Homer the Great

WARNING: If you are not a Simpsons fan, do NOT read this.

“Why can’t we watch The Simpsons, Dad?” “Because it’s a bad influence. The kids are very disrespectful.” “But we wouldn’t be. Can’t we watch it just this once?” “No, The Simpsons will not be watched in this house.”

Famous last words if I ever heard any. This is just a snippet of the conversations my brother and I had with our parents regarding that ever-controversial cartoon. We begged and pleaded to watch it just a couple times, but were repeatedly denied. So, we, being children not easily dissuaded, went to our neighbor’s house (my brothers good friend) and watched. I admit this with hesitancy seeing as we were being disobedient. We justified this by saying, “Dad said The Simpsons would never be watched in OUR house, not our neighbor’s.” It took several years before we were found out. My brother was in high school, I in Junior High. Rye was able to sweet-talk our parents into just sitting and watching one episode with us. If they didn’t like it, we would never watch it again. Needless to say, we are watching it to this day, laughing at the sarcasm and hilarious irony.

Understanding irony is definitely a key to appreciating The Simpsons. What good parent would say, “Well, kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is…never try.” A parent who taught their child to never try would be hogtied to a chair and have Parenting for Dummies thrown at their head. If any person is watching with the intent of seeing a normal family doing average things, they are choosing the wrong show. It is about a dysfunctional family and the way they screw up their own lives and everyone around them. Watching television can be very depressing, due to the immorality, language, broken families, etc. I admit The Simpsons does have a lot of these qualities that I don’t appreciate. There are in truth many episodes that I refuse to watch (I don’t watch much TV as it is). But I do admire the fact that the creators of The Simpsons have kept Homer and Marge together. Here is a couple that has more problems than most people and yet they choose to put forth the effort to make their marriage work. That’s almost unheard of nowadays on and off TV.

My brother will agree when I say that our favorite character is Homer. Dan Castellaneta (the voice of Homer) said it perfect. Homer is like "a dog trapped in a man's body. He's incredibly loyal – not entirely clean – but you gotta love him." At family functions, my brother and I quote lines from The Simpsons and other shows back and forth. It’s as if we have our own language. I’ve shared this language with my close friends who don’t judge me for having such ecclectic taste. If you are ever around my friends, my brother, and I you may hear a few select quotes. “Yar, I’m unattractive.” “You couldn't fool your own mother on the foolingest day of the year with an electrified fooling machine!” “That guy impressed me and I am not easily impressed. Wow. A blue car!” “With $10,000, we'd be millionaires! We could buy all kinds of useful things like...love!” “Oh, so they have internet on computers now!” “What's a wedding? Webster's dictionary describes it as the act of removing weeds from one's garden.” “I want the answers now or eventually!” And there are many more where those came from. In fact, here are two more of my favorites…just for kicks. "What? Are you going to sick the dogs on me? Or the bees? Or the dogs with bees in their mouth, so when they bark they shoot bees at you?" “Oh doctor, I was in a magical land of fire and brimstone. And there were little men in red running around, sticking pitchforks in my butt!"

If you are entirely turned off by this blog…you shouldn’t have read it. As for my family and me, we have created cherished memories in the warm glowing warming glow of The Simpsons. Their stories make us feel a little more normal than we otherwise might. However, I still have one question I’d like to ask. “Donuts. Is there anything they can't do?”

Why Gnomes

Let me introduce you to gnomes, or as I like to call them G.N.O.M.E.S. (Grouchy Nongregarious Old Misers of Elfish appearance and Size). Gnomes came from the icy lands of Scandinavia and then, about 1500 years ago, they migrated to the rest of Europe. They are actually known by several different names depending on where you go. In different areas of Germany, they are called Erdmanleins or Heinzemannchens (say those 10 times fast). In Iceland, they are called Foddenskkmaend. Switzerland and Luxembourg prefer Kleinmanneken. Nisse is their name in Denmark and Norway, or Nissen in Sweden. And the list goes on (did you want to know all that, Major Bubbles?). There are several varieties as well: garden, lawn, and forest to name a few. They are approximately 15 centimeters in height, have impeccable eyesight, and are very fast. They are exceedingly clever at hiding. In fact, if you have a garden gnome, keep an eye open or it may conceal itself in your shrubbery. They are the guardians of treasures and they try to stay far away from humans. Is this an entirely male species? No, there are, in fact, female gnomes. And did you know that these little people have an aversion to cats? Fascinating.

