Happy birthday, Lauralee!

Lauralee-I am constantly grateful for you, and I know I don't say it enough. I am blessed to have someone to walk with me while we guide our family. I am grateful for the gift you have with young children, especially because it not one of my strengths. I love to listen to the kids talk about the scriptures because they already know them better than I do. Thank you for that. Thank you for being an example to me with personal prayer. You are a constant reminder for me that my connection with the Lord should be more consistent. Thank you for gently reminding me when I have neglected something, instead of nagging me. Thank you for making meals and cleaning the house and doing laundry. Thank you for suggesting and following through with fun activities and games for the family. Thank for never putting me down in front of the kids (even though you have pretty of opportunity). Thank you for being willing to discuss hard things with me. Thank you for finding the sacred value in being a mother and doing mother things. Thank you for not begrudging me for being the provider and all that goes with that. Thank you for putting up with a husband who is a curmudgeon more than his fair share of the time. Thank you for providing me with so many good memories. Thank you for supporting me during times of trial and periods that were very hard for you. Thank you for being active in the education and school classes of the kids. Thanks for being a support to young women who are trying to get the courage to go on missions or even just trying to stay active in the church. Thanks for being sincere. So sincere, in fact, that it is the quality that most people recognize in you first. Thanks for sacrificing for the good of the family. Thanks for being worthy to have the Holy Ghost with you always. Thanks for being patient with me while I grow.

Thank you, Lauralee Burton Hill.
Happy Birthday.
I love you.

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Cell phones are temporarily down. Call us on the home phone.

Kids and fall in New Hampshire

As hard as it is to be away from family, we have some really unique blessings living in New Hampshire. One, living in a picture postcard is pretty cool. A month or so ago, just after peak color, we turned our normal 30 minute commute home from church into a 2 stop and go with tons of picture taking along the way. As you will see, it was a fruitful afternoon. The image above was taken just up the dirt road from where our cabin was for our first year in NH. I did a little manipulation to it. Let me know if it looks too cheesy. For some reason, probably living across from one the whole time we were in grad school, our family has a little thing for graveyards. We lucked out in that respect, because they are all over here. Tiny little graveyards with really cool headstones. Not sure what it is about them, but we love them.

Thanks Mom, I know you are the only one still reading

Anyone who knows me really well, knows I have a thing for Ampersands. Silly little symbols that represent the word 'and'. If fact, I have done at least one other post exclusively about the auspicious little symbol. I have taken to analyzing ampersands from different typefaces and comparing differences and then creating designs using the symbols as the subject matter. Deep internal meaning? I doubt it. I just like the little symbol. I have recently made pretty much everyone aware of my fascination recently by the design I have installed on my office door. Obsession? Maybe.

This is only a test...

Here is a photo of a 1964 Ford almost exactly like my dad bought from Grandad when I was a kid. He bought it for a buck I think. The most clear memory I have with this truck is with my dad. He was driving me to the hospital. At this point I don't trust any of my memories because any time I offer one up, Mom and JeNeale contradict me with a false version of that memory that they have been collaborating on for years, so I don't have a chance. But here it is anyway. Mom and JeNeale, feel free to correct me. Ha.

My friend Blair Carpenter and I had ridden our bikes down to the "lower" Highlander. (Now bike is a relative term. I was riding JeNeale's old red, white, and blue girls bike with the banana seat and ape-hanger handlebars. Blair was riding an old junker his Dad had picked up at the Base dumpster and "fixed up"). This was in the early days, because the section of the subdivision between Cloverdale and Valley road was not completely built in with houses yet and it was still dirt. Almost. Foolishly, the contractors had poured the cement curbs and had left the whole street unattended for the night. Well, Blair and I (I think I was about 9 or 10) decided to try a physics experiment. We thought we should test the trajectory of a rock thrown against those gorgeous cement curbs to see what direction it would go and how much velocity it would carry. After several tries, we still lacked documented, quantifiable evidence, but we were really flinging those rocks! We got our evidence, however, when, as I was bending down to pick up our next test subject, Blair threw his. Well, as I sat screaming in the street, bleeding in the dirt from a fresh head wound, Blair stood there frozen not knowing what to do, a neighbor lady came out with a bright white towel to put on my head. She drove me home. Mom and Dad debated briefly and Mom won out of course. (Thankfully. Dad would have probably poured alcohol on it and duck taped it). But Dad is the one who drove me to the hospital. As we drove in red Ford to the hospital, Dad tried to comfort me. He said over and over again, "Jay, don't got to sleep. you might die before we get there!" Ha!

Our findings:

1. We found that the rocks went really fast, and location and direction were very unpredictable.
2. The rocks, when richocheting off cement curbs, can cause concussions and cuts that require stitches to close.

Truck: A Love Story

I am sorry for my silence. A six-week hiatus with family and friends was bad enough, but then trying to catch up from said break, starting school and creating a couple of new syllabi have provided me with sufficient justification so as to avoid having to write for a while.

Well, I have finally found an author that writes like I would like to write if I could string two words together in a coherent sentence. Michael Perry. Author of Truck: A Love Story and Population:485. That said, Truck is a better read than Population: 485. There a several swears in the aforementioned book, that while he is quoting other folks, still grate a little. Truck was just pure pleasure for me. Here is a review from Amazon.

"One wouldn't think that repairing a beat-up old pickup could become a life-altering undertaking. And yet, for Perry, it was all that and more: an epic adventure that encompassed love, diplomacy, a little hydroponics, and even some danger (like setting yourself on fire). Perry, who is also the author of -Population: 485 (2002), propels the story forward as if he were writing a novel, helped by a cast of characters who range from the lightly offbeat to the totally bizarre. The prose is straightforward, almost deadpan, but behind the words, the reader feels a heightened sense of irony, as though Perry knows how weird it all is but figures, what the heck, it's true so why not just go with it. The heart of the book tells dual love stories--man and truck; man and woman--that are, in their own ways, equally passionate. Perry writes about fixing his truck as if he was resurrecting it, but in fact, he may more accurately be said to have been resurrecting himself. The truck is transformed, certainly, but the multiplicity of changes that Perry goes through run deeper and likely will last longer." David Pitt
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

One of my favorite parts of this book is his attempts at growing a garden. It won't be for everyone, but I loved every minute of it. Here's one of my favorite quotes from the book:

"I am happy to live in a place where I can chuck a washing machine out my back door and no one judges my behavior unusual"

Here's a link to an excerpt for the book.

Enjoy.

Fireflies

Tonight, as I was leaving to come up here and finish up some details, I walked outside and saw a bunch of blinking neon green lights outside. I ran back inside and got the kids.

FIREFLIES!

Woo-hoo! Stampede! We all raced outside and ran around trying to catch these little blinking bugs for the next 15 minutes.

Running around the yard.
Grabbing at air.
What a great feeling.

Running.
Grabbing.
Happy.