Now What?

London Day 1 part 3

2012-02-23T16:01:00.006-08:00

Parliament
Big Ben

I headed back to Paddington Station, figured out the tube system and hopped off at Westminster. I exit the tube station and find my find myself face to face with Big Ben himself. Parliament and Westminster Abbey towering over me. The evening air is crisp and the fall leaves rustle in the trees. I walk along the outside of the buildings, stopping to read plaques trying to learn a little something about these amazing structures. Really the most impressive things that originally come to mind are that famous people are married and buried here and the same architect built the Downton Abbey house. Yeah, I didn't really learn much but oh boy is it purdy.

This two weeks of my life have taught me a lot about myself and one of those things is that I have a deep love for uniforms. Ethiopian schools require their students to wear them and each school has different colors. I noticed that I lite right up when I'd see the groups of kids heading home from school wearing any array of colors. Navy blue and tan, green and white, and even the purple and yellow I remember so fondly from my high school. Girls in long skirts, boys in pants. It was a strange realization but genuine nonetheless. So you can imagine my delight when I strolled up to Westminster's doors to find this...

It was like I had stumbled onto Hogwarts graduation ceremony. I not a Harry Pottite mind you but I can get on board the Hogwarts train for the uniforms alone. It was ridiculous how much joy this scene brought me. The proof is in the completely voyeuristic nature of this photo. Sorry kids. I know we're strangers but you've got rockin' uniforms and I feel the need to Memorex all things.

I made my way over Westminster bridge pausing to take in the view of the London Eye and the banks of the River Thames. To say that this moment is surreal is quite the understatement. It's an unbelievable experience to be in such a romantic place, the water glimmering in the fading sunlight. This is a place where poetry and music are conceived in the hearts of dreamers.

I stroll along the Thames taking in all that the area provides on a brisk Friday night. Street performers, boats on the river, couples hurrying off for a sunset ride on the London Eye. I stumble upon what I think is a Farmer's Market but upon further investigation find it's full of sweet concoctions that I could never begin to know the true names of. Scrumptious tarts filled with fruits, brownies so dark with chocolate that they're black in color and swimming in sugary goodness. This market is no joke. Maybe 50 booths and each one more delicious looking than the next. Each booth is manned by a chef. Not a vendor, an honest to goodness chef. Some are whipping up confections right here and now. The dinner tents smell of exotic spices and delicious woods. And then I wish my friend Rachel was here. Oh how she would love this. But no. It's me standing here in her element feeling guilty that this fantastic place is being wasted on me. I wish I was a foodie.

I pass by a coffee tent that smells incredible and what do my little eyes spy but the now oh so familiar colors of Ethiopia. Ethiopia is very well known for coffee. It's believed that Ethiopia was the first place to have coffee and they still widely hold a coffee ceremony for special occasions. The vendor is from Shashamane, Ethiopia and is surprised to hear I was just there this morning. His cool dreds and awesome accent make me miss it already.

I sit on a bench by the river full of anticipation and people watch until the lights of Parliament illuminate my soul. It really is a magical sight, Big Ben and the surrounding buildings lit up against the dark blue sky. Even the light of the street lamps dance on the water. I half expect Peter Pan himself to come swooping down around this iconic scene laid before me. These moments are like drugs to a girl with an overactive imagination and I'm enjoying my fix.

London Day 1 part 2

2012-02-22T14:23:00.000-08:00

a

I arrive in Paddington station and decide to just walk the streets. I have no plans, no itinerary and no one but me to make decisions. I walk up to street level, stop at the street side and take in my surroundings. Cars, buses and the glorious black taxis that make me want to squeal with delight hurry down the lanes on the wrong side of the road. Note to self: Look both ways when crossing the street. Twice for good measure.

Right or left? Right! I just walk and walk and walk. The buildings are gorgeous. Everything screams elegance and times gone by. There is molding and texture and detail to every doorway. So much white. So much history and care. It's all too lovely to imagine let alone take in. I feel as though I've been sucked into the movie screen while watching Notting Hill which is very strange until I realise that I am in fact strolling in Notting Hill gate. Is this actually happening? A giggle escapes my lips as I wait on the street corner for my chance to cross and I must seem like a schizophreniac on holiday but I really don't care.

The beautiful tree lined streets are quiet and chilled with the fall air. I find little wonders that delight my heart. A red telephone booth, a gorgeous church around every corner. How could anyone not love this city? I've only stepped foot here 20 minutes ago and it's captured me entirely.

It's mid-afternoon so school has been let out and families are ushering children toward home. I see women around my age (okay maybe in their twenties, I did say around) loading young ones into car seats and strollers and up stairs into gorgeous white buildings. I envision my life if transplanted to this very moment. Me walking the kiddos home from school with promises of a stroll in Hyde Park if they finish their homework before dinner. If these ladies can do it why shouldn't we? They're young and obviously available for their children during the day. If they can swing housewifery in London so can I.

And then I slide down the slippery slope of my imagination back toward reality. THEY ARE NANNIES YOU TWIT!!! Young women in an ancient neighborhood carved out of white marble, hands full of well dressed children at 3:30 in the afternoon? There are mums and dads off busily working 14 hour days to afford this precious picturesque place. I'm so deflated I can hardly muster the energy to blame them.

London Day 1

2012-02-08T09:47:00.001-08:00

There is no possible way that I would have a layover and not leave the airport. I've never been ANYWHERE up to this point in my life and I couldn't live with myself if I sat in an airport in some fabulous place like Italy or Amsterdam and never stepped outside. So when we were making plane reservations Celese found that it was cheaper to have a stay-over than it was to fly straight home. Hallelujah!!! London here I come.

Apparently my No Sleep While Flying habit lives on because my flight left Ethiopia at 3 am and I stared out the window into the dark earth below me until the sun illuminated the plain, brown scenes of Jordan. We flew to Amman but never got off the plane. Just exchanging crew and picking up more passengers.

I'm very glad that I didn't feel the need to explore Jordan just because we were landing there. The view from the plane showed a baron, brown desert. The phrase 'there's no place like home' must be purely sentimental because the ground beneath me is very familiar. All of the buildings are brown rectangles. Like a small child built their own city using only dirt and brown moving boxes. It looked very uninteresting. I'm happy to sit on the plane for an hour and then be on my way.

I know I'm a travel novice but never could I have predicted the experience I had with this new crew. The crew's chipper English accents did help put a lighter even comical shade to things. I can't seem not to giggle like a silly school girl every time someone speaks to me. For some reason it makes me giddy. I'm seated in the very last row of the plane which neighbors the flight attendants area which means I'm privy to all of their going-ons. Starting with a male attendant attempting to stow his luggage in the compartment above me and almost dropping is carry on bag on my head. His apology for the almost horrible incident was appreciated. Then the lead flight attendant begins to demand cleaning products from the ground crew in Jordan. "I need sanitizing products immediately." Another flight attendant inspects the lavatory and reminds her that the plane has only been in route for a couple of hours. She replies,"This plane has come from AFRICA! Everything needs to be sanitized."Her response is unsettling to say the least. Horrifying really. I'm now envisioning this woman as Hilly from The Help. Maybe there's an initiative I don't know about but if the plane came from Africa who does she think is going to use the bathroom? No one got off the plane!

Of course it only gets worse. A message is read over the loud speaker as an attendant walks down the aisle spraying insecticide throughout the cabin. I'm caught so off guard. Honestly the attendant is talking so quickly that I can't decipher her accent fast enough and all I catch is "this has been approved by the World Health Organization as safe but you may cover your eyes and mouth as a precaution." Can you say Ellis Island? I find it hard to believe that in 2011 I'm being deloused on an airplane. It's obviously a necessary procedure. I mean I did in fact bring lice treatment with me and plan on boiling myself in a hot tub of water when I reach London but oh my am I concerned about the plight of the world at this moment.

Later I'm treated to the real life drama of a flight attendant and his life partner. Some kind of custody battle over a child. The other attendants were very sympathetic to whatever was happening and I'm so nosey that I was grateful for the distraction. Remember, I'm not an easy flier? I like getting my mind off the fact that I'm being hurled through the air in a very heavy machine. I'm glad that I don't sleep well on planes. The view is amazing from 30,000 feet. I saw Austria and Turkey and a slew of others that I can't name. I saw the Nile river, mountains, craters, lakes. Much better than the insides of my eyelids.

We land at Heathrow in the afternoon and I pay to stow my bags at the airport so I don't have to lug them around with me. I convert some dollars to pounds and after trying for three days, in about a zillion different ways, will eventually find out that you can only exchange Ethiopian Birr in Ethiopia. Ce La Vie. I'll send it to Nati.

I'm anxious to spend as much time as possible in London so I fore go the tube and take the much faster Heathrow Express instead. The scene out the train window is vastly different than the views I've been experiencing the last 10 days. I can't believe how picturesque England is. Even from the air the world below seems quaint and lovely. Everything is green and reminiscent. I've also developed a horrible problem. Everything makes me giggle. I have a smile permanently plastered on my face. I have to use great restraint not to giggle when people talk to me. I hope I can keep it together well enough not to seem like a simpleton or drug addicted.

Ethiopia Day 10 part 4

2012-01-26T17:11:00.001-08:00

The Fab Five headed back to the Morrell offices housing to hang out until we had to head to the airport at midnight. Kate and I had some dinner nearby. Another club sandwich experiment didn't disappoint. We also had the absolute best waiter that either of us had ever had in Ethiopia or the U.S.. We made sure to express our gratitude and let him know just how impressed we were. He's a student at a nearby school that teaches service for travel and tourism. He was so sweet and very grateful for our kind assessment. I wrapped up half of my dinner and happily gave it to a wheel chair bound women and her son as we left the restaurant .

The Fab Five spent the rest of the night hanging out in the common area at the house with Jason, Gemilla (the maid) and Happy (the guard). Happy loved showing us pictures of his wife and new son. I don't know Happy's real name. Everyone calls him Happy because of his big. bright, smile he always wears. Earlier in the week Gemilla braided my hair in a tight corn row fashion. She offered to do my entire head in braids but I thought I might look like a crazy person. I feel a little too old and white to rock such a hairstyle. Now I totally wish I would've let her. She studied to be a hairstylist but no one is hiring. She hopes to someday have the money to start a shop of her own. I hope her dream comes true.

We played catch with some of the toys I brought, traded photo files and used the Internet. Then it was time to say goodbye to Nati. It was a sad moment only lessened by the hope that his visa would be approved and he'd be heading to the U.S. next month. It would be amazing to see him in the states and show him around. Introduce him to the ocean maybe? I sent him home with some nail polish and toys for his younger sister and the hope that we'd see each other again soon.

Kate had a cab driver friend pick us up at midnight. On our final car ride threw the streets I tried to absorb every last sight and scent. I was surprised to see the streets we had so frequently walked lined with sleeping bodies. Kate had often commented "Where are all of the homeless people?" Apparently the Bole area where we've spent most of our time is a popular place for tourists. When important figures like various government and UN officials and diplomats visit the local police push the homeless population into other lower profile areas. It seems that this late hour has proven that the homeless population is still present though drastically minimized. Even more people usually occupy these streets.

It's a true and real last look at this amazing place. Bodies huddled under thread bare blankets and tarps and pressed against the cold, unyielding ground. The feelings of incredible discomfort and uneasiness they must have is hard to imagine. These final images, while having great impact, are only part of the experience that has taught me great lessons during my time in Ethiopia.

I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for all of the temporal gifts God has blessed me with and I have a confirmed knowledge that these blessings, while seemingly so necessary and vital, are indeed fleeting and vulnerable. It is only by great fortune that I sleep free from danger, hunger and hopelessness. I should protect my good fortune. I should find ways not only to share what I might be given but strive to expand it, multiply it as a way of honoring my great fortune. I need to strive to be more worthy of such blessings.

I've also learned that people are people no matter where you are, no matter where you go. There is good and bad everywhere and in everything but mostly good.

People are God's children. We all want to feel love and give love because we come from His love.

Things don't have to be understood by someone else to be valid. If it matters to you than it matters.

There is no dream too small, no dream not worth dreaming.

Ethiopia Day 10 part 3

2012-01-04T12:01:00.000-08:00

Spice market
Magnes and I
Spice market (this woman had been hacking away at something)

The Fab Five headed to the Merkato, the largest market in Africa. It really is an amazing sight. Street after street filled with row after row of everything under the African sun. Stalls filled with jewelry, rugs, knives, clothes. Here lye the first notions of organization. General areas where one might find a certain item. Clothing here, tourist souvenirs there. We arrived in late afternoon and really only saw a sliver of the market for ourselves.

At almost every meal Kate and Nati have talked about kitfo. It never fails that when opening a menu one of them would mention it. Kitfo is an Ethiopian dish made of minced raw meat which is covered in an authentic butter sauce. Nati says it's worth a try and Kate warns never to let anyone order it and not because of the raw meat but because of the butter. None of us ever did order it but many discussions were had about the terrible taste of the butter here and Nati coming to the local butters defense. We were always served American style butter and never had the opportunity to taste the local fare.

We ventured into a section at the Merkato that had stalls filled with local butter for sale. We're not talking stacks of filled margarine containers endorsed by Fabio. The smell alone would make you say "I can't believe it's called butter." A counter top against the length of the stall holds a tall white mound of the strong smelling concoction. I've never smelt anything like it before. It's difficult to find words and that's frustrating for me but I have no point of comparison to this. The best description I can conjure up is that the air was heavy with the smell, thick feeling. No sweetness to the scent but not quite vinegar either. Maybe what I would expect lard made in a meat processing plant to smell like? No that might not do this justice. It's unique and my teeth instinctively clinch to brace myself just at the memory of it. This is the butter section so I eventually have to turn my head away from the butter stalls to feel like I'm breathing fresher air. It makes an impression for sure. If ever tempted to try it I might have to order it as "death on toast please!"

We each wander and shop for souveniers. Nati is an excellent translator and haggler. He makes sure we're not being taken advantage of. I tried on a traditional dress that I might have been able to wear to church but couldn't pull the trigger. I bought a scarf, tablecloth, wooden cross, doylies and some jewelry at the Leprosy hospital. I found some extras here at the Merkato like necklaces for my girls and the traditional Christian wooden cross on black thread necklaces for each of my friends and Young Women who helped with the service project prior to my trip.

Our last stop is the spice market. Kate says it's one of her favorite sections. Along the way I stop and buy toothbrushes from a young man on the street. Ethiopian toothbrushes are actually short sticks that have been whittled smooth. You'll often see people walking down the streets scratching at their teeth with the "toothbrushes." I also bought some packs of gum which here they call masticka and come in interesting flavors like banana. This is how I met Magnes.