You may ask how I first encountered a lawn gnome. Well, here is the awe-inspiring story. I was visiting my friend (she lived up in the mountains) when we decided to play hide-n-seek outside. She was counting first and so I dashed up a path into the woods. Tiptoeing swiftly and stealthily, I felt a sharp pain shoot up my leg. Hopping on one foot, I noticed a shriveled, evil looking man made out of ceramic. Picking up the gnome, I cautiously inspected it closely. Then, realizing the game was still afoot (I had stubbed my toe. HA!) I hobbled away. I swear I heard faint laughter in the background…and it didn’t sound like my friend. Dun, Dun DUH!!!! After this odd introduction, I began noticing gnomes everywhere. They were in gardens, on lawns, in potted plants, and other various locations. It became intriguing to me, trying to find these ornery, bearded folk. They never seem to be in the same place twice and they’re always slightly obscured from view. Can they come to life? I guess we’ll never know.

I have to admit, I love the fact that gnomes are small…like me (that’s their most endearing feature)! They are much too grumpy in my opinion, but wouldn’t you be irritable if people kept knocking you over and disturbing your solitude? I also have an appreciation for their seclusion. As a human, I can’t live every moment in a hole, but I definitely put my emotions in one (most of the time). They don’t dress to impress as we do. We’re trying to meet people, not scare them off with old geezer apparel. They couldn’t care less. But it brings me a smile every time I see their baggy shirt and pants, the buckle around their middle (Over the shirt, big fashion no-no. I mean the 80’s are SO over). And I only know a few men who could pull off the beard/hat combo. What’s not to like about gnomes? So, I implore you, treat them with respect. Unless of course one trips you for no reason and laughs maniacally. Then I give you permission to knock him over and take his treasure.

The First Book of Annie

I must thank the only person who left me a comment. Thank you Janel! Your request shall be fulfilled. As for the rest of you. You should be ashamed, keeping all of your ideas to yourselves. Unless, of course, you've just been too busy to assist me, then you are forgiven. (Also, thanks Rye, for the ideas I'm stealing from your Christmas letter. I dedicate this to you and Janel!) And so, The First Book of Annie begins.

1 And it came to pass that I, Annie, did write my epistle unto my blog readers, therefore I make a record of the proceedings of my day. Yea, I make a record in the language of my father, which consists of the learning of the Utahns and the language of the Engineers.
2 For it came to pass in the commencement of the eighth year of the reign of Bush, there came out a decree from the Internal Revenue Service that all the United States should be taxed. And when I did hear, I did quake and tremble exceedingly.
3 And behold, it was revealed unto me that I should not see death before I had paid taxes. And I wept.
4 And it came to pass that the primary election were taking place in the land. And I did vote early and did wear my sticker with much pride. And there were in the same state many who chose not to vote and we did boo them exceedingly.
5 And it came to pass that I, Annie, did arrive at work at an early hour. And I was exceedingly tired. And thus, I did murmur against my boss.
6 But behold, my boss did speak unto me saying, "Let this be a sign unto you, ye shall find the check wrapped in an envelope, lying in a drawer." And behold, I did remember my paycheck and did repent with exceeding haste. Thus I did stock the shelves and was grateful for the money which I did earn.
7 And it came to pass that I did hear from many customerites concerning their bills. And I did help them much with their problems. And their rejoicing could be heard throughout the land.
8 And I went forth, and when I came near to the house of religion I beheld that some students had fallen in the snow before me, for the sidewalk had not been shoveled. And I did feel much sorrow on their behalf. Thus I entered the house of religion and did play the piano with an exceedingly glad heart. And there was with me a multitude of heavenly voices singing praises unto the most high. And this caused much happiness throughout the room.
9 And there were young warriors who did flirt exceedingly much and did cause the hearts of the women to flutter. And there were young women in the same room who did leap upon the warriors and did stalk them even unto the doors and they were sore afraid. I did fear that they may be lead away by the foolish imaginations of their hearts for Valentines Day was near. Inasmuch as the flirting did continue, it did confound the wise and the learned for they were charmed by beauty. And I did roll my eyes exceedingly much.
10 Therefore, I did depart and went up unto my place of employment where there were many phone calls. And the customerites again began to murmur about their bills. And these phone calls did cause me much frustration. But behold, their anger did increase against me, insomuch that they did seek to take away my life. And the last sentence was false, for they were exceedingly agreeable. And they did listen as I explained the depths of what they owed.
11 However, there were many notes left for the other coworkerites, and they did not take heed. And my heart was stirred and I did confront them with mine anger. And the coworkerites did offer me chocolate to soften my heart. But I fled and did run swiftly up four flights of stairs. Now it came to pass that I returned and did enter a happy state. Behold, I did now accept their offering and did rejoice in it exceedingly.
12 And it came to pass that the snow did cause much confusion in the parking lot. And the customerites were exceedingly wroth for the snow plow had not left much room. And they did badger us with many questions which we could not answer.
13 And there came unto work a young trainee, whose stink surpasseth all that stinketh. And there was much rejoicing from the coworkerites for this was his final day of training. And he did depart. And behold, this I declare unto you with glad tidings of great joy.
14 And the time came that I could return to my home, in which thing I did rejoice. And I did have reason to rejoice for our system had crashed and we could not type the things which were needed. Behold, my beloved blog readers, I speak unto you these things that you may rejoice. For I did come home and write this blog with much laughter. And my foot did fall asleep during the writing of it.
15 And now, my friends, I desire that ye should smile, that this blog should cause you to laugh exceedingly; for, for this intent I have written this epistle. And now, I bid unto you all, farewell. I soon go to the kitchen to find sustenance. Blog readers, adieu.

