Enough

One of the constant blessings in my life are friends. True friends. The faces flash by as I recall my childhood and beyond. Friends have always lifted me wherever I've been in my life. Some people collect coins, stamps, spoons, or numerous other things. I collect friends. Every spot I've landed on this planet, I've been blessed with friends.

I have walking friends, lunch date friends, writer friends, art buddies, ski buddies, book-reading friends, hiking friends, DUP friends, church friends, Liberal friends, not-so Liberal friends, conservative friends, doubting friends, believing friends, online friends, not-on-line friends and so on. Then there are the friends who intersect in and out of several of these groups. And those who aren't in any of the groups, but still know how to be there when I need them.

I've been surprised by friends who recently have shown an outpouring of love and acceptance for me. Sometimes we're afraid to show who we are for fear that who we are isn't good enough, fun enough, smart enough, or whatever enough. I'm blessed with friends who see me and show me that it is enough.

Taking a Break

I have been spending a lot of time since Christmas, writing, studying, editing, and reading. It's been great. Today however, I took a break and went skiing with my other potter friends. K & Kerri Rasmussen. We met a hundred years ago--well when we were students at USU which was almost a hundred years ago. Anyway over the years Kerri and I have become really good friends. We put up with K. I know Kerri will read this to him and they will laugh about that. It's great that they include me whenever I can tag along. We had a nice day.

Cultivate Talents, Reap the Rewards!

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about talents and interests and how they are formed. I’ve thought about my own childhood and how my experiences shaped my life. I’ve thought about my friends and how they formed their talents and interests. Sometimes talents and interests are the same and sometimes not. For instance I have a great interest in hiking and it’s something I regularly do, though I don’t think hiking is something I’m particularly talented at. In fact, often when I’m with a group I might be the last one to make it to the destination. Both talents and interests enrich my life and the life of my family

However, there are two things I’m particularly talented at and I have been doing these two things from very early on in my life. The two things are writing and pottery.  My mother is a writer and during my childhood wrote for the local newspaper. She took classes. She read us her stories and it sparked my interest. My aunt Emma Lou Thayne is also a writer. Though I never talked to her about writing when I was little, the desire to be something like her was instilled. I had teachers as young as third grade who had us write stories and share them in class. I found out quite early that I had some natural ability. In eighth grade while sitting in a science class and feeling rather bored I began to write a story. It was a story about an abused boy. It was a touching and yes, sappy story but my mother thought it was wonderful and entered it in a contest with the League of Utah Writers and it won an award in the youth category. I was hooked. From then on, I wanted to be a writer.

Now about this same time in my life, I also had an interest in art. I had very artistic brothers and while I was less artistic I was still interested. I took art classes in school. In ninth grade the teacher Mr. Neilson had a unit on clay. I loved making things out of clay. One of the projects I made was a giant tennis shoe. I gave it to one of my friends and she still has it, some 40 years later. Then Mr. Nielsen brought the potter’s wheel out of a closet for a couple of days and we each got a short turn on it. My first pot was thick and small. Pottery is something that no one really has any natural ability. It is a skill that has to be learned, practiced and perfected. From the time Mr. Nielsen brought the wheel out of the closet I was hooked, but it would be a couple more years before I would have the opportunity to learn the skill in high school. I think about the rest of the kids in my class. Why was I hooked and they were not? What has to happen to our brain that turns something from an interest into a skill?

I had another friend Susan who was also in lots of my art and English classes. In high school she learned how to do the wheel right along side me. After school she got on the bus and rode to her house up Provo canyon. Often rather than going home, I would stay after school and throw. (that’s what it’s called—throwing) I would stack the balls of clay up on my wheel and try to center them. And when I’d fail which I inevitably would, I would try again, pot after pot and by the end a pile of slop and sometimes a pot worth keeping, firing and glazing. Eventually my teacher, then Mr. Bird would have to go home. I along with another student or two would beg him to let us stay. Sometimes we stayed until midnight, promising the janitor that we would lock up.  Eventually we got into some trouble for that and we had to get permission from the principal to stay late, but they capped the time at 10 PM. My dad had a hard time believing that’s what I was really up to, but after months of this hours and hours after school, long into the night, I started bringing home my wares—then he would proudly show off my work, even my rejects that I’d thrown in the garbage, he’d dig out and show his co-workers and try to sell the “junk” for 50 cents or so.  He’d give me the money he’d earned.