Magnes followed along with us down the way to the spice market. This section looks like a fenced in dirt parking lot. Vendors have set up make shift awnings as stalls against the fence line. Each has barrels filled with varying spices that fill the entire space with fragrances. I reach in my backpack for my camera to get some photos and video and Magnes, in her sweet small voice and with a meek smile, offers a warning "careful for your camera please." Magnes is reminding me that the Merkato has high incidents of theft. I've had plenty stolen from my bag just walking down the street so I have been cautious about drawing attention to myself by taking photos around the Merkato. The spice market is set back in it's own area so I thought this might be the safest place to snap some shots.

Still, her words snap me back into MY reality. While it's exciting to be surrounded by interesting and new things and people, trying to embrace the culture here, this isn't like a farmer's market in the U.S.. I've become more accepting of the facts of life in Ethiopia after being surrounded by this standard of living for the past 10 days. Now as I stand in this market, preparing to head back home I'm struck with the reality of the situation. Magnes is bundled up in a warm jacket selling gum on the street. She's been left an only child after the death of her sister and her mother is sick. The fence opposite the spice stalls is lined with makeshift homes fashioned from sticks and tarps. While my kids are always begging to hold lemonade stands in front of our house to feel empowered by their own enterprise and the joy of earning a little bit of money Magnes, like so many other children, is no doubt trying to provide food for herself and her mother. And here a ten year old little girl roams the market alone and offers a warning to me, the adult. If I'm at risk then what dangers lye in wait here for a young girl? It's a harsh reality. I'm glad she speaks great English and I compliment her on it. Glad when she says she attends school and lives with her mother near the market.

The sunlight dwindling in the sky is a our cue to head out and find a minibus as the shops and vendors all pack their wares away for safe keeping. I've read accounts of being at the market after dark. The stalls all closed up tight but in the streets another business coming to light. Starving girls taking to the darkened market streets in hopes of selling the last thing they have that might fetch a price. Some girls as young as maybe eleven. Magnes is ten. I wonder what the impending night sky means for her.

I say goodbye to Magnes as we exit threw a small side gate leaving her in the dirt lot. I hope that she's able to head to a safe home with her mother. Hope that she'll sleep warmly and with a full belly. I hope that it's not uncommon for perfectly well off kids to hang around the market after school and maybe sell some things in their spare time. These are the hopes of a perfectly well off foreigner that will never really know. I've prayed often for Magnes since our meeting. Prayed for all the children of the world who are put into such circumstances. Prayed for the world leaders and the everyday individuals who can and do make a difference in the lives of forgotten children. Sometimes prayer is all we have to offer. Sometimes it's enough and sometimes it's just the spark for action we've needed.

Ethiopia Day 10 part 2

2012-01-03T12:54:00.000-08:00

KK didn't want her picture taken

Across the world

This year my kids have been learning to sew. I don't sew but my very sweet friend/cousin Katie offered to help us out. One of the projects we worked on were dolls for each of my girls. When my little KK was gathering items to send to Ethiopia she volunteered this doll. I promised I'd find a little girl who would appreciate it and bring her back a photo. I took a limited supply of things when I traveled in the countryside because we were kind of backpacking it, so I left most of the larger toys and books in Addis. Since today was my last day in Ethiopia I stuffed all the items into my backpack determined to find good homes for them.

This little girl was too precious. She was with her father at what looked to be a repair shop. I asked the man if it was okay to give her a gift and take a photo for my daughter who made it. He obliged and encouraged his daughter toward me. She was cute and hesitant as she should be to strangers. It was a quick exchange but one that has lasting memory and affect on me. I'm grateful that my kids have had an opportunity to share in this experience with me. It was amazing to feel my kids spirits with me as I gave out their heart felt gifts. I missed them and it was gratifying to know that they are always beside me in everything I do.

Ethiopia Day 10

2012-01-03T11:19:00.000-08:00

This morning started with a German pancake for breakfast. Yumm-o! Most days in Ethiopia start with eggs in some form and toast for breakfast. On traveling days I seem to have started my days with cookies and cake. I avoid juice as a way to keep digestive illness at bay. It's worked so far and I'm sticking with it but the juice really does look divine. I've had exactly three sips my entire time here and even then I said a fervent prayer of repentance. Literally trying to will my intestine to forgive me. Today's my last day in Ethiopia and while I'd love to indulge in a thick mango concoction the reality of a 8 hour flight to London strengthens my resolve. I have learned my lesson after getting ill in Mexico and I've come prepared. I'm choosing caution. I'm choosing not to invoke the use of the piles of antibiotics, antidiarrheals and adult diapers that are stashed in my luggage. This is progress for an easy going, carefree kind of gal like me. I'm usually all "ce la vie" about everything. I think I might be evolving!

Another note on the food: It's become a bit of a research project and game for me to see the varying ways in which restaurants serve a club sandwich here. I've coined it "the club sandwich factor." Over the past 10 days 5 club sandwiches have been ordered by our group and I noticed that not one was made of the same ingredients. Two sandwiches were ordered from the same restaurant but on different days and yet another two sandwiches were from the same restaurant only a few hours apart. A great thing about the U.S. is the predictability of things.

In the States one can expect that when you order a club sandwich you will be given a sandwich made of three slices of toasted sandwich bread, turkey meat, bacon, lettuce and tomato. I realize that this isn't a set in stone law of any kind but it's the standard. In Ethiopia we had eggs and slaw on a bun, eggs, lettuce and tomato on a bun, one that would more accurately be called a Patty Melt and finally slaw on toast which was the closest to the real thing as it was huge and cut into quarters. Yes, the biggest difference in food has been predictability. There aren't any franchises or chain restaurant adhering to strict consistency guidelines. Is that really so bad? It made for an exciting dining experience and you'd never see the ice cream guy accidentally filling your cone with "too much" soft serve and tossing it into the trash until he gets it just right. I think I prefer the unexpected.

This morning we spent a lot of time walking trying to get Celese to a meeting that she needed to be at. It was a great way to see Addis but I think Celese would have preferred a taxi especially when there was a miscommunication and she was forced to choose between two appointments she'd made. The pace is much slower in Ethiopia. Not a lot of hustle and that can take some getting used to.

Kate, Nati and I continued on to the first appointment to meet Chambay, the John Deere dealer in Ethiopia. He's another success story of course. He's in love with Scotland where he attended university and with his wife who is much younger than he is. He told the sweet story of knowing her when she was a little girl and then returning to Ethiopia after completing his education to find her a beauty that caught his eye with a disapproving father. Now they have a family and run a business together. I've met a lot of successful people, millionaires even, in the last 10 days. It's an interesting part of the trip to say the least.

Ethiopia- Day 9 part 4

2011-11-29T20:05:00.000-08:00

The Fab Five headed to Lime Tree to meet Yusef for dinner. The downstairs of Lime Tree is a dark, hip club/bar. Being in such cool place surrounds is rare for me so I was thrilled. When Yusef found out that none of us would be ordering cocktails he lead us upstairs to a well lit restaurant. While it was nice, and still pretty trendy, it was decorated more like a juice bar and I longed to return to the mysterious depths below.

Yusef is a friend of Kate's family and a native of Ethiopia. He, like so many of the people we've met here, is a self made success. He grew up the son of a poor farmer with twelve brothers and sisters. His parents stressed the importance of getting an education. He attended University both in Ethiopia and in Santa Barbara. He now makes his life in Ethiopia.

Yusef and I have a lot in common and it's really fun to talk about kids, Disneyland and the central coast of California where I grew up. Yusef and his siblings have very interesting life stories. All 13 children are successful in their own right and live all over the world. His family has accomplished so much and hearing about it is amazing.

Yusef recommends I visit his sister's restaurant in Montecito next time we're in that area. I've actually seen his sister featured on Oprah. I will definitely be visiting her restaurant and dropping his name to try and meet her. She is an amazing woman who went from being married off and having her first baby at 13 years old to raising that son in the US and then attending college right along side him. She's incredibly successful and owns her restaurant and a seaside home in Montecito. It would be a pleasure to meet her.

Yusef leaves to catch his daughters before they fall asleep for the night and the Fab Five head to New York cafe for dessert. The cafe is decorated with murals and photos of the New York skyline. They play loud American music and serve American cuisine. We order a variety of ice cream sundaes with exotic flavors like mango and papaya. The fruit flavor ice cream tastes like Fruit Loop cereal and has more of a malted ice consistency. Not exactly the sweet treat from home we were looking for but good none the less.

Ethiopia- Day 9 part 3

2011-11-28T13:42:00.000-08:00

Jason, Kate and I
Boys of Where Love Is

After leaving the Fistula hospital, Kate, Jason and I headed to Jason's home for boys. Getting around Addis isn't quick. We walk a LOT. Mini-buses are great but you hop on one and it takes awhile as they drop off and pick up passengers along the way. Then you get out and walk some more until you get to another area where you hop on another minibus. Taxis are very quick but cost much more than a minibus ride. A taxi to drive you quite a distance around town costs about $5-$7 and you can split the cost between passengers. A minibus will cost around 5-50 cents per person each time you hop on one. Minibuses are awesome for the experience. There's nothing better than doing things like the locals do. You meet people when you're crammed into a small space together.

It took some time and effort to make the journey to Jason's place. We stopped along the way for a quick drink and snack. The cafe is owned by a pair of Europeans so there was a variety of foods to choose from. A number of my meals have consisted of cake, donuts or cookies and a Coke. Interesting to say the least. This time I indulged in Baklava. It was very wet and sweet. Yummy.

We stopped at a near buy fruit stand and I bought some mangos, bananas and watermelon to bring to the boys. Jason tries to get the boys fruit as often as he can but with skyrocketing prices it ends up being maybe once a week. I didn't want to show up empty handed and I thought it would be fun to have a treat with the boys.

Jason has about 30 boys that we has rescued from living on the streets. Some have been helped to reunite with their families. Often children leave their homes because they feel they are a financial burden. They go off on their own so that the family will have more money to provide for the other children. Simple, small monetary help can keep a child off the streets, attending school and with their families. It doesn't take much. Five to ten dollars a month is enough to keep some children in their homes.

Other children leave home because of abuse and neglect and others are orphaned. Jason's organization, Where Love Is, has two apartments which are home to some of these boys who, for whatever reason, are unable to return home. Jason keeps the boys in school and strives to help them each reach their potential. The big, bright buildings are only a few years old and are minimalistic in design.

The boys have lovingly painted the walls of their home in happy colors. Sets of bunk beds line the walls of the living room and bedroom. I'm very happy to see that the apartment has a modern bathroom and a kitchen space just off the living room. The rooms are very tidy and the cement floor is free of litter and clutter. I have a feeling most homes where seven teenage boys share a small space would look a bit less cared for.

One by one the boys file in the front door to meet us. Half of the boys live in another neighboring apartment but this apartment is the "hang out." They've just finished their dinner but want to offer us something to eat so they whip up some yummy salsa to top our injera. Chopped tomatoes and onions with lime. Delicious! It's the best thing I've eaten in Ethiopia. And I've been eating cake for most my meals so that's really saying something.

The boys have just received drawings and letters from one of their "brothers" who is currently living in the US undergoing medical treatment and a guest who had visited them in the past. They are hanging the drawings up on the walls to decorate the space. The tv is tuned to a music station and the boys teach me Ethiopian style dances which is mainly done with shoulder movements. They say I'm pretty good at it which makes me very happy to hear. I think the key is not being afraid to make a fool of yourself.

The boys pass around a platter of the cut bananas and watermelon. Just as I start to bite into the watermelon the words of my husband flash threw my mind. "I've never been so sick as when I ate watermelon in Paraguay." Oh yeah! My hubby lived in Paraguay for two years in a constant state of loose stole but was never really "sick" not counting when he and his companion ate watermelon and almost instantly become horribly ill. Passed out unconscious, almost didn't make it home, thought they'd been drugged sick. And this happened twice. That story has always made we weary of eating watermelon in other countries. So with a prayer in my heart I'll just have this one wedge of melon and hope for the best. Of course all was well and I survived unscathed.

It's starting to get dark so Kate and I head out and a few of the boys walk us the distance to where we can grab a minibus. I'm glad that they came with us but they live in a nice, safe area so the only risk is being hit by a car after dark which is still a very real risk. There were sweet families walking hand in hand down the busy street. I've been wearing multiple bracelets on my wrist or carrying them in my pockets and handing them out to people on the streets. Just outside the apartment complex were two adorable little kids all alone in front of a small shop. When I tried to give them bracelets they had no idea what I was doing. One of the boys explained that it was a gift and I wasn't trying to sell them anything. They eventually took them with smiles. Yep, pretty good neighborhood.

These boys are so familiar and kind. We chat about school and life in the states. One of Jason's boys has been accepted to University(I think in Gondor) and everyone is excited and proud of him. I am too. What Jason has devoted his life to is amazing. These boys are definetely where love is.

I left some fun activities and books at the house for the boys and I'm sad I have to leave so soon but we have a dinner date to get to.

A Walk To Beautiful

2011-11-17T14:14:00.000-08:00

This documentary is incredibly beautiful. If you want to see what Ethiopia looks and feels like, this is perfect. I didn't take much video because I was too busy experiencing everything first hand. Watching this video was like coming home. It was awesome to see the transportation, homes, landscape and hospital that I remember from my there. Hearing the language again was magical. I'm grateful for technology that allows us to reexperience so much of our lives. Watch it! You'll be glad you did.

****None of my links are working but you can find it at PBS.org

Ethiopia- Day 9 part 2

2011-11-17T12:54:00.000-08:00

Eventually I had to leave Mother Teresa's. It was nap time for residents and patients and prayer time for the caregivers. Leaving was only made easier by having to get to an appointment at the Hamlin Fistula hospital. I would have gladly stayed to mop floors and wash dishes. Anything to help and have an opportunity to talk with the wonderful sisters that devote their lives to God's work and allow it to manifest itself in a fourth world country.

Did you know there are fourth world countries? The 'world' scales was an old system of compartmentalizing different countries mostly based on their relationship with the USA after World War II. It's outdated but even now we still use the term 'third world country'. So here's how I see it. A First World country is generally thought to be a democratic, industrialized, capitalist country. Second World would be socialist/communist, industrialized countries (China). Third World can include very poor area and very rich areas. For example, Saudi Arabia would categorized as Third World because despite it's wealth there is not an open flow of information to it's citizens and opposition to public policy is not condoned. Fourth World would be an accurate title for developing countries like those in Africa. Countries that have high levels of poverty, infant mortality rates and those that rely heavily on other industrialized nations.