Life’s Little Hugs

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When life gives you hugs, hug back. I had an event occur today that I would consider a "life hug". I was leaving work when I fell into step with an older gentleman. He glanced at me and I smiled as I normally would at a complete stranger. Sometimes, the unknown person will lift a corner of their mouth in return. This gentleman gave me a 1000-watt grin. So, I struck up a conversation that went as follows:
Annie: "Hello, how are you?"
Nice Old Gentleman: "I'm doing well, and how are you today?"
A: "I'm great!"
NOM: "That is so good to hear. It makes those of us that feel the same even happier."
A: "Thank you! That was sweet of you to say."
NOM: "My dear, you continue having a great day and be very careful."
A: "I will and you do the same."
A simple conversation, a day brightened, one of life's little hugs. Sadly, it's not a common occurrence.

People have become increasingly self-absorbed. I would say about 65% of the people that enter my place of employment don't say "Hi". They can't return a greeting that takes less than a second to say. How hard is it to return a little common courtesy? It's not hard at all! It is thrilling to see someone come in that is smiling. Someone that is kind to me. I LOVE helping them and am even more willing to go out of my way to assist them with what they need. That nice gentleman returned not only a bright smile, but also a few kind words. And that made all the difference! I hope when others think of me, they think of a kind young woman who is always ready and willing to give a smile and a hug and offer a listening ear. Not that I'm going to start giving hugs to my customers. I think I'd get fired.

Well, my friends, I wish to ask you a question. What would my wonderful readers like me to write about this final week of the blogathon? I'm up for anything! (Well, almost anything.) If you leave me some good ideas, I will do my best to write about each one. If you decide not to participate, you will be stuck with whatever leaps from my imagination. That could be quite scary. Can you live with that?

Walking Zombie

There are several reasons why I am today, the walking dead. First: too many late nights. Second: an active mind that likes to play every scenario of earlier occurrences or ask questions about these events to torment me. Third: working late into the night stuffing bills into envelopes that will most likely be tossed into the trash. Fourth: shoveling the snow that continues to fall, even at this very moment. Fifth: the death of a beloved Prophet who had such an extraordinary impact on, not only myself, but also the world. I spoke about mourning the loss of a relationship in an earlier blog. Instead of my zombified state, I would like to focus on the memories that have flooded me since the dreaded announcement on Sunday.

Few of you know that President Hinckley reminded me of my own Grandpa. They both had a zest for life, a sense of humor that brought a smile to the saddest face. There was a strong resemblance in their features as well. As a child, I would ask my mom, "Why is Grandpa on TV?" "That's not Grandpa. That's Elder Gordon B. Hinckley." My favor was obtained. I was too young to grasp the depth of the words he spoke, but he spoke them as my Grandpa would. Granted, he spoke with much more eloquence than a farmer from Idaho, but in my mind they were "brothers". There was, regretfully, a drastic change in my Grandfather that occurred at the death of his wife.