What I’m trying to get at is that I didn’t have any natural ability in pottery making. I was creative, had a lot of desire and worked hard to learn the skill. So many other things I do and have done spur ideas that transfer somehow to my artwork or to my writing. My science class –contributed to my first good story—because I was too bored to listen. Eventually I majored in art—not because I had any real talent in drawing, I still am just “pretty good” at drawing, but Ceramics/pottery was part of the art department and pottery was something I was passionate about.

Now back to some of my other friends, Susan. In high school Susan was a fairly skilled potter, but the spark that hooked me didn’t hook her. So what did? When Susan went home from school she often went to the sewing machine. She became skilled and developed a real talent in sewing. Both Susan and I took home ec in junior high. Both Susan and I had to sew first a hot pad and then a skirt. That was about all I ever made. Sewing was ok for me, but I didn’t love it. I never went home from school and sewed.  So because I excelled eventually in pottery and Susan excelled in sewing. Was the home ec class as waste of time for me? Were the art classes a waste of time for Susan since she never made anything beyond her classes? I don’t think so. I think being exposed to lots of different learning activities in and out of school helps develop who we are, helps us to find our passion, and helps us to find ways to contribute to society.   I can sew and have sewn a couple of Halloween costumes for my children, believe me I’m very proud of them because they were so difficult for me to do. It would have been easier to call Susan and have her do it. I can mend a seam and sew a quilt block though I usually have to have someone thread the machine for me.

Something else though that I gained from my friend Susan was my interest in hiking. On Saturdays or sometimes after school we would walk up the mountain from her house and hike to a waterfall. She taught me to love the mountains. Isn’t it great what we can learn from each other? My love for the mountains has always brought me so much enjoyment. It has brought my family enjoyment and is one of the things I have passed on to my children. My five-year-old grandson just hiked a full six miles with me without any help. My love for the mountains is reflected in my pottery and again in my writing. One benefits the other. Time is not wasted doing something we enjoy or that we can share with family or friends.

Another friend I had was Shellee.  From 2^nd grade on Shellee was one of my best friends. Shellee had a natural ability at all things athletic. If it involved a ball, a bat, jumping, dancing, or running, chances are Shellee was very good at it. In 4^th grade whenever Shellee got up to bat everyone in the outfield backed up. When I got up to bat the outfield didn’t even need to worry, but the infield needed to move up. I had no skills, but I loved to play. Sometimes after school, our neighborhood had baseball games. The whole gang played--boys and girls. Shellee taught me how to hold a bat, how to watch the ball, how to catch, and how to hit. I never became like Shellee, but I learned to play well enough that I didn’t strike out every time. I had fun. I didn’t go on to play baseball, but still it was not a waste of time—I was developing my personality and gaining friends, and learning sportsmanship. Shellee on the other hand didn’t go on to play baseball either. There weren’t a lot of opportunities for females in sports in the 60’s and 70’s, but years later when I met Shellee in a park for lunch with our young children, she brought her three-year-old son and I had mine. Her three year old could already swing a bat, hit a ball, and catch. Although she managed to pass on her athletic skills to all of her children, at least one son went on to play professional baseball. Her talent, her desire, her passion for sports increased her enjoyment and ability as a mother. Shellee too was in the same art classes that I was, but did not take it any further and yet she is the friend who still has that shoe pottery piece I made in the ninth grade.  Again isn't it nice what we gain from each other and how we can bless each other through our talents and interests?

Another friend was Rosanna. Rosanna was one of the neighborhood gang. She played baseball. She took art classes too. But instead of signing up for extra art classes she signed up for Drama and Choir. What Rosanna ended up becoming passionate about was singing and acting. I’ve seen Rosanna in performances at BYU, Sundance theatre, Hale theatre, in commercials, and in church films and now during General Conference singing in the Tabernacle choir. Rosanna made some pottery with me when I got my wheel. As far as I know those were the only pots she ever made. Her passion was not clay but performance! And look how many lives she’s touched with her talent.

Now back to writing. I learned in 3^rd grade that I loved writing. I learned by 8^th grade that I had some natural ability. So what did I do? Whenever I could I signed up for Creative Writing courses. I took classes at BYU before transferring to USU. At USU I took poetry writing, short story writing, and so forth. Eventually—like twenty years after college graduation I attended the League of Utah Writers in Logan and met some friends with similar interests. We started a critique group. I attended conferences. I read books on writing. All the time I was writing some short stories, but didn’t begin writing my first novel until the year 2000. In fact, it was one of my century goals.