So off I set to journey across the capital city in this fourth world country. The hospital is located in a familiar section of the city. It makes me happy to realize that after a few days I'm recognizing areas and getting my barrings. The compound is beautiful like the Leprosy hospital grounds. There are many modest, modern buildings situated among the hillside. Trees and flowers and grass cover every inch of the grounds which gives an atmosphere of love and care. I've heard and read a bit about the work done at this hospital and it's surreal to be standing within it's walls. The Hamlin Fistula hospital specializes in recovery for women suffering from obstetric fistula. Go here for more information

Our guide takes us into the large room that is used as a surgical recovery area. Windows line each wall and the room holds about 50 beds. There are women convalescing here but not every bed is filled. The nurses, in there uniforms and traditional white aprons look as though they've stepped out of a novel written long ago. They're mopping floors and the sent of bleach and the sight of their 1800's style makes me feel both nostalgic and happy. This is a clean, sterile hospital. A place of real medical care. Possibility.

We talk about the wonderful surgeons and nursing staff that devote their lives here. We talk about the amazing women who make their way to this facility. The outreach program that the hospital has created allows education to the villages in the countryside so some patients are found and rescued by outreach workers. Most beg their ways here. Some walking for 14 days to get here. Once a woman arrives here she is completely taken care of. There is no cost to her for treatment, food, medication, housing. This is often the first kindness she has received in quite some time. Women suffering from obstetric fistula are often abandoned by their husbands and families. They are outcasts of the community and have no knowledge of a cure. Those who hear about the hospital are the lucky ones.

Not everyone is curable. Some conditions can be helped but can't entirely be repaired. While we stand outside the Oprah Winfrey building the psychologist walks up and joins us. She tells us about her work with the unfortunately incurable few. All of the women here have suffered a horrible physical trauma and devastating social consequences. Hearing that there is hope to be cured is literally life saving. Some cases are so severe or have been neglected for so long that doctors are not able to make a full repair. These women are given hope as well. They can be fitted with Stoma bags and with proper education and care can return to their homes and families and live a normal life.

It is a struggle for these women to come to terms with their circumstances. The psychologist is their to help them threw these depressing and confusing times. It often takes months for women to come to grips with their situation enough to accept the use of a Stoma bag. Those brave women are given the knowledge and supplies needed to care for their bags for 6 months and then will need to get in touch with an outreach clinic for check ups and to replenish supplies. When circumstances don't allow the woman to return home she is invited to stay and live in a nearby compound where jobs, training and adequate medical care are available to her. She'll live out her life amongst women who understand her trials. Many women who work in hospital are former patients themselves. There's no one better to help the new patients then these veteran angels who've lived threw it themselves.

I start to get emotional as I think of the homes I've visited in the countryside and picturing having to clean and care for something so sensitive as a Stoma bag under those conditions. My father-in-law survived colo-rectal cancer but did not come out unscathed. Standing here on the opposite side of the world I think of him. I've known what a challenge his daily life has been in this department and can't fathom the increased complications that would come with being a woman in this country with these set of issues. A sterile environment is essential. I'm grateful for so much.

As we visit a few more buildings I gain a little shadow trailing behind me. Women often bring their children with them to the hospital. Once women have been helped it's imperative for them to return if they become pregnant again. Fistula is a recurring problem and babies must be born at the hospital. This little guy is around two and half years old and his mother is here undergoing treatment. He's adorable. I visit with a new mother and her brand new baby. The happiness and pride is evident on her face. This place is so calming and inspiring.

Next is the physical therapy room. There are eight women arranged in a half circle and seated in wheelchairs in the center of room. This room is where the women work to regain the strength that their bodies have lost due to their conditions. Often women with fistulas are hidden away in dark homes. They remain seated at all times and often hold their legs crossed at all times in an effort, to no avail, to slow the uncontrollable drainage of urine and/or fecal matter. This leaves the women with weak bodies and often unusable limbs making for even more to recover from after surgery. Some women must undergo months of physical therapy before they are well enough for surgery.

When I express how lovely and well organized the work they are doing is our guide replies with a bit of wonderment "we have a lot of money. The Hamlin's have always felt that they were doing God's work and he has blessed their work."

We purchase items from the gift shop where woven crafts that patients have made are sold. I also bought a copy of Dr. Catherine Hamlin's book Hospital By The River and have since really enjoyed reading it. There's also a documentary about the hospital called A Walk To Beautiful that I need to check in to. Here

Ethiopia-Day 9 part 1

2011-11-15T10:54:00.000-08:00

****I originally marked this as Day 8 but really it was Day 9****

Kate and I have been counting the minutes until this day finally arrives. Today is filled entirely with the best places to be in Addis. With the people. Hospitals, orphanages and Jason's boy's home. We are happy to the point of giddiness. We can hardly stand ourselves. Two peas in a pod I think.

The Fab Five, as we we've come to be known, head out to the court house to bring a thank you letter and flowers to the judge who eventually finalized the adoption of Kate's five niece and nephews. Jim and I waited outside the building and were treated to a parade of inmates and their guards heading in to court. Each inmate is handcuffed to another and the guards carry rifles at the ready. Quite the sight.

Amongst the happier parade participants were the sweet and excited adoptive families I saw coming and going. They had guides and social workers with them and all seemed to be spilling over with excitement. I can imagine it would be joyful to have this lengthy process finally coming to a close and be able to bring their sweet children home.

Later that day Kate and I hooked up with Jason and headed to Mother Teresa Mission hospital and orphanage. The roads we walk are lined with homes made of eucalyptus poles and corregated metal or tarps. As we pass a school children whistle and shout at us from the open third and fourth windows. We return their attention with waves and smiles. We approach Mother Teresa Mission and bang on the tall, red metal gates. The guard allows us in. Jason has brought fleece blankets from the U.S. to give to the mission and leaves them with the nun who greets us and assigns a young man to walk us threw the facilities.

Our guide is named Barook and he's a pharmacy student. He walks with a slight limp and I wonder if he was once a patient here. I tell him about my having been a Pharmacy Technician in the U.S.. At the end of our visit he invites me to return and talk pharmacueticals. I wish I could. Barook would be a fantastic person to spend time with.

I'm extremely blessed to have Jason with me. Jason has worked at Mother Teresa's previously and some resident patients remember him well. The Sisters are very protective of those in their care. They would never let just anyone walk off the street and come threw their facility, though the color of my skin does seem to open a lot of doors quite easily. This isn't a tourist attraction and I'm grateful we have a valid purpose for being here. Kate is staying in Ethiopia for two months and plans to devote most of her time to working in Mother Teresa Mission. This makes me both insane with envy and entirely comforted to know I'll hear word about these wonderful people through Kate long after I'm gone.

I first walk the open air hallway lined on either side with patients eating their lunches. Some eat a traditional injera and wat (fermented crepe and pureed grains or veggies) and others seem to have a pureed version of the same. The rooms are large and remind me of what an emergency Red Cross shelter would look like. Something I'm blessed to have only seen in pictures. Beds have been placed in neat rows touching head to toe. Every inch of the rooms are used. No space is left empty.

As I walk the halls and see each room of the large facility I'm struck by something I haven't entirely considered before, the severly handicapped. This mission is dedicated to the poor, destitute and dying. These are the poorest of the poor. There are also the mentally and physically handicaped of all ages. I have seen friends struggle with raising handicapped children. The tiring battle with hopelessness. The exhausting burden of twenty four care. Even with medical advancement, government help, a wide understanding of the sacredness of those afflicted by these challenges, it's still a struggle. I've watched as they dig deep and cling to their faith and the words of the Lord and turn their trials into blessings and growth.

Now when I pass those meager homes on the streets of Addis I picture the child bound within himself. Unable to gain control of his own body, desperatly wanting to communicate their thoughts, their love, their needs but their body is unyielding. What would life be to that child, to that parent in those living conditions. This mission is where those children can be found when there is no one left to hope for them. Here they are rescued.

As I entered the first children's room I was overwhelmed with emotion. Rows of beds still lined head to toe but stand higher off the ground hitting me at the waist level. A young boy that I gather is about 7 year old runs a staggered jog over to me and controls his arms enough to put them around me with a drool filled, open mouth hug. He rubs his face lovingly against my waist and looks up at my face. He releases his arms and begins banging his head against me. He is playful and sweet as he skips around the room wearing a tshirt and diaper.

I walk between a row of beds and look down at the beautiful faces. Their bodies bent and contorted in various angles. I stop at the first bed and reach for the boys hand. I bend down close and say "Salamno," 'hello in Amheric. I then speak in English saying things like "what a handsome boy." My tone alone is enough to bring ginormous smiles to his face and grunts of happiness. Each bed holds the same. A tiny, crooked body that houses an incredible child's spirit. I've seen Cerebral Palsy before, accompanied by deaf and blindness as well. It's an incredible experience to be here with these children, with their care givers. Everyone loves the touch of my hands and sounds of my voice. All I want to do is be in this room but it's nap time and our presence is getting everyone worked up.

Ethiopia- Day 8 part 2

2011-11-14T11:15:00.000-08:00

Our film crew
Traditional dinner

After touring the LDS church grounds Kate and I headed back to the Leprosy hospital. The sweet people there asked if we'd bring copies of their photos back to them. How could we say no? They were so kind and welcoming to us that we were happy to bring them their photos and spend more time with them.

Later we met Captain Solomon, the pilot who flew the plane that rescued Kate's brother-in-law Wes after his accident. He's a great man and like all of the other locals we've met he's a self made success out of extraordinary circumstances. He has a lovely office in a high floor of the building. There are large photos of various planes and landscapes that wall paper the open room. My favorite is of Capt. Solomon and Brad Pitt from a time when he flew Brad while he visited Ethiopia. There aren't many pilots in Ethiopia due to the cost it requires to train for such a job. In addition to his charter service, Captain Solomon also runs a flight school at a limited cost in hopes to allow others to fulfill their dreams of flying.

Captain Solomon's recollection of the events surrounding Wes' rescue paint a grave and stressful picture. Like everyone else he was most impressed with Wes' wife Alyssa's calm and faith. It was a stressful situation and Alyssa had every right to be frantic but instead she was steadfast and stalwart.

After our meeting we head down the street to a traditional Ethiopian restaurant that serves dinner with a show of Ethiopian dance. It's similar to what a luau in Hawaii would be like. It's for firinji. As we sat down a camera crew from ETV asked if we could be interviewed for a story. The crew was friendly and the interviewer a beautiful and sweet women. She asked us each the exact same questions so by the time it was my turn I decided to answer in very strange ways instead of the canned usual answers. Kate did the best job and after my return to the states I git an email saying she recorded us on Ethiopian tv. Hopefully I'll see that some time.

We ate injera and wat while we watched some very lively dancing. The crowd was so fun to watch as there was a local wedding party and a table of diplomats from the UN near us celebrating a birthday. I wanted to join in on any of these festive times bu decided to just sit back and people watch. I was really missing having some of our local friends with us.

Ethiopia- Day 8 part 1

2011-11-14T10:47:00.000-08:00

Baptismal clothes

Relief Society room

Today I was able to visit the LDS church compound in Addis. We walked down a long dirt road lined with compound gates topped with barbed wire. You can see an obvious difference as you approach the church compound. The metal fence allows a view into the grounds while two guards attend the gate. The grounds are green, lush and well cared for. The two story church building stands tall and clean with it's creamy white color. I speak to the gardener and complement her great work. I was able to meet Brother and Sister O'Crowley how are serving a humanitarian mission in Ethiopia. They have done and seen a lot and I'm so envious of the time they've been able to spend helping people in Africa. Humanitarian mission is on my Bucket List.

The church membership is growing in Ethiopia. There is a wonderful focus on faith in Jesus Christ and knowing that we are children of God. I met a seventeen year old boy who has been a member for three years. He's the only member in his family and loves to hang out at the church. The church building is modern and lovely. Quite the oasis from the city.

Building on the compound
Side view of church

View from the street
Guards at the gate

Ethiopia-Day 7

2011-11-08T08:20:00.000-08:00

tattoo art

Pizza Night
Women at leprosy/tb hospital
trying to spin wool
Men at work

My shoe shine friend
after Robei I needed a good scrub.

Street children are often found selling items like Masticka (gum) and Soft (tissues). Older kids sell books and black market DVDs. Some kids attend school in the morning or afternoon and in their off hours take to the streets to make money. One service the boys offer is shoe shining. After my rainy days in the bush my shoes we're in need of some freshening up. I could of hosed them off in the shower but decided I would finally be able to say "yes" when one of those sweet boys asked to shine my shoes. Thank goodness I was wearing my leather Chucks!

It was strange to stand over this little guy who was hard at work cleaning my shoes. It felt wrong on so many levels but the norm in this country. Very acceptable to give this child an opportunity to work instead of just handing out money. My shoes never saw such love before and I can say with confidence my heart never had either as I watched that little guy make his way down the city street with all I could offer him, a few Birr in his pocket, a bracelet on his wrist and a prayer for his future.

One of my favorite things I did while in Ethiopia, and really my entire purpose for my trip, was to visit hospitals, orphanages and organizations in Addis. This day was my opportunity to visit the ALERT hospital for Leprosy and Tuberculosis. The grounds of the hospital are a top a hill within the city. With green grass, established trees and flowers planted threw out, it's a lovely, peaceful place. We spent our time in the Handy Craft Shop area where patients who are under going treatment make items which are then sold in the store providing an income for themselves. Some of the items that are available are various fabrics made on looms such as table cloths, clothes and scarves, hand embroidery and many others.

It was such a soul changing experience to sit with these sweet people as they spent their time working their crafts. Most with shortened fingers and toes, a symptom of leprosy, still learning to make do with their circumstances. I entered a room that was dimly lit despite the bright afternoon sun. The room reminded me of those I'd seen on trips to California missions. There amongst the grey wood and the smell of dust and time were two men working at looms. I watched as they made the primitive machines come to life with their touch. Their hands gently guiding thread and their feet, placed within rope loops and suspended 6 inches off the ground, brought the tall frames into motion. They took pride in their work and it was fun to ask them questions and watch them make something out of nothing before our eyes.

Outside the building around the grounds are metal sheds that were full of women working on embroidery and crochet. I hand out suckers as we sit in the shed amongst the women and children. The ladies try and teach us to crochet and spin wool. We mostly did more damage than good but Nati was quite effective at spinning wool actually.

