotions he was feeling:  worry, fear, guilt, sadness and, most importantly, the pull between his love for her and his sense of duty.  Here is the letter:

July the 14^th, 1861

Washington D.C.

My very dear Sarah:

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days—perhaps tomorrow.  Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
         
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure—and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me.  Not my will, but thine O God, be done.  It is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready.  I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter.  I know how strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us-through the blood and suffering of the Revolution.  And I am willing – perfectly –willing –to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt.

But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows – when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children.  Is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last/perhaps/before that of death – and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart,...

I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved/ and I could not find one.  A pure love of my country ...and “the name of honor that I love more than I fear death” have called upon me, and I have obeyed.

Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long.  And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us.  I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me – perhaps it is the prayer of my little Edgar – that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed.  If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I loved you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you.  How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been!  How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm.  But I cannot.  I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they love, I shall always be near you:  in the garish day and in the darkest night – amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours – always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or when the air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me dead;...for we shall meet again.

 As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care.  Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood.  Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters...I call God’s blessing upon you.  O Sarah, I wait for you there!  Come to me, and lead thither my children.

Sullivan

Language

I've already mentioned I love reading. I think that stems from my love of words and language. If I had endless amounts of money (and were being selfish) I would travel the world to learn about different cultures and their languages. Each language has it's own syntax (the order of words and the rules that govern that language). This is what makes translation so hard. It's so funny to see translations that don't quite make sense. When I was in Chile I saw the sign, "Happy Merry Christmas!" I went on to a website called engrish.com to look up funny translations. I thought these two were pretty funny.

My limited mind

I just got a phone call from some one in Argentina. It seemed like any other call. But it blew to mind to think about her really being in Argentina. That's so far away from here that it seems like another world, another life. The reality of South America has in a way stopped for me because I'm not there anymore. It's hard to fathom that life is going on down there just like it used to. There are so many different realities being lived right now. Billions of people are living on this planet at this exact moment but are having completely different experiences than me. I can't even really grasp the population of the world, let alone the size of the planet. People say that the size of universe is incomprehensible and of course it is. I can't even comprehend the size of this Earth! Contemplating topics like this makes it all the more amazing that God knows each of His children personally and He comprehends all things. I can't even begin to fathom that capacity.

Last day of the month

Another month is over. It will never be June 2010 again after today. Time is such a weird concept. It can feel fast and slow at the same time. I really don't know where this month went. Already July? Unbelievable. But at the same time there were many days this month where the hours dragged on and on until 5 o'clock rolled around. I'm realizing that the older I get the faster time goes. What am I doing with my time? I need to use it wisely. I want to enjoy the now and be happy that it's today.

I'm happy the sun is shining.
I'm happy I have a good job.
I'm happy I know so many wonderful kindred spirits.
I'm happy there are colors.
I'm happy because I laugh a lot.

Literature

I love to read. First of all, words fascinate me. Second of all, I love imagining the stories. One thing I appreciate about the English language is that we have such a rich vocabulary. Books from the late 1800's are actually some of my favorites. It's a feast for the mind. 

One thing I don't like is when books are wordy just for the sake of using big words. I'm reading a book right now that was highly recommended to me, but I'm having a problem with the author's writing style. For example, the following sentence is unnecessarily difficult to understand: "The black colonial-era Morris, flotsam abandoned in 'Pindi by the ebbing tide of the British empire, purled quietly along still-sleeping streets." I'm not even sure what that means! Compare that to a quote from the Scarlet Letter: "Ah, but let her cover the mark as she will, the pang of it will be always in her heart." (contented sight) Such a beautiful sentence.  

I'm grateful to have books so readily available. I'm grateful to be literate. I love to read.  

I love laughing!!

Seriously?

Would you like to know how much this "Six-panel Mahogany Pet Gate" costs?
$399.
Sick.

To guilt children into eating their vegetables, Moms often pull the "maybe-we-should-send-it-to-the-starving-kids-in-China" card. This is the ultimate (OK, maybe not ultimate, but a pretty decent) example of this concept. Four hundred dollars for a pet gate!?!? I wonder how many meals $400 would be for an Ugandan family or how many immunizations it would provide for a village in Ethiopia. We live in such disgusting excess in this country. But I don't know how to change anything or make a difference really. It's not like I can change our culture.

Then I wonder: If I were rich, would I buy a pet gate like that? Well, no because I don't like dogs. But I would probably buy a stellar recording studio which would be a LOT more than $400. So who am I kidding? I guess the best thing I can do is try to change my own selfishness, keep paying my tithing and try to help people in whatever way I can.....(and discourage them from buying $400 pet gates.)

Thanks to the semi-truck

The sun was out yesterday and I took a walk on my lunch break. Such a pleasure! Being outside is so refreshing, especially after being in the office for a long time. After my lovely stroll and talking to a beloved friend on the phone, my hour was up (not in the metaphorical "I'm-about-to-die" way, but in the "my-lunch-hour-is-up" way). Walking through the parking lot back to the office, I heard a semi-truck with some strange engine problem. It sounded like the truck was about to make the jump to hyper-drive like in Star Trek. I got so excited! That sound sparked my childhood imagination and I started pretending that it really WAS going to jump into hyper-drive.  The remainder of my walk back to the office was filled with space travel, walking through the jungle, climbing Mount Hood and being a piece of floating cotton being blown by the wind. Ha! It was so much fun.