I didn’t really know I could write a novel, but I tried it anyway and it turned out good. It takes a lot of work and it takes a lot of desire. It takes a lot of practice and continuing to develop and learn. So even though I always wrote a little I didn’t get serious until I was forty years old. In fact it was a mid-life crisis that sent me back to college to get a second degree in English which reminded me that I was pretty good at writing. Our time to find our passion doesn’t have a time limit. There is no one setting a standard except ourselves. Olive Ann Burns was 60 yrs. Old in 1984 when she published her first novel “Cold Sassy Tree” which became a best seller. She died of cancer before completing her second. And yet her book continues and is being read by young and old alike today and has reached wide audiences and much acclaim.

Talents and Interests are worth developing. They are worth sharing. They make us who we are. Whether you make the best Lemon meringue pie, or garden, or know how to be a good friend, or write a book, making and sharing talents is important. We are told to let our light shine. But we aren’t told what our light is. We each have a unique light don’t we? Isn’t it nice that we don’t all love the same things? Isn’t it nice that we don’t all know how to make pottery? If we did who would appreciate my work? Isn’t it great that we all can’t sing a song or act in a play?  Natural ability helps sometimes too, but exposure can lead to desire which can lead to a  passion, then add the time and learning and practice to really cultivating a talent and reap the rewards. It takes all the ingredients. There are no shortcuts.

Worth the price?

So for the last five years I've hesitated to part with the money to buy a season pass to our local resort, Beaver Mountain. Beaver is one of those places that really doesn't have a counterpart as far as I know. It's still run by the Seeholzer family, has stayed small, and has not succumbed to the zealousness of some resort owners. Well this year, I decided that I needed to ski. I needed it as much as I needed other health professionals who help me have the best quality life possible. It's easy to drop 500.00 for an experimental procedure with the hope that it will cure migraine headaches, so why did it take me so long to decide that $270.00 dollars was worth the investment in my well-being. Here I am with some potter friends, Kerri and K. Rasmussen from Hyrum. We've had lots of good laughs on the slopes, and lots of good conversations on the slopes.
Another thing I do that doesn't cost any money, but does take committment is that I walk around 3-4 miles at least 5 days a week. The other day five of us from the same neighborhood walked together. Psycho-therapy costs on average about $175.00 an hour--and it may be well worth the cost, but it certainly isn't as enjoyable as a walk in nature, or skiing with a couple of long-time friends, or new friends. The other day I skiied with someone I'd only known for a couple of walks. A few years ago, a woman who has come to become a great friend had only one criteria for a ski partner--a Democrat. She called someone she knew and asked if she knew any Democrats who skiied. Well I fit the bill and we've been great friends ever since.

Mormon Bishops

My dad was a bishop. Most of the people who read my blog are LDS, but there are a few who aren't and may not quite understand the role of bishop in the typical LDS ward. They are sometimes called the father of the ward. Like fathers, they do a lot for the people they serve--without a whole lot in return. Bishops donate oodles amount of time to the community they've been called to preside over. They should be spiritual, compassionate, organized, a good leader, a good teacher, a model father and husband, a friend to the youth, kind to children. Well you get the idea. They should be about everything good--and nothing bad. Being the child of a bishop was a little bit of a pain in the neck, because if I was a smart alec in Sunday School, the teacher would pull me aside and remind me that I should be setting an example. I should've reminded the teacher that my dad was a smart alec too, so I came by it naturally, but I didn't. Usually, I just said I would try to do better, but I said it with a scowl and roll of my eyes--or a smirk.

Since that time, I've had at least a dozen bishops. In varying degrees, I've liked all of my bishops. Some I've known very well since my husband often served in the bishopric with them, well about six times, he's been in a bishopric. A bishopric consists of about 6 men who are counselors and clerks who help the bishop, but ultimately the responsibility of the entire ward of several hundred people lies squarely on the bishop's shoulders. The others can only do so much. I've worked closely with a few bishops in some of my own callings. Without exception, these bishops I grew to respect.