I received a lot of concern from back home about visiting a Leprosy hospital. It's been really wonderful to learn about Leprosy, how it's contracted, treated and the symptoms and side effects that people suffer from. No worries that I've contracted leprosy. Most things we believe about leprosy are untrue and it is curable. Patients are blessed to receive the treatment that the hospital offers and people from all over come here for treatment as well as medical training. Once an affected person has under gone treatment for 2 weeks they are no longer contagious. Since we're visiting a premier hospital on the subject I can safely assume that they would keep contagious patients isolated as to not spread disease.

This was my first experience with a medical facility in Ethiopia and I was very inspired by both the staff as well as the patients. Hospital grounds also house a nursing school and doctors from across the world come here to study about leprosy and tuberculosis. I've really enjoyed learning about the hospitals in Addis and the faithful doctors involved with their success. It definitely fans the flame I've had to be involved in nursing.

We ended the day with American pizza! It tasted like homemade pizza here. Yum! Kate and I couldn't stay put for the night so we wandered the streets in search for Henna. Our Muslim friend from the bus in Robei said we "must get henna tattoos" before we left Ethiopia. We did find a tattoo shop but the owner had no idea where to we'd find henna tattoos. As not to leave defeated, we opted for airbrushed temporary tattoos. Just a little silly late night fun. After our tattoo shop experience we walked to the New York cafe near our guest house to hang out with Jason. We had a great conversation and closed the place down.

Ethiopia- Day 6

2011-11-07T15:15:00.001-08:00

Death Defying bus ride Bieber style

In the morning we dashed off to the bus station. Kate and I went into a little cafe for a quick breakfast while Seid secured our ride. Chocolate cake and Coke for breakfast. Hey, it's about the same as donuts and hot chocolate, right? Seid found us a bus that was mostly full so we didn't have to wait but a few minutes before departure. We said our goodbyes to Seid and sent him home with some nice bracelettes for his mother, sister and cousin that people back home had made and sent with me to give as gifts. Seid protected us in so many ways and it was such a priviledge to spend time with him.

I had listened to the rain fall all night long which only heightened my anxiety for the ride back to Shashamane. We'd be driving for 5 hours threw the Bali National forest. That means mountain passes which in turn means hills and slopes. Do you remember that none of the roads are paved? Just checking. Rain + dirt roads+ Ethiopia= me more than a little nervous. Even of paved, straight, flat roads the buses often swerve and stop for animals. Add muddy downhill turns in a huge bus that has never seen a safety inspection? Yeah, I'm crapping my pants.

My imagination didn't prove far off. It was Sunday and there were a lot of people and animals on the mountain road presumably coming to and from churches and markets. Kate and I were seated between the driver and front passenger seats on a kind of ottoman which meant that we rode backwards and faced the entire bus of onlookers. It felt like a combination of being a zoo animal and the President of the Untied States at a White House press conference. It was all I could do not to ask for questions from the gallery.

We were asked several times to exchange seat with passengers in regular seats but it was all apart of the experience right? Well 5 hours later I could have maybe used a back rest. Our bus struggled up the hill at a sluggish pace but the driver made up for the lost time on the downhills.
There was a lot of praying happening on that bus. Elphaba may have been defying gravity but I was defying death. An awesome distraction from my impending doom was the music playing over the radio. Mostly Ethiopian music with an occasional Brian Adams or Celine Dion song. Kate took pity on me and participated in some public bus karaoke to keep my mind off the road.

The best well timed song started to play as the seemed to be careening down a muddy hill laden with people animals. The sinfully sweet sound of "Oh Wooahhh (x3) I thought you loved me, I thought you cared." Oh yes, with hand motions and seated dancing we belted out Justin Bieber's 'Baby' while the entire bus watched. Hysterical laughing followed. I needed the distraction and the passengers just whispered and at the most rolled their eyes. Never before had I wished that I was a drinker so as to just wash my insecurities and anxiety down to the warmth of my alcohol filled belly. Then my insane old white lady rendition of a teeny bopper American song wouldn't have been so strange. Blame it on the booze, you know?

I also distracted myself by taking videos. I've become a notoriously bad videographer. Even Nati took over on the camera for me. I took a shot of these two boys working on the bus. So friendly and comfortable with each other. Always rough housing. Ethiopians are very comfortable with physical affection. Everyone leans on each one another, walks hand in hand or has arms around each other regardless of gender. The usual greeting is a hand shake with a kiss on each cheek. If they are particularly happy to see you you may be kissing each others cheeks for awhile.

The other equally common greeting is the hand shake/shoulder bump repeated three times. Similar to how you might see guys of familial relation greet one another in America. An American greeting might look something like; while shaking hands embrace in a hug, pat back once and release. In Ethiopia; shake hand, lean to left side and touch right shoulders together three times and release. You rarely just say "hey" to someone and continue in conversation. There's a formal physical greeting.

Another kind man sat near us on the bus. He study psychology at University but like the U.S. there isn't much work in the field so he teaches English. He also buys me a gift. Kolo is a crunchy snack made of seasoned barley. It reminds me of Corn Nuts but smaller. Yummy.

We did eventually make it to Shashamane where we sat around and waited for the rest of the group to meet back up with us so we could start the final leg back to Addis. We exchanged details of what we've been up to the past couple of days. It was good that the others stayed put because Jim ended up sick and needed some time for the antibiotics to kick in. Celese, Jim and Nati met up with others from Addis and stayed at the most opulent hotel in the country which was situated on a lake! I tried to remember the fun adventure of the past few days as I scratched my flea bites in envy. Really I wouldn't have traded places with them but I sure would've liked to see the beautiful area of Awassa with it's lakes and countryside.

5 hours later we finally head out. Nothing goes quickly in Ethiopia. Wally, CEO of Morrell Agro Industries, offers to drive us back to Addis in his Land Rover. He's a really interesting guy to talk to and has a great sense of humor. You'd have to to split your life between Logan, Utah Washington D.C. and Ethiopia. It's late as we role into Addis. We find a hotel which is very lovely considering the short notice and I enjoy a very long much needed and appreciated HOT SHOWER. Blessings!

Ethiopia Day 5 part 3

2011-11-07T12:17:00.000-08:00

The corn is the variety/standard that we feed our animals

It was late afternoon when our jaunt to jail was concluded so I decided I'd much prefer to hop on a bus and head back to Robei rather than hang around Ginnir. We still had at least a 15 hour trip to get back to Addis and it seemed better to get a jump on it. Kate agreed and later added that her father had had the worst case of bed bugs after sleeping in Ginnir. We were both glad to be heading back to our little room with no electricity or hot water in Robei. I'll take fleas over bed bugs, thank you.

A great thing about public transportation is all of the amazing people you meet and things you see and experiences you have. Everyone is kind and open. Lots of people are intrigued and curious. The people of Ethiopia treat you as a guest in their country just like we'd treat a guest in our homes. Yes, Seid's mom and a woman on the bus asked us to adopt them and take them to America but the people have great hopes for their country and for their families.

Night fell as we made our way down the dirt road to Robei. The bus is always filled over capacity with passengers sitting and standing in the aisle. A very sweet Muslim man sat with us and we chatted about life in our separate countries, traded pictures of our families and he answered questions about his faith.

There is no electricity out here in the bush farmland. Just the darkest of darkness occasionally broken by the soft orange glow of fire within a mud hut. Our bus stops at nondescript spots along the road and I wonder how any passengers know where we are well enough to realize they've come to their destination. At one such stop our new friend shouts from the bus into the darkness and low and behold corn cobs are passed onto the bus. One for us and one for him. A gift he wants us to try. The corn is warm and blackened in places obviously having been cooked on the side of the road for passengers just as us to enjoy. As I bite into the fleshy spear the kernels are hard and tasteless though it smells like popcorn so the whole experience is comforting and homey. This man with comparatively very little thought enough to give me a gift. His kindness made a 4-5 hour journey on an over stuffed bus in a veil of black an easy trip and a welcomed treasure.

When we arrived in Robei we went straight to our hotel and back to our previous room. To our glee we had arrived so late at night that it was our side of towns turn to have electricity! (we still used our candle in the morning because nothing lasts forever.) We were ready for sleep. We listened to the rain beat down on our window all night. As I snuggled into my covers my prayers were of gratitude for this warm blanket, flea infested as it might be. And a humble pleading for comfort for those that I know are battling the rain and cold for the night just outside.

Ethiopia- Day 5 part 2

2011-11-03T12:12:00.001-07:00

The Jail

Boy playing outside jail

Road to jail

When we arrived in Ginnir we met Otama who is a well known man around the town. His wife generously stowed our bags for us while we set out for a quick lunch. Charcoal tibbs is the food of choice these days. It's goat meat cooked in a kind of bowl on a stand. There is a hole in the center of the stand where coals or wood is placed. It reminds me of dutch oven cooking. Animal carcases hang in small store fronts adjacent to the restaurant and we watch as the butcher cuts our ordered meat from the hanging flesh. Yum!

After lunch it's time to head out for our intended purpose of visiting Ginnir. Otama and Seid have arranged to accompany Kate and I to the local jail. Kate and her family have wanted to get into contact with the boy who, while during a disagreement over land rights, unexpectedly hit their brother/husband/father in the back of the head with a machete. The victim, Wes, did survive and is alive and well in Idaho. The attacker, Siraj, was just 17 years old at the time of the attack and is serving a 14 year sentence.

I was just along for moral support and note taking which did prove to come in handy after all. Plus, who doesn't want to go to jail in Ethiopia? As a visitor it was quite interesting. Coming from the U.S. and having never seen an episode of the show "Locke Up Abroad" I didn't have any idea what to expect. I envisioned a very dirty, dark and cold building. And for some reason all of the walls were blue. The entire scene I created was not unlike a public swimming pools locker room.

It wasn't anything like that. The exterior of the jail is surrounded by a fence made of corrugated metal and lined with barbed wire. Two wooden gate doors are centered in the length of the fence. As you enter the compound it resembles walking on to a school campus. There are one story rectangular buildings made of stucco to my left. The building closest to me is a Christian Orthodox church with a vegetable garden out front. Next is the inmate housing and beyond that there is a Muslim mosque. We're directed to leave all camera and cell phones with the guard and are lead to a primitive pavilion 15 feet by 25 feet long which is forward and to my left. There are two long benches that run the length of the outdoor building. One side for visitors and one side for inmates.

There is no separation between visitors and inmates. I sit next to a family, a wife and her three young children, who are visiting their father. The children happily climb on their fathers lap. The kids are curious about me and want to play. Their parents encourage them to talk to me. I gladly play along with them. It's hard to think of these sweet people who are separated for a time. I imagine what this father may have done to land himself behind bars. I decide that he must have been doing something that storybooks would deem heroic but that local law declares crime. Stealing so his children can eat or so his wife can have much needed medicine. Scenes from Les Miserable stream through my mind.

Yes, it's better to imagine the grave misunderstandings that lead to these people becoming prisoners. Forced away from the families that depend on their support and the children who long for their love. Especially since every inmate at this prison is gathered around this small make shift visitors area anxious to hear why these white ladies have come. Yes, my fantasy helps keep the anxiety for our safety at bay.

Kate has a good conversation with Siraj with the help of two translators. Their conversation comforts both of them as Siraj expresses great remorse for his rash action and Kate is able to convey the families forgiveness and love. The one thing that continues to stand out to me about their entire story is the fact that both sides and all involved continue to refer to what happened as an 'accident.' When it would be so easy to blame and hold ill will, so satisfying to harbor anger and disdain. Instead all parties choose to recognize this as an unintentional accident with an unfortunate outcome.

Ethiopia-Day 5 part 1

2011-11-03T11:48:00.000-07:00

Usual scenes in town
Bus station

ceiling of the bus always decorated
They gave us a candle when we checked in

I woke to darkness and flea bites. No electricity you know? It rained and rained all night and I hoped that the road to Ginnir was flat with no mountain passes. Kate and I packed up our things and headed to the bus station. We secured our bus tickets and waited a hour and forty minutes for the rest of the bus to fill so we could depart. It was hard to get on and off the bus while we waited the long hours. It was continuing to rain and the bus station was now ankle deep mud. I would venture off the bus just in time for a well meaning gentleman to usher me back in the bus each time the sprinkles started falling.

I watched as a very cute boy about 9 years old slipped and muddied his pants. I laughed of course which was acceptable because he was laughing too. He got up quickly and was perfectly fine. He hobbled back to the store front he had originally emerged from. My giggle was short lived as the mother in me thought of the effort it would take to get those muddy pants clean here. So I prayed that those weren't his only pair of pants and that the mud would miraculous come out easily.

As we drove out of the station a piece of the bus fell off and a helpful bystander retrieved it for us. The driver laid the piece on the floor of the bus. I guess we'll just hope that wasn't a necessary piece? The bus pulled over to get gas and never turned the engine off. I envisioned our bus erupting in a ginormous fire ball worthy of any Hollywood action film but thankfully no such luck. Our gas acquisition went off with out a hitch.

Seid bought Kate and I each a box of biscuits (cookies) for breakfast since we didn't take time to stop and eat. The biscuits were a welcome treat as the drive to Ginnir takes 4 hours.

We drove through gorgeous green countryside. Mud houses with thatched roofs lined the road the entire way. People, mostly children, herd their animals on the road. We often swerve or stop for animals that have gone astray from the pack. Child size shepherds would hurry to get their animals out of the way of oncoming vehicles. The driver did unfortunately nick a goat that was just a little too close to the bus. An audible squel was heard by most passengers. There was a bit of conversation about this incident but I gathered they decided there was nothing to be done and I assume the goat became that nights dinner.

The other passengers on the bus are very accommodating and curious about what brings firingi so far out into the bush on a public bus. We had lovely conversations and endured a lot of stares.

Ethiopia- Day 4

2011-11-02T10:42:00.000-07:00

Visiting Seid's family

Dome houses at the orphanage

The Bajaj

We spent more time in Nigelly. We rode in a motorcycle turned car called a Bajaj to get there. Very fun! We were able to visit with some beautiful families. Everyone was very sweet and curious. We were able to visit inside a few homes and spend time hearing peoples stories. We visited the site of Village of Hope which once housed an orphanage and health clinic. We toured the facilities and heard stories about the children who had lived there and from the families of those children.

We saw two wells in the area that had been donated by the LDS church. It was amazing to see the blessing it is to have clean drinking water. One well serves 6 different faucets in the nearby area.

Celese needed to stay in Shashamane for a business meeting so Kate and I left the rest of the group there as we headed to Robei. Robei is a 4-5 hour drive over the Bali National forest. It was raining and quite foggy so no animals were seen but the weather cast a magical scene over the amazing terrain.

We arrived in Robei after dark. Seid, another local friend of Kate's met us and showed us to the hotel he'd set up for us. It was a what you can expect from a firinji hotel. Clean with a shower and modern toilet. This one had the add adventure of no hope of hot water and no electricity. We were given a candle upon arrival. It was awesome. The beds had fleas of course but that's part of the experience.

