just when you thought I'd forgotten about Blogger

Never mind that it has been three months since my last post. Never mind that I don't even know where to start to "catch up" so I don't think I'll even try. Never mind that this summer passed in a blur more quickly than any other in recent memory. Never mind that I should be folding laundry right now. Just never mind a lot of things.

Here are a few random highlights from the past three months, in no particular order.

For those of you who follow me on Pinterest, I finally chose a dress pattern to make for my 30th high school reunion in June:

And speaking of my reunion, I had a great time spending time with my best high school buds (and our beautiful daughters) shown here at InTea, a way-cool tea shop owned and operated by my friend Carole:

We spent a number of summer evenings watching Sarah's team, the Mustangs, play softball.

We loved having Josh and Charlotte come over the Fourth of July weekend!

We love hiding stupid things around the house for each other to find, the latest of which is a creepy plastic lobster that John managed to sneak home from youth conference. You never know where that thing will turn up next!

Mark gave us a scare when re-lighting the pilot light on our dinosaur-aged furnace. A mild explosion left him with bad burns on his hand, a hairline 1/2" shorter, and little-to-no eyebrows. (This photo was taken after his hand had healed considerably.) Hooray for hot showers, though!

Participated in my first-ever graffiti mission (or perhaps I should say anti-graffiti), spraying over an obscene gesture that Emily and I found distasteful on a dumpster in our neighborhood. It just goes to show you that matte black spray paint isn't just for old lamps and picture frames.

I finally got around to defrosting my dinosaur-aged 2nd (garage) refrigerator freezer.

We ate numerous times at Senor Burrito, our favorite local Mexican spot, for dinner--courtesy of my Dad.

I loved having Emily home for the summer and was sad when it was time for her return to Provo. We had a fun trip together, though, in her new car (I flew home after a brief day-and-a-half stay).

Loved seeing Michelle!

I completed my mormon.org profile.

I cut my hair, working toward some sort of bob 'do (see another one of my Pinterest boards). A work in progress.

I took John to have his senior pictures taken (sorry--no link available; I'll post them after I purchase the copyright to the ones I like best). I'm still wondering how John can possibly be a senior in high school already.

And how is it that Sarah skipped the gawky seventh grade phase altogether? This is her first-day-of-school picture, as an official seventh grader:

And there you have it:  my (mostly) complete, and (somewhat) comprehensive review of Summer 2011. Here's to better blogging in the Fall. . . .

family milestone

Today was not just the last day of school for the year, but the end of an era for our family at Prospect Valley Elementary--the end of 17 continuous years as parents of children attending the school. I snagged this photo from the school's website, hence the grainy quality.

I wanted to make something for the teachers before the year ended to show my appreciation for the years they have spent teaching my children. And really, what says love more than a basketful of homemade cookies (Ranger and Quadruple Chocolate)?

Sarah's 6th Grade Continuation was held in the morning and lasted nearly two hours (about 45 minutes too long in my estimation). We were sitting too far back to get very good pictures, but I managed to hold my camera up high enough above the heads in the crowd to snap this one of her getting her certificate. I will not miss the ambiance of the cafeteria/gym that doubles as an auditorium.

Afterwards there was a reception on the front lawn, where I snapped a few photos. Sadly, Sarah was one of the few girls in the sixth grade who was not dressed like a sleazy cocktail waitress.

I cajoled John into coming along despite the fact that he was suffering from extreme fatigue, having been "kidnapped" at 3:30 a.m. by graduating seniors from his show choir as a deranged sort of "welcome" into the group (never mind that next year will be his third year in the group).

We made one last trip into Sarah's classroom to pick up her report card and to say goodbye to her teacher Miss Rutledge.

It cracked me up that Sarah had to rip open the envelope containing her report card the minute we walked outside of the classroom. I think she wanted to check to make sure that her assigned grade for next year really is the seventh.

Thankfully, any concerns were quickly assuaged.

While I can honestly say that I have had my fill of carnivals, field days, sock hops, homeroom parties--and I certainly will not miss the snarled morning and afternoon traffic--I nevertheless must confess to having a slight catch in my throat as we walked away from the school grounds for the last time, knowing that next Fall we won't be coming back.

Thanks, Prospect Valley, for being a constant in our family's life for the past 17 years. You've been good to us.

steppin' out

Just when I'm coming to terms with having a daughter who's married and another almost through college, my son--my little blonde-haired boy--goes to Prom. And his date has cleavage.

Don't get me wrong--she's a very nice girl--I really like her, and I'm all for going to Prom, it's just that how did John get old enough to go?