My Grandma was one of my best friends. As active children, my siblings and I would constantly be doing things. Grandma (and Grandpa) came to each of these events: soccer games, plays, concerts, birthday parties, the list goes on. For those of you that know music, you may find this a shock. My mom taught me to sing harmony before I ever learned how to sing melody. As a first soprano...that's unheard of. She told me that her mom and dad did the same thing for her. My grandparents had been in a band (of sorts) in Idaho, my Grandma at the piano and my Grandpa on the saxophone. Later in life, they played for church dances together. As young children of 9, 7, and 3 (that's me), our Grandma would take us to sing at Nursing Homes, church meetings, and senior functions to keep those traditions alive. This developed an unbreakable bond (geasher, rye-guy...remember the rings?). My senior year, my sister was married. They, despite her frailty, played for the final time together. She would have been to my graduation ceremony, but we convinced her to stay home (she was 89 and the location was full of stairs). As a tribute to her, I must let you know that she was the ward organist for 70 years and she played for the congregation the week before she died. She passed away a month after my birthday, to the day.

It was heartbreaking. My friend wrote a blog once about loneliness and, I admit I've felt it many times during my life. But this was one of the hardest times I've ever had to face. I'm going to share with you a dear memory. We were at her house the week before she entered the hospital. She turned to me and said that she was afraid to die. I'll never know why she told me that, but I responded, "Don't worry, Grandma. I'll hold your hand." She went downhill very fast. It was torture watching her stats drop slowly. That week was, obviously, one I'll never forget. Even so, she kept her sense of humor to the end (either that or it was the morphine. Probably both.) My mom and sister had left the room and I was given a few blessed minutes with my closest friend. She was heavily sedated, but I knew it would be my last time alone with her. I said, "Grandma, I just want you to know that I love you so much." Her reply (I love this in more ways than one), "I love you too...two...shoe. I have TWO feet!" Morphine, you've got to love it!

After she was gone, my Grandpa went through a change, as did I. He became exceedingly grumpy and introverted. His "President Hinckley persona" was gone. He stopped enduring to the end and started waiting to die. It was harder watching him go through this alteration than losing my Grandma. She was in a better place. She was no longer in pain. He was experiencing the worst kind of loss, a wife of 64 years, his best friend. He entered a deep depression. I allowed the extreme loneliness to surround me. Have you ever had something happen in your life that pierced you deeply and no one was there for you? This was one of those times for me. Yes, my family was there for me, but each had someone to lean on. My mom had my dad, my sister had her husband, my brother had his girlfriend, and I had...no one (I had the Lord, but I wanted a physical person to share my grief). My Grandma was usually the one I leaned on and that wasn't a possibility anymore. My thinking, "My friends will comfort me. They know how hard this is and they will let me cry on their shoulders." Not one of my friends showed me any remorse. They acted as if nothing had happened. My pain was nothing to them. Therefore, I was nothing to them. All association was cut off. I climbed into myself, not unlike my Grandpa. Bitter is the word that is printed across this period of my life.

I have evolved in a way that I never thought possible. I've done an about face. I am grateful for the time of mourning, the time of loneliness. Looking back, I see how the Lord carried me through a dark time. It has taken me years to trust people (friends) again. Those who are closest to me should feel wonderful about themselves. I open up more with them than I ever thought I'd do again (and am continuing to open the cage I mentioned in a previous blog. It's a good feeling). I am so happy knowing that when I allow the Lord into my life, I'm never alone. My Grandma and Grandpa are together again, as are President and Sister Hinckley. The pain of watching each one exit this world is nothing compared to the joy of knowing they completed the ultimate mission. Life. I find it ironic that I referred to myself as the walking dead. I'm just plain tired. I am excited to continue with the life given me. Like those four amazing people, I will endure to the end! But if I start getting impatient, just give me a little morphine. That always does the trick.

A Night of Fun

Is it wrong to write about the same topic as a friend? If it is so, I am writing illegally. My friend, Janel, wrote briefly about the topic of a Girls' Night out and I will attempt the same. Isn't it such a blessing to have friends with whom you can share thoughts? I almost feel bad, dumping my pain, anger, frustration, excitement, and confusion with these wonderful ladies. Yet, they accept me, even with my insecurities. And chocolate, oh the sweet kiss of a secret lover. My friend said that chocolate has all the qualities of a good boyfriend. However, I would NOT want to kiss chocolate. The evidence would be all over your face. I find it comforting that so many other girls feel the same way. To have a shoulder (or two) to lean on...it's nice. Yesterday offered me much solace. Ladies, I thank you!