Seid owns a Bajaj and became our personal taxi. He took us to his home to meet his family. We showed up unannounced and they were so sweet and welcoming. They're home is small and very lovingly decorated. Blankets were hung on the walls for warmth and decoration. The women and children of the family had cut decorations from paper to make garland that hung throughout the cozy room.

The sweet family was full of hugs and smiles. We sat on the comfy floor, chatted and took photos. Seid's mom insisted on making us a porridge which was a doughy consistency that we ate with our fingers. It was a delight to spend time with them.

Ethiopia- Day 3

2011-10-30T11:04:00.000-07:00

Children would gather and walk with us
These boys were selling items at the bus station
Our first squat hole-not an exaggeration
3 story LDS building being built
What town looks like-

Day 3 we headed to Shashamane which proved to be no easy task. We thought we'd contract a mini bus (van) to drive the five of us the ? miles. The bus station is a volatile place. You don't just find a bus schedule and buy a ticket. You wait as people fight over who gets to drive you. They grab your bags and lead you off while others try to get in their ways and convince you to get in a different bus. They also take turns tripling the price because you're white.Poor Nati finally banished us to a cafe so he could make arrangements without us white people causing such a scene. As we left the cafe to board our mini bus an older, respectable looking couple passing by warned Nati not to go with our chosen mini bus.

"They mess around with black magic and other nasty things. They'll probably take you off somewhere, rob you, leave you in the middle of nowhere. Or worse." A quick, well timed exchange between strangers drastically changed the outcome of our day. God is good!

We opted for a public bus. Safety in numbers you know? All transportation remains so strange in Ethiopia. The public buses fight over passengers as well. Still no schedules and the bus doesn't leave until all the seats are filled. Beggars and sellers enter the bus while passengers wait to depart. One day I waited almost 2 hours for all of the seats on the bus to sell.

Children in Shashamane were very welcoming. Not trying to sell anything or get anything from us. Children walking home from school would gather around us and walk along side us. They were curious about white people and wanted to show us their English skills. Nati asked if I liked the attention. Everyone staring. I felt like I was somewhere between a parade participant and a death row inmate headed for the chair. I wasn't sure why people were staring.

Everyone proved to be kind and curious. Adults would wave from far off distances and children would giggle and follow close by. We spent the evening talking with Sonnet. He is the father of a teenage son who was adopted into a young American family along with 4 of his friends. Sonnet's story is sweet, heartfelt and eye opening. A parents love in Ethiopia knows very different bounds then many others.

Firinji meets Habaesha

2011-10-27T14:22:00.000-07:00

These are some of the first children we met and spent time with. We had traveled to Shashamane, a Rastafarian mecca of sorts. Lots of Bob Marley and dreadlocks. We met these little ones in the neighboring town of Nigelly. They were just hanging around playing, saw some Firinji (foreigners) and wandered over in curiosity. They were very sweet and fun to play with. High fives and piggy back rides go a long way to bridge a language gap.

*Habaesha means local (for most areas)

Ethiopia- Day 1-2

2011-10-27T13:34:00.000-07:00

This is our guide Nati. Natneal if you want to annoy him. Nati met us at the Addis Ababa airport and rarely left our sides. He is an amazing 22 year old guy, excellent guide and outstanding person. It is a pleasure to know him.

Our first day was spent checking in to the guest house where we'd be staying, walking the nearby neighborhood and meeting with Levi of Bring Love In. Levi and I have been corresponding for awhile. He, his wife and their 4 children make their lives as ex-pats in Ethiopia. They've recently started an organization to help widows and orphans in Ethiopia. They are involved in a great work. I am grateful for his help and was so glad to have been able to bring some much desired items for his families from the states.

Day 2 was spent meeting people at Morrell Agro Industries. It's an amazing agricultural company doing a lot of good in Southern Ethiopia.

Across from MAI offices is the Holy Trinity Christian Orthodox church. It's beautiful. Chanting and prayers can be heard being broadcast fom the church at all hours of the day and NIGHT. 3 am people.

This sweet little guy was begging for money outside the church. I handed out bracelettes to him and his friends. He said I could take his picture if I paid him 1 burr. 1 burr will buy a loaf of bread. 1 burr is equivalent to about 5 cents U.S. dollars. It's very likely that someone stole my cell phone and camera charger out of my back pack while I took this photo. Well, what are you gonna do? I hope they got top dollar for it. As I turned to catch up with the others an old man tried to hit me with his cane! Don't know why he was so mad at me.

Ethiopia- Arrival

2011-10-26T06:16:00.000-07:00

(pictures taken from airplanes do not do it justice)

I never managed to sleep on any of the flights. I would eventually be awake for close to 50 hours or more before I finally drifted off. It was to my advantage though because now I had no jet lag to get in the way of my travels. I did question my sanity as the sun started to illuminate the African landscape below my aircraft. The light revealed a completely white surface resembling more of what I gather Antarctica would look like rather than Africa. The hills and valleys and peaks were covered in smooth yet rigid sheets of white. I half expected to see sled dogs and mountaineers trails. It must have been fog. A hug from the clouds. It looked like a fine white table cloth had been draped over the earth for safe keeping threw the night.

As the sun grew ever warmer in the sky a beautiful array of colors was shown. Like a patch work quilt of varying shades of greens and browns, I'd never seen the earth look quite like this. It wasn't what I expected Ethiopia to look like at all. Even from miles above the colors promised lush foliage and ingenuity. Potential.

On my way

2011-10-25T11:45:00.000-07:00

My flight left on Sunday evening so the family and I went down early to visit Brent's sister Jennifer. Of course Jennifer lives 15 minutes from Disneyland so it was necessary to spend our time in the happiest place on earth. Sunday was spent down the street at the beach roasting hot dogs for lunch.

I am a raging ball of anxiety. I'm not a good flier. I have to spend 17 hours on planes just to get to Africa. Many of those hours will be spent flying over large bodies of water. And then I'll spend 2 weeks away from my family. I beg Brent to drop me off at the curb by the terminal, a quick goodbye like tearing off a bandaid but the kids insist on coming in with me. When we finally say goodbye at the security gate it's tearful for each of us.

I've come to realize that while I may appear to some to be easy going and carefree, I am constantly engaged in an internal game of 'Would You Rather.' or in my case 'Is It Worth It?' If Brent and I head out of town and leave the kids in the capable hands of friends, is it worth the risk that we may die in a fiery car crash leaving them orphans? I can easily rationalize this choice with knowing that Brent and I need time alone together to keep our relationship strong and ourselves sane. It's really not a choice, it's a must. So this whim of mine to head to Africa is really making it hard for me to win the game. I have no widely recognized reasons to fall back on such as, I have to go for work or I'm traveling with my husband or family. It's just me. It's just my adventure. My constant trading of emotional currency like an internal stock exchange is wearying on me.

Everything this week has felt like a final goodbye. I envision my plane crashing over the Atlantic ocean. My bus careening over the side of a mountain while Bob Marley plays on the radio. At the very least I'll miss my sweet family and hope they won't be miserable while I'm away. Or even worse, that they'll prefer it.

My flight leaves at 9pm. The cabin is sprinkled with passengers but I have an entire row to myself. The cabin is dark and I'm alone so I sob to myself. I remind myself how selfish I am. Flitting off to Africa as if it's the same as running to the grocery store. Only now do I let myself submerge into the doubt and ridiculousness of the this decision.

So I indulge in my tears in the darkened, mostly empty cabin. I allow myself to feel insane amounts of unjustified guilt. I pray nothing will go wrong. I have faith that all will be well. I hope that my family knows that I love them more than anything. I love them more than Africa.

Oops!

2011-07-13T15:41:00.000-07:00

As my littles and I ventured into WalMart this morning their little hearts were set on riding in what I refer to as a 'double decker' shopping cart. It's a cart with a special attachment which allows for two small seats or one large seat as is evident by the times I've distracted my little's tantrums by having them push me around the store. It's gigantic! It's difficult to push when loaded down with kids and wares and is very hard to maneuver. It's worth the trouble to keep the monkeys tame for a trip around the world that is WalMart.

I was talking to Brent the Super Bee on my cell and sent the littles off to style heaven (kids clothes area) as I discussed the three types of gloves we need to pick up for our upcoming Pioneer Trek. A voice from behind me said "excuse me" and since I'm not a famous person, I knew I was in someone's way and not being asked for an autograph. I moved to the side and went to continue with my conversation when under the woman's breath she evaluates," blocking an entire aisle and chatting on the phone."

I then realized that my double decker cart was indeed blocking 3/4th of the aisle and then I was standing in the remainder. Obnoxious I know. I looked toward the woman who's back was to me and before I can proclaim my apologies she continues to raging rambles with "maybe you could possibly block more of the aisle? There's some over here." What? She's never even made eye contact with me. Completely passive aggressive and I am anything but.

The woman was just rounding a corner and I can no longer see her but my quick tongue was heard non the less as I retorted "I can try". There's the oops. Still hidden by a tall rack of clothes I hear her reply "How rude." I tell The Bee that I better get off the phone before the old lady wants to throw down. Now that would be a People at Walmart post for sure.

My monstrous cart gets in the way of a couple of guys about two minutes later. They have no objectionable reaction and allow me to pass without rebuke. I instantly feel guilt for having snapped at the lady who was so impatient with me. I should have been patent with her. Been a good example. Shown Christ-like love.

I believe that my heartfelt "I'm sorry" in place of my knee jerk smart-tushy comment would not have penetrated the hardened exterior of this woman's day. She would've replied "Well don't be sorry. Get off your phone and pay attention." The I'm sorry would've benefited only me and made proud my Heavenly Father.

I allowed a stranger to bring me down to a place I shouldn't have been. It was a quick trip and I was back where I should be in no time flat. Like a bungee jump I leaped out for the fulfilling thrill of plunging into a sarcastic comment and then was instantly jerked back to a higher plain.

I waited a the front of the store after checking out for a brief moment hoping to see the woman and apologize. I even considered seeking her out but then thought better of it. What matter's most is that I quickly recognized how I had made a less than Christ-like choice (though I know He has a sense of humor. How else do explain the bag pipes?) and quickly gathered myself back together not allowing another to bring me down to a place of criticism. Now I know better. Lesson learned. And that always feels good.

Always love, Nelly- Gotta love WalMart.

2011-06-24T14:05:00.000-07:00

I love my daughter Pippy! Have you ever been inspired to be better by the example of your children? My Pippy is so super. Not perfect, but super. She recently met with our Bishop at church for an interview about her upcoming baptism. We had spent the entire day in town and didn't have her dress with us. After her meeting with the Bishop she was in tears about having not worn the proper attire to her interview. SO disappointed in herself. I wish I was oh so committed to doing what is right in all things.

I often struggle when I watch my children from day to day. I recognize a lot of my own best qualities in Pippy and many of my least desirable qualities in KK. I'm always trying to transfer the good qualities to the other kid and to myself. I'm very careful never to compare one child to the other or say ridiculous things like "can't you be more like your sister?" Those words never pass my lips but they do cross my mind. I wish kiddos were like a recipe with an ingredient list. I could just transfer a pinch of charity from one to the other or a scoop of independence tossed into the mix.

I'm grateful that my littles provide me not only with opportunities to teach them but with experiences that teach me. They are great examples and my favorite works in progress.

Always Love- Nelly

Admiration

2011-05-24T08:51:00.000-07:00

The Feeling Great in Eight challenge has a calendar of an extra little something you do each day. Each day is a different little something. Some of my favorites have been: do something nice for yourself today (I painted my nails), write or call someone you haven't been in contact with in a while, (I wrote my best friend from high school who I'd been meaning to talk with.) Today's extra to-do item is to "think of someone I admire and why. Write it down and work on adding the admirable quality into your life."

My first thought and the obvious choice is my friend Kathryn. Kathryn is super tidy and organized. She never squanders time, though I'm sure she's wrinkling her nose and thinking "if she only knew." But it's true. She can achieve so much in a day! Her tidiness and organization is not limited to her home. I feel like her mind is clear and compartmentalized. She's thoughtful and smart and spiritually minded. She is always put together and dressed as though she put thought into it. I am wondering how she's managing that long hair? Maybe there are more bad hair days for her recently. Kathryn isn't perfect or stuffy or putting on a front. She does these things because they make her feel good. She wants to be the best version of herself and that takes a little effort sometimes and she's not afraid to work at it.

Kathryn is hilarious! She is a lot of fun to be around and she is a great writer. At least we have those things in common. It's a start. I wanna be like her when I grow up. So I better get crackin'.

Always love, Nelly -I love Kathryn, miss her terribly and think Utah is the luckiest state ever.

Feeling full of glee in 3

2011-05-16T12:56:00.000-07:00

My fog has lifted a little recently. Admitting you have a problem is the first step, right? Well, after stating my issue out loud and writing it for all to see, I can say that I can feel how I've risen to a bit clearer section of sky. I can attribute this change to a new healthy habit program that my friends and I are involved in called Feeling Great in Eight. We give ourselves a predetermined amount of points for doing good-for-you things like drinking enough water, eating all of our fruits and veggies, reading our scriptures etc.. It has really been good. I like the challenge and the reminder to do good things for myself. Things that should be basic everyday habits and not tasks that I view as indulgent and hence place them at the end of my mind to-do list. I really am on my way to feeling great!

Always Love, Nelly-We put ourselves into teams and our team is full of rock stars. Hooray for healthy competition!

feeling foggy

2011-04-25T13:48:00.000-07:00

I wish my fog was this romantic

I haven't posted in a very long time. You wanna know why? Well, I was asked to be PTO President starting in mid August. That was a new and challenging task. In the midst of our Fall Carnival which is my first and largest fundraising event I was called as Young Women's President for our ward. Literally, I stopped at the church for my meeting with the Bishop while picking up supplies in town and then getting back to the set up of the carnival. So the last 6 months have been very busy.

Mostly my mind is over filled. The problem is that when my mind is overfilled it doesn't spill over into a flow of action. It smothers out any and all focus like a wet blanket on a campfire. I'm easily overwhelmed. I don't like being in charge of everything. I'm a worker bee not a leader bee. Things aren't getting done. And if they are they aren't being done well. I'm a foggy mess. I'm trying to wade threw the clouds and do what I can but somethings have got to go and I need to get back to being productive. Any ideas on how I might do that? I have a few.

I plan to rise above.

Look at this. Seriously! Awesome.

2011-01-27T12:21:00.000-08:00

Holy Hannah! Oh My Goodness! Oh My Goodness! Oh My GOODNESS!!!!