I decided to make a fancy vest for him to wear with his black (choir) tux. I was able to buy fabric for the vest and bow tie, a nice tuxedo shirt from Jos. A Banks, and a beautiful set of gold cuff links/shirt studs for less than it would have cost to rent an outfit. And let me tell you, my little boy looked pretty studly. His date was happy, too, because I managed to custom-match her gold dress.

I made sure he had a pretty corsage to give his date (though I did have to remove a considerable amount of gobby ribbon. Yes, those are gold rhinestones and a pearl bracelet. Apparently corsages have come a long way since the early '80's.

Look at her beautiful 'do!

And I guess John will always be my little boy, even though he now towers over me at 6'5". *sigh*

really? . . .

This came in last week's mail:

. . . with a little help from my friends

As I marked the one-year anniversary of my Mother's passing, I'm pleased to say that I felt happy. Happy that I know she is alive and well--vibrant and healthy, happy to be safe in the knowledge that she is not far away and that I will be with her again, and mostly happy that it is not one year ago. And one more thing I know for sure: Mom would want me to be happy.

I have also felt the strength of the Savior's injunction to "mourn with those who mourn, and comfort those who stand in need of comfort." Knowing that many of you were joining me in the Bread Brigade (so dubbed by Jessie) was strengthening to me, as were the many kind expressions sent by friends and family alike. I was touched by how many of my friends remembered the anniversary of her death and reached out to me with loving arms; it makes me want to be more mindful of and kind to others who need love and comfort.

Susan sent me this darling framed piece--a happy reminder of Mother's artistry in the kitchen--

that I placed in my kitchen here:

I made Buttermilk Bread on Thursday night and my Dad and I delivered it to three of Mom's close friends. Regrettably, I forgot to take any pictures. I made another batch on Saturday and we delivered loaves to a few ward members between General Conference sessions.

On Friday, after buying some beautiful roses, we drove to the cemetery to place them on Mother's grave.

Karen, Daniel (her husband, not pictured), John, and Sarah came along, too.

On the way home we had to pull over to take a picture of this sign we had spotted at a high-class establishment on our way to the cemetery:

Apparently, there wasn't enough room on the other side of the sign for the whole word.

Mom would have laughed, too.

I love you so much, Mom. I miss you terribly, but want you to know that I'm getting by--with a little help from my friends.

one year ago today

March 28, 2010 was the last time I had a coherent conversation with my mother. I was with my sister Susan in Pennsylvania; I had arrived the day prior (a Saturday) to celebrate Susan's birthday with her. We called Mom after church on Sunday, the 28th, to tell her about our fun shopping day together the day before. We told her about our birthday purchases, talked about what we were making for dinner, and what we were planning to do the next day--all of the everyday details we so enjoyed sharing. Mom said she hadn't felt like going to church that day, saying that she was just oddly tired and didn't feel well. I expressed my concern, said my usual I-Love-You goodbye, and hung up after promising to call again tomorrow.

The next morning my mother suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage. Later that evening I was told over the phone by her attending physician that there was nothing more that could be done to save her and that I should get home as soon as possible if I wanted to see my mother before she died. She never regained consciousness. By the time Susan and I arrived home the following day, plans had been made to move Mom to hospice, where she died two days later.

As the anniversary of my mother's death approaches, I feel anew the sharp pain of missing her steadfast physical presence in my life. I long to talk to her about all of the things we used to share, and I can't tell you the number of times I've wanted to phone heaven for a quick answer to a recipe question.

In thinking about how I want to remember or mark the anniversary of her death, I remember that Mom always thought that spending ponderous time at a graveside was rather pointless and overly-sentimental (she was not the sentimental type). So--while I do plan to visit her grave and leave flowers (despite the fact that I can hear her in my mind saying, "Oh Honey, you don't need to bother with that!") I have decided that the best way I can honor her passing is to give service. Mom was always looking for ways to serve others. Even in her later years, with failing eyesight and aching joints, she would bake treats for her neighbors and friends, and for me. She was the true embodiment of the Relief Society motto, Charity Never Faileth.

On April 1st I'll be making homemade bread, using one of my mother's favorite recipes, and delivering it to people who might need a little cheer. I love you, Mom.

excused absence

Dear Blogger,

Please excuse Denise from her lengthy blogging-world absence. She has been very busy with

and hasn't slept much, due to a lot of late-night

and had to finish the

at the last minute,

all while missing her

very much.

She has had to take a fair bit of

to keep headaches, aches and pains at bay.

She'll resume her (somewhat) regular posting once she finishes the

and gets

and

organized again.

Sincerely,

If the shoe fits, buy it in every color