In Grouse Creek, our bishops wore cowboy boots, big buckles, and had an obvious tan line, typical of ranchers who wears hats and work outdoors. We've had bishops who drove school buses, farmed, taught, ran businesses and so forth. They can come from all walks of life. So where am I going with all of this? Bishops often set the personality of a ward. I'm in a new ward. Adjusting to a new ward is a challenge. For many of the years we've been in Paradise, we've been in the same ward and have made a lot of friends. I've been in a bit of a funk in our new ward. I feel a bit invisible, and even unloved. This is no ones fault, well except maybe mine. People are nice enough, but they don't know me. However, Mick and I are both happy with our new bishop. Yeah, we know it doesn't make any difference in whether or not the church is true, but we think he's pretty cool. Here's a picture of him with his family---trick or treating at our house. See?

Start A Writing Group

If it weren’t for my first writing group, I wouldn’t be a published author today. About eight years ago, I had just finished up my degree at Utah State University in English. I was on a high because I had done really well in my courses and it had spurred me to keep writing. Then a friend called and asked if I knew of any writing groups she could join. Well I didn’t know of any, so I suggested that we start a Paradise Group. She liked the idea. She asked a neighbor who hadn’t lived here long, but taught English at the university. I asked my good friend Kathy, whom I knew liked to write and we set the first meeting.
The first time was a little frightening. Reading and waiting for a response is intimidating, especially since someone in our group was a teacher at Utah State! Fortunately, we all clicked. At first we thought we’d meet twice a month, but for this group, some busy with young children, and Anne busy with teaching classes that was too often. So instead we rotated houses and met once a month. We always had something to eat—usually muffins and fruit, tea, or juice.
I began my first novel only I didn’t know it was a novel at all. It started with just two pages of a story, but when I hit eighty pages we all knew I was writing a novel. Every month my group gave me encouragement and said they couldn’t wait to hear more. Often I would wait until the day before group and continue my ongoing saga. That two page story evolved into a published novel, "A Question of Trust."

The other members of my group haven't published novels, but still have written some great stuff, all publishable. Julie usually writes uplifting essays about parenting, but occasionally surprises us with the gem of an emerging suspense or mystery. Each of Kathy’s stories ends with us wanting to hear more. Her imagery is rich, her writing flows, and her characters are endearing, but then the next month, she usually starts something new. Anne is the same way. I love her stories. They remind me of two of my favorite authors, Barbara Kingsolver and Anne Tyler. We have all become great friends, which means we need to allow a lot of time for our meeting. In truth even though it began as a writing group it has evolved into a support group and sometimes it’s time to go, we’ve talked from 10 AM, right through lunch and children are getting off the bus and then we hurry and read our pieces. Still if it weren’t for that wonderful group of women encouraging me, I sincerely doubt I would’ve ever gotten around to writing my books. We have include one more member, Jeannie, who is a much better writer than she gives herself credit for being. I always listen to her feedback.
My other group is a little more serious about the writing and business end of things. Right now there are three of us, all published authors. I feel it imperative that this group hears my story, because although we like each other, we have not evolved into a support group. And even though we are friends, they have no qualms about telling me where my writing sucks. Josi Kilpack is amazing at seeing plot holes and asking for motivations. Janet Jensen, whose book "Don't Marry the Mormon Boys" is coming out soon, is excellent at technicalities and giving ideas on enriching the story. Also she is really big on avoiding the passive voice. They both are looking at my story with the idea of being published, so the criticism is important. I have a habit of liking everything, so I try to look deeper when giving feedback. In this group, too, if we aren’t careful we talk too much and don’t allow enough time for feedback.
If you are at all interested in writing, I suggest you either join a group or start your own. If you start your own establish rules right from the start. Make the group a priority—in other words, schedule other appointments around it, not the writing group around your appointments. If needed set a time, and allow each writer substantial time to read and receive feedback. Let each person in the group talk. If someone in the group is shy about jumping in, it might be because they feel intimidated—ask them for their opinions. When giving feedback—always start and end with something you liked. Criticism doesn’t have to be critical. It can be, I liked this character because… and I would like to see more of … I was confused about … My favorite part was …
The writer must go home feeling good about their writing, but have specific things they feel they can improve on. Even after listening to the members, don’t always take their opinion over your own. Work on feedback while it’s fresh in your mind. Examine and then decide if they are right. If more than one person in the group says the same thing, it’s probably valid. However, sometimes people jump on the bandwagon and say something just because someone else does. That’s why for me having two groups is great. If members of both groups say the same criticism than I know I need to work on that.

I wouldn’t trade either group and I work hard to keep them both going and make them a priority. My groups are the highlight of my week. They've given me confidence and the desire to succeed. But most importantly for me, I have cherished friendships.