Look at this!

She mentioned me...by name...with a link to my blog. I'm photographed 4 times!

SQUEAL!!!! (Seriously, like a thirteen year old girl who just met Justin Bieber.)

Sigh...deep breath...

Courtney and I chatted a bit about validation. Specifically feeling validated in ones writing. Well, my writing because I'm confident that Courtney is quite validated in her writing. (A large fan base will do that to a girl) So I consider this a gift from Courtney. One more step toward validation. Thanks blogger buddy! (one more squeal for good measure. EEEEEEEEK)

Always Love, Nelly- I seriously can not take a decent photo. I should take modeling lessons from Courtney. She is always adorable and doesn't even try. I'm off to do some sit ups.

2011-01-25T16:34:00.000-08:00

Remember my picture from the previous post? And how I was less than pleased? This one really shows how I must have looked during the entire gathering.

Scary much?

The awesome Courtney Kendrick of CJanerun.com announced an event that she was putting together in St George, Ut earlier this month. It would be a gathering. A gathering of fans and fellow writers. There would be Courtney, cupcakes and candid conversation. I was excited for the opportunity to meet Courtney. You get the feeling from her blog that she is super cool, easy going and could be your best friend if only you lived on her street. (and I do love her street) That's the kind of person I'd like to hang out with. I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

I decided to throw responsibility to the wind and hop in the car for a quick 6 hour drive to St George. I was very blessed to have my friend Shar follow my bad example...I mean free spirited nature and decide to come along with me. Hey, we're not trying to win any awards here. We've just learned to take opportunities for fun when they're offered. It's totally necessary.

Not only was the gathering fun but completely interesting and validating. Courtney and her husband Christopher (aka Chup) read some of their writings first. They were sweet and funny and adoring of one another as always. Courtney had invited some of the writers in attendance to read as well. This is where my validation comes in. I was one of them! I chose to read my post entitled "A real friend stabs you in the front." While I realize that I send my writings out into the universe with a click of the keyboard, letting anyone and everyone view them, it was very different to sit in front of a group of strangers and read aloud claiming myself to be a writer.

Maybe the stress had some significant effect on me as is evident in the above photo.

I introduced myself to the group and gave ample reasons why I wasn't a stalker for driving 6 hours to Utah to meet Courtney. I read my post. Others read as well. They were all beautiful and funny and inspiring. We recieved great advice on photography for our blogs from Haley. We were able to have some Q&A with Courtney and some Meet and Greet/photo time. it was a pleasure and Courtney is truly lovley. I hope you have the chance to meet her someday. Even with all of my unorthodox talk of dead dogs and traveling from afar to meet strangers she insisted that I let her know if I made it to one of her concerts she's organizing this summer in Provo. Maybe she just wanted extra security if she new I would be there?

Always Love, Nelly- If you think that picture is scary imagine how much worse it was for Courtney when I said "You know, I feel like I could find your house if I really wanted to just from reading your blog." I just meant that I think of her when I drive past her neighborhood when I visit Provo. I didn't mean to sound like a stalker but do any of them ever do?

Courtney

2011-01-22T10:10:00.000-08:00

Most people may recognize her as CJane from her most excellent blog but since we actually met this week...it's Courtney. Courtney and her CJane blogs have inspired a lot of my blogging and writing pursuits. She is a self proclaimed Mormon Mommy Blogger who has actually turned her skills into an income. Glorious! I gleaned a couple of things from her blog that I enjoyed so much that I incorporate them into my writing. Such as:

Nicknames: Courtney has nicknames/pseudonyms for most of her immediate family. I love writing about my family using my special names I've created for them. It helps me feel like I'm writing a story and not just recounting experiences in my journal.

The last word: Courtney usually writes a post script at the end of her posts. A final word or a synopsis of what she's written. I tend to do the same thing so I added the same to my blog.

I really felt like I was taking pieces of different blogs I like and using elements that spoke to me as my own. Now I just sound like a copy cat. Oh well, what can say? MEOOWW!

I was able to meet Courtney and some other beautiful writers this week at a wonderful gathering she hosted. More on that later....

Always love, Nelly, My first instinct was to point out all of my imperfections that were brought to light in this photo of Courtney and I. But I'm learning from CJane and her guest bloggers and I will refrain and be kind to myself. (but I do think this photo shows what a crazed fan I am. Super Excited!) Couldn't help myself.

A real friend stabs you in the front

2011-01-14T09:06:00.000-08:00

No. A real friend takes your dead dog for a ride in their car. That’s been my experience. Which made me think about what makes a true friend. The lines of friendship have been blurred in recent years with the popularity of social networking sites such as Facebook and Twitter. The word ‘friend’ alone can be defined in various new ways. A person you care about and enjoy being with or simply someone you allow to view your personal profile information and daily posted ramblings. I’ll admit to using the word ‘friend’ to refer to acquaintances or even a friend of a friend. It may be quicker but is it accurate?

Just as all of you do when preparing for vacation, we asked our ‘friends’ to keep watch over our animals. They generously agreed. This is no small task. It required driving to our home every day, watering and feeding chickens and collecting their eggs. Feeding and playing with a stir crazy Chihuahua and an elderly Akita in the heat of a desert summer. That is sign number one that I should refer to them as ‘friends.’ They are willing to sacrifice their time to help us out. Sign number two was made of flashing neon. After only one day away from home we received a call from said friends letting us know that they, and unfortunately their children, had found our elderly Akita dead in our yard. While trying to console their own children from this devastating event they also took steps to be positive our dog had in fact expired and would not be suffering. This, in the end, meant that they examined a dead dog for us. That would be enough to place them solidly in the friend category.

Just to remove all doubt, sign number three was lit up like the Las Vegas strip on the fourth of July. Our friends offered to take care of our dogs remains in the way that made us most comfortable which meant taking our dog to the animal shelter for cremation. Seeing as this all occurred on a Sunday they had to do so the following day as the animal shelter was closed. Still, they assured us that they were glad to be able to serve us in this way. They returned as promised and began the task of loading a dead dog into a box and then into the back of their SUV. They were not quite prepared for the state that this body would be in after a day in the desert heat. It proved to be a larger task then planned but they performed it masterfully. After securing the temperary casket in the back of their car they thought the hard part was behind them. The smell filling the car proved otherwise. They immediately and instinctually rolled down the windows. The gust of wind was a welcome reprieve from the horrible scent but the breeze betrayed them as it rolled through the car blowing the box top open! The stench reaches unbearable proportions. The driver holds a sweatshirt over his face and the passenger keeps her head out of the window as they race to their destination. They used so many cans of air freshener that they are sure to receive hate mail from Al Gore. At this point I would not be surprised if they asked to have their names removed from our ‘friend’ list. And then came sign number four. They laughed the whole way home and thanked us for giving them an interesting story to tell on occasion.

So, what makes a real ‘friend’? I still consider my old classmates and my in-laws in-laws friends. We have shared experiences and common interests. I also refer to people I Blurk or Blog Stalk as friends. (Though that’s mostly because people think I’m a lunatic when I say things like “I read about a similar experience on a blog I follow.” Some people just don’t get it, including my husband) Even if our only connection is only that we knew each other once way back when or have never met but have been profoundly inspired by one another’s experiences, we’re written on each other’s histories. Though, from now on, I won’t be using the word ‘friend’ so cavalierly.

My FRIEND Lisa and I (gettin' our silly on)

Failure?

2011-01-04T13:14:00.000-08:00

Over a month without a post? This is supposed to be my source of outlet. Outlet? Well let me tell ya, I've just been released. I look forward to the Fall with such nostalgia. I love all of the new that happens in the Fall and helps usher in the joy of winter and Christmas. This season I've allowed myself to be smothered. I'm not sure why or by what really. Just everything! I didn't send out Christmas cards or deliver my Christmas gifts to friends. I didn't check off ALL of the lines on my To Do list. But here's what I did do: I made choices.

I chose to forgo things I'd liked to have done for things it seemed I had to do. I had a very hard time feeling the Christmas spirit. I was no baahumbug mind you, I was just not feelin' it. During all of the hustle, bustle and business I decided to remember. I decided to see the necessity in something I wanted to do. It wasn't on the list of things that had to be done but it was the most worthwhile things that could be done.

While I was returning some table clothes to a cupboard at church I found a stack of Christmas cards that were to be delivered along with gifts to a retirement home. The gifts had already been given out but the cards had been left behind. These cards were time sensitive. I couldn't handed out Christmas cards after Christmas! I took the cards with me and put it on the list of things I'd like to do.

Amidst a busy, rainy, cold day filled with errands to be run I found the stack of cards. I was waiting in the car and going over my list when I saw the stack sitting next to me. I had a van full of kids and a list a mile long and all I wanted to do was deliver these cards. So I did. I turned the car on and drove straight to the facility. My kids and brother and I greeted the each resident, wished them a Merry Christmas and left a card with them. Simple. No one would know if I had just decided to skip it. Save the cards for next year. But I wanted to. I was blessed and the recipients were as well. As we left my Pippy looked up and said "can we make more cards and come back tomorrow? I think there were people sleeping and we didn't get to visit them." (She's a girl after my own heart. And I freely give it to her)

It was my most important thing I did that day because I chose it to be important. It was no longer a busy day or a stressful day. It was a wonderful day after that.

Always Love, Nelly- I'm always grateful for a mood changer.

Warm Cookies

2010-11-21T21:22:00.000-08:00

The hills are alive with glory of winter. Mother Nature is decking her halls for the winter season. A gorgeous Fall storm has swept it's way into the desert. The local news tells of snow in the mountains of California and Utah and continuing eastward. Here in the desert our Fall storm system manifests itself as an array of clouds decorating the sky as far as the eye can see. A few dark grey with moisture but mostly varying forms of white blocking out the bright sun. Yes, a storm in our desert comes in the form of a light filter accompanied by a chill in the air and a sweet wind that rattles the leaves free from the trees. The nearby mountains are dusted with snow like Mother Nature's finishing powdered sugar atop a dessert she's prepared for a holiday gathering. I'm glad I'm invited to the party. It's the only memo nature can conjure up to let it's desert dwellers know Fall is here and change is coming. Mother Nature isn't relying on weather dot com.

I love Fall and Winter. I love Spring and Summer too but this time of year lends itself to snuggling in bed, sitting by lovely warm fires and delicious clothes. Socks and fuzzy PJs, sweaters and knee high boots. Jeans and scarves and beanies. And of coarse the cookies! Warm scrumptious chocolate chip cookies. Nothing warms the soul like a Sunday filled with spiritual enlightenment combined with all of the above. Happy day!

Changing time

2010-11-07T13:08:00.000-08:00

I love how little things can be marvelous! Like this morning. I've noticed that my early rising littles have slept in the last few mornings. I correlate this phenomenon with Daylight Saving Time. Every season my children's sleep patterns start to change just before the time does. The whole idea is weird and marvelous.

Why would a child who usually wakes at 6am start to wake at 7am? There haven't been any causes for the change. I'll tell you why. Because God loves me! Come Sunday when all of us (except Arizona who is too good to be bothered) move our clocks back an hour it won't seem like much of a change for me because my littles will still be waking up at 6am. Without this slow movement to waking up at 7am I would be burdened with littles tapping on my forehead at 5am!

Just like all things I don't understand, I'm giving it to God. He's behind it all anyways. Even if there is a logical explanation, he's behind the logic.

Always Love, Nelly- Marvelous I say. Marvelous!

Busy

2010-11-04T12:34:00.000-07:00

I've been really busy. I've been too busy. I'm getting busier.

I've slacked off in areas that really shouldn't ever be put off. I decided to make it right. I committed to putting things back on my To Do list that need attention. I had a great visit with someone I had been neglecting. I felt great about making time and fitting it all in. It's the beginning of the month!

(Inserting sound of screeching tires)

I completely forgot that it's Thursday. Thursday I help in JoJo's kindergarten classroom.

Not only did I not 'fit it all in' I didn't give notice to the teacher that I wouldn't be there. Totally left her hanging. What ever will I do with myself? Try try again!

Always Love, Nelly- Remember how I started this blog 'cause I didn't have any idea what I would with myself when the littles started school? I've come so far, wouldn't ya say?

Freedom in action

2010-11-02T21:29:00.000-07:00

I didn't walk miles and wait hours for the opportunity to have my voice heard. I haven't waited my entire life to be a part of a democratic government only to have the election be a rigged sham only for show. I didn't go to great lengths to cast my ballot just to find that my opinion doesn't really count. I didn't research each initiative and elected officials available seat as well as I should have. I didn't vote for anyone just because of their political party.

I voted.

I explained Democracy to my kids today and demonstrated it to myself as well. I felt the joy it can be to have a say in what happens around you and to you. I felt the immeasurable significance of what this seemingly simple act must have meant to my fore sisters of the Women's Suffrage. I realized my great grandmother was a wife and mother of several children before she and all other women were seen as worthy of opinion. I invoked one of the great blessings bestowed upon each of us as God's children. I made a choice.

Always Love, Nelly- What a terrific way to start my favorite month. A month dedicated to gratitude. I'm grateful for choice.

2010-10-24T17:00:00.000-07:00

This is Mama Bates (that's her camp name). She and I have a good time together. She will be silly with me. We make really cute cupcakes, chat away about anything and most of all we act like responsible teenagers. See, we serve in our wards Young Women's presidency which means we are in charge of our church's organization for the girls ages 12-18. We plan weekly activities that help strengthen the girl's talents and faith in God while having fun too. We organize Sunday lessons to be taught to the girls, we attend and plan youth dance for youth ages 14-18. We plan and attend Girl's Camp which is a week long camp focusing on outdoor skills and an appreciation for less distractions so we can concentrate on our Savior. We organize and attend Youth Conference which is a 2 day event for youth ages 14-18 that provides an opportunity for all the LDS youth from our local area to have fun and learn together. We do a lot of stuff. This is the short list.

Today I found out that Mama Bates has been asked to serve in another organization. This means she'll still be around but we won't be working as closely any more. This also means that I may be being asked to work in another organization as well. (Sometimes when they change things up it's necessary to move everyone around.)

I'm sad to have this change come. I cried when I heard the news even though I was in a room filled with a thousand people. I'm not a big fan of change. I like where I'm at and who I work with. I'm excited and nervous about what might be coming in the near future.

This experience of losing Mama Bates has made me realize just how much I love working with the girls in our ward. I like having an excuse to be a responsible teenager. I like playing goofy games and talking about boys and school. It's like getting a 'do over' of my teenage years (which I can totally use.) I've been crazy busy lately and can totally use some simpler days but I don't want to sacrifice anything I'm involved with. I believe God knows what I need better than I do so I'll just trust him to make the decisions.
So, here's to change! Maybe you're not so bad after all.
But I've got my eye on you.