There is another topic I wish to touch on. Towels. (My brain must be having one of its frequent spasms.) After our chocolate escapade, we returned to my friend’s house to indulge in a chick flick. I asked to use her bathroom and upon entry was stopped in my tracks. There, hanging on the rack was about 12 different towels. They were layered, biggest to smallest. Each had Valentine insignia. I realize that this is a common decorating technique. I find it a waste of fine linen. It was refreshing as I gazed at the towels in my own bathroom. Each could be used, not just admired. My favorite being the Little Mermaid towel hanging for the entire world to see (If the entire world happened to visit our bathroom. That's not awkward at all.). In decorative bathrooms (not that they're bad. They are, in fact, very pleasing to the eye), I find myself asking the question, "Where do I wipe my hands? I don't want to ruin their nice towels with...water." Oh, the humanity of it all. Why does the bathroom have to be another exhibit of status? We are a normal American family. If we wanted to create mountains of decorative bathroom towels, I admit, they would have a theme. Cartoon characters. I can see it now. At the bottom would be The Little Mermaid followed by Mickey Mouse. The finishing touch would be none other than the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Now wouldn't THAT be a sight to see? There would be none of this mushy Valentine nonsense. Valentine's is a holiday for the greeting card companies, but that is a subject for another time...possibly Valentine's Day.

I enjoyed the evening, needless to say, even though every turn in my friends house had some reference to love, Valentine's Day, etc. I think we all need those nights to clear our shoulders of ever-mounting bricks. Women of the world UNITE! Actually, I think that would be really scary. Never mind. I just had a vision of a mob of women throwing high-heeled shoes and screeching like banshees in the night. Frightening, but no more frightening than a lack of chocolate and fifteen towels that can't be used.

Imagination

As I drove home today, I noticed a mound of whipped cream over the mountains. I looked to the right and saw a floating frog. Just now, I glanced out of my window and there was an arm tightly grasping a hammer. Out my front door, an arrow was pointing to the west. Is this my imagination or can clouds tell us stories? (Word to the wise, don't check out clouds while you're driving. I had a few close calls. *Whew*). You may be asking, how can a visible mass of condensed droplets tell a story? I don't know, but they do to me.

I love watching the sky. One minute, wispy cirrus clouds leave a mark similar to that of foam from the ocean. The next, a towering giant (cumulonimbus) pours angrily across like a tidal wave. Some of my favorite clouds are the stratus, which look like dollops of heavy cream (or marshmallows, if you will) ready to be devoured. I have always enjoyed reading outside. There's something about good literature and nature that I find appealing. However, sometimes I find myself setting the book down and watching the vicissitude of the sky.

As one who has long hair, I've never relished the wind. I usually end up with a mouthful of hair whenever I leave the house. But have you ever sat and watched the clouds during a strong wind? The speed that they pass by...it's incredible. I must confess, if I had the opportunity, I would probably be a storm chaser. I have an abnormal fascination with weather and natural disasters (i.e. volcanoes, earthquakes). Normal people probably see ornery cumulonimbus clouds and get nervous. "Oh, no. I HATE thunderstorms." Excitement is what I feel. From the dark, menacing underbelly, to the majestic overhang of the anvil, I find them beautiful. As a child (I've shared a lot about my childhood. Hmmm. Oh well!), my mom, my brother and I would sit on the porch and watch storms. Rainstorms, thunderstorms, electrical storms...you name it (one that happens in Utah, that is), we probably watched it. Have you ever watched an electrical storm? The scintillating bolts leap eerily across the clouds. These are rare storms. I've only seen a few and yet they rank on my list of favorite weather anomalies. Why? They are silent. In some cases, there is no thunder due to the distance and the cloud-to-cloud arching of the lightning. The electricity snakes across the clouds, showing each intricate detail. The display from these clouds is, indeed, toward the top of my list.

Have you ever watched a beautiful sunrise or sunset? I enjoy this activity particularly. What I revel in is the colors. I'll never forget the day I looked out the window and saw the most beautiful sunset. I ran outside (with my camera) and soaked in the intense colors. The effect was like unto a rainbow. At the horizon, there was a deep, luscious red that blended into a vibrant orange. As my gaze lifted the orange softened until it met the clouds. They were purple, straight from the crayon box, the doodle of a child. You know the kind, where the kid is angry and presses the crayon so hard it snaps. That purple transfused with blue, creating a color that could never be duplicated. Looking straight up, the clouds were stained with this inimitable shade. The pictures don't do justice.

And so, I invite you to let your imagination run wild. The next time you leave your house, pay attention to the marvelous show above you. But remember...don't watch the clouds while you're driving.