I've been thinking about the imagination a lot because I recently watched Anne of Green Gables and Anne of Avonlea (two of my favorite movies). I used to be very imaginative when I was a kid. But that faded away as I got older apparently, which I hadn't even realized. I still consider myself creative. But being creative and being imaginative are like cousins: they're related but have different parents. Yesterday I rediscovered how fun it is to imagine. Of course there's a time and a place for everything, but I found that on a walk is the perfect time to be childly imaginative.

     

The Bowler Hat Guy

Meet the Robinsons is one of my favorite movies: funny, original and good message. The Bowler Hat Guy is my favorite villain in all of moviedom. I love the part when he invents an evil plan to disgrace the Robinson industry forever. His brilliant plan? Standing outside their house yelling, "You stink!" Makes me laugh every time.
 
At work I was in the warehouse-part of the building and someone had tuned the radio to a talk show. Not my favorite thing in the first place. The employee was still working out there so I didn't want to be rude and change the station. It was this ridiculous political radical going on and on about how horrible Obama is. Don't get me wrong I'm definitely not an Obama fan (at all) but this guy was pretty pathetic. He didn't have any good arguments, he kept repeating himself and he was so fired up he couldn't even talk straight. It reminded me of the Bowler Hat Guy yelling "You stink!" If you're going to host a talk show, you should at least be sensible, professional and educated.

"Keep moving forward."

An Interesting Father's Day

I was never very close to my Dad's parents. It feels more natural to call them my dad's parents than to call them my grandparents. All my life they lived 15 minutes away but I only saw them a couple of times a year at best. Now it's been years since they both passed away. Through stories from my dad I've come to know them better and love them for doing their best in life.

After both of them were gone, their house was sold along with the 2-ish acres it sat on. Because of such-and-such a city ordinance, the land had to be sold in pieces to be developed with cookie-cutter houses. The woods would be cut down and the house destroyed. After the downturn in the housing market, the plans were never carried out. The woods and the house went untouched.

Yesterday, I went for a drive with my dad. He asked me if we could go by the old house. As we came up over the hill. it was a shocking sight. I hadn't been there in years and didn't know that all around their property, what used to be woods, was a new subdivision. But the most shocking of all was that the house was destroyed. Bull-dozed. Demolished. Only part of the foundation was there, along with a pile of bricks and the skeleton of the fireplace. I stood in what used to be the family room and thought about my childhood memories of the place. Even though my grandparents hadn't always shown it, I knew they loved me.

I stayed in the car as my dad got out to pick up a few bricks to bring home. I watched him as he sifted through the wreckage of the house he had lived in during all his growing up years. His dad had built the house and no one else had ever lived in it. I started to cry as I watched him slowly pacing around the rubbish piles, trying to decide which bricks to take.

How do you choose which brick to take? How do you choose what to take and what to leave behind?

I stared at the tree that used to have a swing. I stared at where the dog used to be tied up, the dog that absolutely terrified me. Change is a strange thing. To see everything so drastically different was shocking. Life is constantly changing. I want to live life to the fullest. A log of times people look forward to "when I'm finally done with school" or "when I'm finally married" or "when I'm finally retired." If we live with this mindset we miss all the todays in which we could have been perfectly content with just a little change of attitude. We miss all the todays that we can never get back. I want to love my life TODAY because I'll never have another day exactly like it.

Today I'm grateful for the piece of brick that I chose to take home from my grandparent's house and the leaf I taped into my journal from a plant my grandmother planted. 

The Recital

I enjoyed my little sister's piano recital for many reasons. Just looking at the program was entertaining. Boys were playing songs like "Masked Bandito" and "Raging Storm". Girls were playing "Tiny Lullaby" and "The Jelly Bean Song". The stark difference between boys and girls is always comical to me.

A piano and violin duet started off the evening. The stage was lit, casting a shadow of the violinist on the wall. From the angle where I was sitting I couldn't see her move with the music much. But then I noticed her shadow. It was like watching her spirit play the violin. She swayed gracefully and passionately while playing a beautiful melody. I had never really taken the time to notice the artistry of people's shadows. It was quite stunning.

Ziploc Bags

I was in the warehouse all alone at work. My happiness tank was running low and I tried to think why. I realized I hadn't smiled at anyone all day. I knew all the employees were sequestered away in their offices. So I smiled at the Ziploc Bag I was holding in my hand. It may sound ridiculous but it made me feel happier. Smiling is good for the soul...even if you just smile at an inanimate object. Now I really like Ziploc Bags.

Explanation

Everyone knows that the phrase usually says "stop and smell the roses." I don't have anything against roses; my middle name is even Rose. But what about lilacs? They smell just as good and are just as beautiful. This blog is a place for me to talk about little life lessons I learn everyday. The simple things. Not the cliche things like roses. But the lilac type things. Things I wouldn't have learned if I hadn't stopped to think. And really, what's life worth if I don't stop to think about the things I'm learning? Simplicity is beautiful and refreshing to me. Simple lessons from everyday experiences can still be really profound. So, thus starts the blog inspired by my sister.