Always Love, Nelly- My camp name is Mama Cannon and I love it a lot more than my camp name from when I was a youth which was Willy Bean.

Rainy Days

2010-10-20T09:23:00.000-07:00

Californians are enjoying some cloudy, rainy weather this week. That's right. We enjoy it. We don't find ourselves covered in snow 9 months out of the year. We spend lovely December days at the park and the beach. When it rains it's a treat. I live in the Mojave desert so it exceeds treat when the drops descend. I drag out my "cold" weather clothes and switch from flip flops to boots. The littles bundle up and head out to hunt for puddles. The rain is ever fleeting. Soon the sun will breakthrough the clouds and dry up the earth as well as our hopes for the feeling of changing seasons. I would never suggest that our friends in Minnesota should feel the least bit of sympathy for sunny Californians but I hope they find joy and see the beauty in the nature around them. The closest we get is a little glimpse of Seattle winter and soon you'll find us sporting over sized shades and remembering the sunscreen. Happy Fall Y'all!

Jane Austen-tatious

2010-10-09T09:03:00.000-07:00

KK and Pippy are constantly engaged in unladylike behavior. Straddling the adults in the house, laying spread eagle around the house whilst wearing dresses, making crude remarks etc.. I'm the last person people would expect to be concerned about such things. I'm pretty irreverent, loud and relaxed at times. Alright, ALL the time. Watching my girls casualness makes me cringe. I worry what lacking behavior now will translate into later. I like myself just fine but we all want our children to be better than we are, right?

I feed my children a healthy diet of propaganda like Little Women and Jane Austen. When they're old enough I'll introduce them to Shakespeare. My favorite is Much Ado About Nothing. Nothing quite teaches a lesson so exactly as to watch Hero's fiance and father call her out and disown her for being accused of wrinkling the sheets on weddings-eve. Always vindicated in the end. "I do live. And I am a maid," fair Hero declares! Extreme, I know but entertaining with a hint of present day truth. Let it be known that I will not disown my children nor fake their deaths to prove that they were unjustly accused of adultery. I will, however, send subliminal messages threw these movies that suggest, frolicking in meadows and reading aloud to one another is great fun and the honor of your good name is to be your most prized possession.

I envision sweet girls, cleanly dressed, legs locked tightly together at the knees being an example of mild mannered kindness. JoJo, a true gentleman never wanting for more than the pleasure to serve and enjoy witty banter. Quaint! The perfect word for what I see in the my motherly mind would be..quaint. Maybe not quite refined but quaint. Oh let us try to succeed in keeping the parts of ourselves that we like the least hidden away so as not to see them put into action in another generation. Like my insane fear of snakes or all of the other things that bring me anxiety. Bridges, other people driving me in the car, driving the 395 after dark. We can reveal these flaws after our children become our peers. After most of the work is done. Yes, let's try!

What do you try to keep hidden?

Always Love, Nelly- For the record, my fears are substantiated. Snakes, cars, bridges and the 395 are highly dangerous.

Busy

2010-10-04T16:53:00.000-07:00

I was so worried that I'd have too much time on my hands with the littles in school. I was really wrong. I'm very busy and some how my house is still a disaster. I'm busy doing good things but I need to schedule myself or something because even with all this time on my hands I'm not getting everything accomplished. I'm working on it though. Any suggestions?

Always Love, Nelly- I'm so confused I don't know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt...

Runaway

2010-10-03T09:12:00.000-07:00

(At the Iliad bookstore)

I ran away this weekend. All by myself. I drove a car (not a minivan) to L.A.. I visited a museum that my family would tolerate but I loved. I teared up in while touring the photography exhibit and I didn't have to defend myself to anyone or judge them for not being affected as I was. I got sick. I deviated from my plan. I got lost. I drove around a lot. I chose to look at it as a driving tour of L.A. because I accidentally saw a lot of interesting places. I ate Mediterranean food. Yum! I slept in a hotel room all alone. I woke up every hour during the night.

I visited The Grove a.k.a Disneyland for adults. Seriously, music in the streets and a trolley to boot. I wandered around shops. I gasped at price tags. I bought cute clothes (across the street.) I perused a book store that had a one eyed cat sleeping on the counter. Reminded me of our local airport.

I took my time. It was very quiet. I don't think it suits me. I had fun. I did a lot of things I've never done before and learned a lot about myself. I'm glad I was a runaway but only for a day.

Always love, Nelly-There's no place like home...

Simple blessings

2010-09-27T08:47:00.000-07:00

I've had a terrific weekend. I had a rough week while the Bee was out of town on bussiness and it left me in a terrible mood even after he returned home. Listening to wonderful words of spiritual enlightenment at Women's Conference and at church on Sunday chased that funk away quickly. I'm so grateful for how quickly the spirit can change a persons outlook.

It didn't hurt that Pippy passed me a picture she drew during Sacrament meeting that showed her standing with Jesus and Heavenly Father. Melts my heart. Especially since she had had an awful morning and decided to "start my day over Mom." So wise! Plus JoJo covered me in kisses and declared "I wanna marry you mom." Of course, I explained that I was taken and he asked "will you be alive when I get married to someone else?" Deep question! I decided on an optimistic answer "yep" and God willing I will be. Many Many years from now. I'm not ready share that kid quite yet.

Always Love, Nelly- Let's hope I can keep this refreshed feeling all week!

Sweet!

2010-09-18T03:23:00.000-07:00

Today a mechanic referred to me as "Sweetie." The feminist in my mind was instantly defensive. (in my best ghetto girl accent)"BOYYY, who you think you is calling me sweetie?" And just as quickly the vain girl with the impending birthday took over. "Sweetie. Atleast it wasn't maam." I smiled, thanked the man and left with no word uttered. It's small but I'll take it.

Always Love, Nelly-And that's how I roll sweetie.

Oh how time flys

2010-09-12T16:22:00.000-07:00

Everyone said that I would find things to do with my time once the kids were in school. I was sceptical but I was proven wrong. I need more time! How is that possible? After dropping the littles off at school I have 6 entire hours to myself. I envisioned a sparkling clean house that barely needed tending to because I'd have it all taken care of whilst the littles were away. That has yet to happen.

Here's what my days generally look like: I do the usual get up and go routine with the kids as well as a neighbors daughter whom I drop off at school. I drive my brother the 25 minute distance to community college. I shop for groceries and run other miscellaneous errands that need doing for home, church, and the littles school. I hit the gym for an hour and a half. At home I check various emails and blogs etc.. I do any preparations for activities I'm in charge of that week including and not limited to Youth Group at church (Mutual night). I'm also PTO President for our elementary school which requires some thought, research and organization. I might have time to fold some laundry or do a dish or two and then it's time to pick up the littles from school.

I feel foolish in thinking that I'd have hours during my days that would be filled with stagnant loneliness with out my sweet littles at home to keep me busy. I've got a lot to do all on my own. Just being the supporting role in this family is a full time job. It's a job I enjoy and hope to find a good time management method for in the very near future.

Always Love, Nelly- One of my fav movie quotes that I use to think was ridiculous- "I am CEO of this household..." Alright, I get it. (the movie is One Fine Day) And it really is.

Home Alone Dates

2010-09-07T14:26:00.000-07:00

Look, I'm just keepin' it real. And it's real nice to have a lunch date at home alone with your hubby.

I've decided to be a grown up during the day while my kids are away at school. I've started reaching for plates made of glass rather than plastic. Why not use a fancy glass for my ice water? Sliced mango, a bagette and bree for lunch. A little quiet time in the middle of the day with the Bee. I feel very French.

Always Love, Nelly- (In my best french accent)- How you say?...Ooohh LaLa.

Lunch Dates

2010-09-03T11:34:00.000-07:00

The Bee and me feeling oh so free

A fantastic way to keep oneself busy the first week your kids are back to school is to have lunch dates with a handsome man. Luckily I have one of those at my disposal. I just make a call or send a text and he arrives. It's amazing!

I'm glad my fabulous husband made himself available. I'll be hitting him up for company very often on these lonely days. And it's pretty fun to hit on your husband! Dropping everything to meet for lunch is a very nice perk of having the kids off at school. I highly recommend it.

Distraction

2010-08-28T15:04:00.000-07:00

Everyone says that I'll get used to being all alone during the day while the kids are at school. I know they're right but I'm going to be proactive this first week. I don't want to break down and spend the days crying in my bed, counting the minutes until school gets out. I've decided to celebrate!

I love the beginning of the school year. In most places around the country (not here) it ushers in Autumn which is my absolute favorite time of year. I feel very connected to and poetic about Autumn this year. It's a time of significant change. Shedding, making way for the new. I can relate.

What better way to distract myself from such unpleasantness as being all alone for the first time in 9 1/2 years than to have a party?! Okay, a small gathering. A Back to School Breakfast to be exact. I love spending time with great people and it just so happens that my friends are great people. Imagine that! One of those great friends is undergoing a great challenge at the moment. Oh the things we endure to bring children to this world. So difficult and so worth it.

We gather at sweet Rachel's house to share a decadent breakfast of homemade donuts, fritters and meaty, creamy pastry variation by the name of Beef Wellington (breakfast style.) We need to get as many calories into Rachel as possible and we were doing our best to serve. I over stayed my welcome as always and then headed out to do a bit of errands and work around the house and then it was time to pick up the littles from school.

I made it! I survived! Which is good because I have 12 more years to go. And I need to start preparing for them actually leaving for good. No. Stop. Not gonna think such thinks.

Always Love, Nelly- What else can I distract myself with?

It happened

2010-08-26T13:58:00.000-07:00

They left! all of this anticipation and woe and they just left. Walked off. Happy as all get out to head off to school. I'm supposed to be happy about this. I work hard to help my kids see school as an exciting privilege. Couldn't they miss me a little? Nope. I'm gonna be excited for them and wait patiently for the school day to end so I can hear all about the fun. I've decide and so it will be.
(They love to match each other. This is their "rocker" look. They all have guitars on their shirts)

I didn't shed any tears. My heart was nearing explosive levels of excitement and joy for each of my littles. But no tears! I think tears in the past have been about regret. Regretting the quality time I didn't spend with my kids when I could have. Knowing that I could've done better but now, even if I wanted too, I couldn't get that time back. Yes, I know I could home school (in theory) but that's not the objective here. No tears this time because I choose to find joy in this journey. Change is alright. It can even be great once in a while.

So here I am at another fork in my road. Now What?

Always Love, Nelly- I'll be the one outside the school with my face pressed against the fence waiting to see those sweet faces. (It's o.k. I'm a mom not a pervert)

Incentives

2010-08-22T16:32:00.000-07:00

My girls have needed some incentive to actually finish reading a book this summer. I suppose we all get a bit distracted during the Summer months. And I've been guilty of starting a book and taking a significant amount of time to finish it. So, when I found my girls a little less interested in reading at the end of the Summer I decided to give them a challenge. And every challenge needs an incentive.

I challenged my girls to read the Beverly Cleary book Beezus and Ramona. The incentive was a trip to see the new movie that is based on the Ramona book series. Does this constitute a bribe? Well, it would be nice if my kids had a constant love of reading but at this juncture they needed me to light their fires. My bribery had the intended effect. The girls liked the book and have started reading others in the series. Mission accomplished. I'll be adding that to the Good Mother column of the score sheet.

As promised, I headed out for a Double Daughter Date with our besties the Hardy girls. Ramona the movie only stayed in our local theatre for one week so we were forced to take a day trip to the big city. It's one of the dangers of living in a small town though I prefer the danger of missing out on a movie to the danger of being murder at the local gas pump. We make do. KK was so excited for our date that after they washed the car she got out the window chalk and wrote all over the windows. She's picking up on her mother's insane ways of making any experience an event. Good Mother column.

I like experiencing these things with my girls. Introducing them to a bottomless popcorn tub and sneaking in your own candy. My little partners in crime. I'll be adding this to the Bad Mother column of the score sheet. I've been fussing so much about JoJo starting kindergarten that I haven't expressed how much I already miss my girls. I love spending time with them. I don't have sisters and it's fun to watch them interact and experience things I never have.

I purposefully had dates this week with my littles. Just a couple days until school officially starts. Deep breathes.

Always Love, Nelly-Bribery and Snack Sneakery are just two of the crimes I teach.

The other man

2010-08-15T09:17:00.000-07:00

I had a super cute guy ask me out on a date. JoJo was a very fun guy to go out on the town with. He chose to take me bowling. We had a yummy dinner at the bowling alley. Hamburger, hot dog, fries, onion rings, what more could a girl ask for? We had a lively game of bowling. He bowled for me most of the time, showing me how it's done.

JoJo was excited to play games in the arcade. We finished up our bowling and food and were getting ready to hit the arcade when JoJo had to rush to the restroom. ALERT ALERT I can say that this was a part of the date I'd never experienced before. I'm glad most my dates don't get diarrhea unexpectedly (though his choice in food probably had something to do with it) and need help cleaning out their pants. I've had some bad dates but...

We skipped the arcade but promised to return soon to finish off the date right. I drove the 15 minutes home and found JoJo fast asleep in the car. That's gotta be a sign of a good date. I think he was trying to say "you're a "knock out." And I am and he is a terrific date.

Always Love, Nelly-I'm dating this cute guy who poops his pants sometimes and I'm gonna miss having him around all day.

The end is near

2010-08-09T14:07:00.000-07:00

Summer is wrapping up. We are two short weeks from the start of another school year. The end is nearing. I'll have zero children at home during the day. They'll all be off at school, learning and growing. I'm starting to panic.

I really don't do as well as I'm capable of while my kids are at home with me. I should do more. Spend more time and attention on things of importance. Yet, I still want them around. I want to neglect them. I want to hug and kiss them whenever they want. I want to be frustrated over trying to divide my attention evenly. I want to lay on the bed, side by side, reading books silently. I want them to make messes and get in trouble.

This is just one example of my control issues. Soon I won't be able to do better if I want to. My chance will be gone. No more tomorrows to hopefully do better. They'll be off, out in the world spending their days with a teacher and classmates. Oh how the control being handed over to someone else makes me quake. A teacher spending so much time with my littles.

And what will become of me? What do I do with myself while someone else has charge over my responsibilities? I need to make a plan! I need to have a schedule! I may lay in bed sobbing all day if I'm not proactive about this. I'm not a big fan of change. Change and I don't get along. I especially don't like when change invites loss to the party without asking. Truthfully, that's what this all seems like. Loss of a young and sweet time in my children and I's lives.

Moving forward. Moving on. Growing up. Who needs it?

Always Love, Nelly,- I've got two weeks to get on board.

Adventure

2010-08-04T22:11:00.000-07:00

Another great idea I had to keep myself young and fresh is to take more opportunities for adventure. This really is a brilliant plan. Trying new things is always good. Perfect for someone like me who's trying to reinvent themselves. Can't do the same old stuff or you'll be the same old person.

The B and I decided to climb Mt. Whitney together with a group of friends this summer. After I was done with my marathon training, I planned on hitting the StairMaster for the 5 weeks prior to our hike. That didn't happen. Plans changed and I spent 3 weeks laying poolside at a resort on the ocean instead. Great plan, no?I went forward with the hiking plans as not to disappoint my sweet B but that may have back fired a bit.

We made the hour and a half drive to the Mt Whitney area and camped overnight as to acclimate to the altitude. Did you know that Mt. Whitney is the highest peak in the lower 48 states? (Only beat by McKinley in Alaska which I don't think counts. If I had climbed this peak prior to 1959 it would be the tallest in the U.S.A.) We woke up bright and early, had a mountain man breakfast and hit the trail.

I was nervous. And, as it turned out, I had a right to be. I went about a mile and a half and knew I was in trouble. I really should have trained. This isn't smart. I'm gonna end up like those warning signs for hikers. There will be a picture of me on a gurney being hoisted into a helicopter. The caption will read "Don't be dumb. This isn't easy." I had six miles to hike that day and I needed to get 'er done.

On I trudged up this granite stair case they call a trail while carrying twenty-five extra pounds strapped to my back. I swear those steps are made for a six foot three man. Every step was like climbing hurdles. My thighs were on fire. My feet finally gave out. I got a blister. My back was seizing up from carrying my pack. I think it was having flash backs to the marathon and wasn't pleased with my careless abuse of it. I could just about hear it yelling "Not again. You promised." I had the beginnings of altitude sickness. (Maybe that's why I thought I could hear my body talking to me.)

With the help of 5 patient and wonderfully calm men I made it to Trail Camp. And Trail Camp is where I stayed. The rest of my group hiked to the summit the next morning. Another seven miles up would've done me in. I didn't want to waste anymore of their time. They could finish quickly without me.

But I had fun. I ate food out of a bag. Which is what I had looked forward to the most. I slept in a tent just me and the B for the first time. That tent was nestled on a rock over looking a small waterfall, snow and a beautiful lake. I saw lakes and meadows and waterfalls aplenty.

The hike down was much easier. The guys were nice and worn out so we evened the playing field a bit. Toward the end my sweet B's knees went out. He was struggling to hike down the last few miles. I scavenged and climbed off the trail to find him some walking sticks. I convinced him to let me carry the heavier pack. We took our time and made it down before dark. More importantly, we made it down before the little grill was closed. We ate our celebratory burgers whilst sitting under very tall trees at the Trail Head.

It was fun. It was an adventure. Another successful journey for sure. Never to be attempted again.

Always Love, Nelly-I am not a hiker but I fake it to impress my husband.

Good Times

2010-07-30T14:18:00.000-07:00

I made a commitment to take every opportunity to have fun. I started with my 30th birthday bash at Magic Mountain. Since then I've discovered lots of excuses for fun. You don't really need a reason to a have fun but I love to throw parties and I love a good theme. Here are some examples:

We had a Polar Express party at our house. The littles made snow flakes and we hung them from the ceiling as decorations. We made a train out of play tunnels and boxes. Our guests made sleigh bell bracelets and decorated cookies. They played some fun games as well. Everyone was invited and we had a large crowd for lots of fun.

Of course Twilight. I love when everyone has a common cause and is on the same page. Twilight gives us that. It's a silly book series which begs silliness in return. I decorate in black and red and fangs and wolves. We play trivia games about the books and movies. We stay up late and attend the midnight showing of which ever movie is being released. It's great fun!

I helped with a friends wedding reception. I prepared food, decorated, ran errands. I helped with all aspects and got my party planning fix. I even enlisted the B to help. He was in charge of the chocolate fountain. It was a fun date.

Speaking of dates...

I also gathered some of my favorite people together for a group Valentine's Day date. It's called Amazing Race: Valentine Edition. Here's a link to the original idea http://meandmyinsanity.blogspot.com/2009/02/amazing-race-valentiness-edition.html

It was a surprise scavenger hunt for our hubbies. All of the wives helped with planning and preparation. We had matching shirts, fantastic food and fun videos to watch of the guys during their hunt. We had the guys doing tricks at a skate park, making cards, finding flowers and dancing to Miley Cyrus songs. It was incredible fun. (for us)

We don't need reasons for fun but we can always find excuses for fun. We need it. It's important. And I love it!

Always Love, Nelly- It's my life and I'll party if I want too.

I have feelings about that

2010-07-24T13:57:00.000-07:00

Commencing rant:

We had a great time last summer with an American Girls club I started up. We chose the Kit Kittredge series. It is about a young girl who lived threw the Depression era. Very relevant to our times. We read one book a week and then had a weekly meeting and activity that would reinforce what was learned in that weeks book. It was great and I would love to continue with the club during the school year if time permits. (we traveled too much to do it this summer)

One conflict we have is the girls desire to own an American Girl doll. They read the Kit Kittredge series and would love to have the Kit doll. I've never liked the idea of American Girls dolls but recently my dislike has grown to loathing. I'm really bothered by the commercial exploitation of children. It used to be illegal to advertise to children on t.v.. That ban was lifted and now all we watch is PBS because it's commercial free.

Here's a good example of why I loathe the brand : http://oneofthosehorriblemoms.blogspot.com/2007/03/fake-out.html

I don't want my kids to be wrapped up in LABELS and BRANDS starting as infants. I want to avoid the need to have certain things. Is a knock off doll any less FUN than a brand name doll? I don't think so. I could just get over it and take the easy road by breaking down and buying them the doll or letting them save for it but I'm past even that. I can't in good conscience support a company that is so exclusive. The books and dolls are such a great resource to get girls interested in reading, learning, imaginative play, and history. They could really benefit a lot of girls if they were more accessible.

O.K. I'm done.

Always Love, Nelly-Unless you're from American Girl and then Always Loathe, Nelly :)

I'm a winner!

2010-07-18T20:56:00.000-07:00

Me kissing my medal!

I made a goal. I trained. I finished. Mission accomplished.

I had my big, fat marathon weekend. I spent 6 hours cruisin' up to San Fransisco with 3 wonderful women. We ate carne asada tacos for brunch at a taco hole. (Delish!) We shopped. We rode a subway and had dinner in a little French-Italian restaurant. There was steam rising from beneath the streets like something from a foreign film I've always meant to watch. We retired to a lovely suite with a view of the SF bay and marinas. And then there was the race...

My stomach was doing flips. The anticipation of this event was comparable to a wedding day or birth of a child. Top 5 for sure. It's an excited, nervous anticipation. I've worked hard. Did I work hard enough? Will my hard work pay off? The starting line is full of women just like me. We've been running our toe nails off preparing for this moment. (No. I got lucky and haven't lost a toe nail yet)

I ran and ran and ran and then ran some more. I ran an entire 13.1 miles. I ran along the San Francisco Bay. I peeped into the windows of beautiful homes, dreaming of living there. I stared out at the water wishing for a kayak right about now. I thought my feet would fall off. I thought my spine might lead a revolt and refuse to bend ever again. Every time I saw a camera pointed at me I mustered up energy and jumped in the air, clicking my heels like I was on the yellow brick road headed for Oz. I was gonna make it. I was gonna do this. And I was gonna wear smile. ( for the camera at least)

The last 2 miles kicked my trash! Isn't that always the way though? The end tends to be the hardest part of any challenge. Dragging yourself just a few more miles. Willing yourself forward and threw the darkest moments of your trial. The races end was in a park. The path weaved threw trees and I couldn't see the finish line. I found myself looking everywhere for the end. I followed the path with no end in sight. "Just stay on the path" I'd tell myself. There was evidence along the way that the end was near. Fellow runners who had reached the end were milling around the park encouraging me to "keep it up. You're all most there." Just like most challenges.

And then nothing was ever so beautiful as the blow up banner/tunnel that was ahead of me. Friends and strangers cheering each other on as we cross the finish line. Finished! I broke into tears. Exhausted and triumphant. I set a goal, prepared, worked and finished. (That may be a first for me.) Yes, I finished. I ran 13.1 miles in 3 hours 20 minutes. I didn't walk. I ran. It's my slow, more of a jog, painful to watch run. But I ran.

I learned a lot about myself during my training phase. Here are a few: I can do things that I never thought possible. I can always go a little further. The music on the Ipod does matter. I'm not as old and dried up as I thought I was. With God all things are possible. I'm a runner.

Always Love, Nelly- Even running can be a spiritual, learning experience if you let it.

Skank is cheap.

2010-07-12T08:04:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the vulgarity Grandma but I'm on fire. School shopping is such a treat. The kids don't need new clothes necessarily but it's a tradition to get something new and clean to start the school year off. Shopping proved to be a blow to my thriftiness.

I thought we could find some cute shorts and capris on sale. It's Summer! People are always having sales! Not today. I can't remember the last time I bought anything that wasn't on sale. That alone is upsetting to the prudent shopper within me. Alas, there were items that were less expensive than others, hence the 6 inch difference in length! Short, shorter and street walker were the choices, I believe.If I wanted my kid to dress like Cindy from Three's Company (Susanne Summers) or Daisy from Dukes of Hazard, I could have gotten more bang for my buck.

An internal war brewed between my cheapness and my morality. It only lasted 10 seconds as I held clothes up to Katie to see just how short they were. But I tried. "Forget it! I'm not even going there." Modesty won and KK and Pippy learned a lesson from their Mom's example.

(Careful for the bathing suits as well. All one pieces are not alike. They really make you work for the modesty these days.) And it's too bad they don't make it easier to dress with a little class. It's hard enough for girls to keep a strong self-esteem amongst the pictures in magazines and images on t.v.. Now they have to search far and wide for clothing that actually covers their skin? Disheartening.

Thankfully, we escaped with shiny new pretties for the littles without too much damage to the bank account and with a healthy lesson learned by all.

Always Love, Nelly-Thriftiness and modesty are both good. Sometimes one value is more important than the other.

Beach livin'

2010-07-06T08:45:00.000-07:00

The B and Pippy kayaking
Me and the littles at Nojoqui Falls

We've been spending a lot of time at the beach this summer. I grew up in a agricultural town near the ocean. I miss the predictable comfortable weather. Dressing in layers daily is a girls dream come true. It's like 4 costume changes threw out the day! I adore the beach. There is something that naturally draws humans back to water. The instinct that water brings life or a remembrance of having lived and breathed in water for our first 9 months. Whatever it is, I have it.

The B is traveling to the seashore on business and we are tagging along. A two room suite that walks out onto the beach is hard to pass up. It's a welcomed reprieve from 110 degree weather in our current desert home.

We also enjoy our week long family vacation to the beach. We camp just yards from the waters edge, spend days digging and boogie boarding, surfing and kayaking, fall asleep listening to the waves crash. We watch dolphins and seals play in the water near shore daily. It really is a magical thing to be near the ocean. I'm grateful for opportunities to share time at the seashore with my family. How much do you think it would cost to live here with this view?

Always love, Nelly- I'm lovin' livin' at the beach if only for a few weeks.

Run Nelly Run

2010-07-01T08:08:00.000-07:00

(This is what I'll look like after my race)
I've got a two month sentence handed down to me. Two months to transform myself into something I'm not. A runner.

Sweet Becky gave me this training schedule:
http://www.marathonrookie.com/half-marathon-training.htm

This is how I will die. Or how I'll reach my goal of finishing a half marathon. We'll see which happens first.

I've been running 3 days a week. I have 2 mornings a week when I have all the kids away at school. Saturdays and some Fridays when the B is off work I can take off as well. I started at the gym on the treadmill. When I got to where I was running 3 miles without stopping I switched to running outdoors.

Running outdoors is hard. A lot different than on the treadmill. The upside is that there is scenery. The downside is missing out on my time with the many political news stations being played at the same time in the gym. I learned a bunch from reading subtitles and tickers while listening to Aerosmith as I ran on the treadmill. Now that's multitasking!

I'm excited about the progress I'm making and that I'm actually keeping up with the training schedule. Look at me go.....

Always Love, Nelly- I was introduced to a few politicians at the gym recently.

Lovebugs

2010-06-25T15:02:00.000-07:00

The B and JoJo the day they first met.

I'm in love with my boys! My girls are adorable and so snugly and fun. But there is something about these guys in my life that just tickles me. The B and JoJo are both completely in love with me. I think it's so much more magical with JoJo (as far as the kids go) because I know it will end much more quickly than it will with my girls.

Every time JoJo covers me with kisses I melt just knowing all too soon he'll be totally done with me. I hold out hope that my girls will continue to share loving moments with me well into the future. I'm terrified for the day when he's to cool for his mom.

Counting with dread the days until Kindergarten. Until then I'm enjoying every smooch and I'm grateful for a great husband who'll always be the snugly guy in my life.

Always Love, Nelly- I'm in love with two dudes and I don't care who knows it.

Dream a little dream

2010-06-20T19:09:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in my courtyard on a comfy couch with my feet up on the furniture. The B helped Pippy make muffins and I'm going to help them deliver them to our sweet widowed neighbor. It's a great evening.

For some reason this moment reminds me of a conversation we had in Sunday School recently. I think we were talking about good works or service or balance, something along those lines. I remember saying " It's my absolute dream to be independently wealthy. Swimming in so much money that I can dispose of it as I see fit. Find and contribute to wonderful charities and start charities of my own. I dream of being a philanthropist.

I thought this was a common goal of the masses but I was off base. Most people in the class were surprised by a dream like this. Maybe they were surprised that this was MY dream. I'm a very unlikely candidate to reach philanthropy. That must be more obvious to others than I realized. This fact won't change my dream at all. I know God judges by the desires of the heart and I do too. If that's all my dream ever amounts too? It's enough.

Maybe my classmates have more realistic, attainable dreams. I have those too. That's why this little scene of my life tonight brought to mind my dreams. Big and small.

It's a dream come true to sit in this little place surrounded by people I love and who love me back. To watch Pippy teach JoJo how to ride a two-wheeler on our sandy drive way. It's small, ordinary. It's glorious.

Always Love, Nelly- I have a dream. It's big and it's stayin'.

Pregnant?

2010-06-15T11:12:00.000-07:00

Nope. Not me. I just look it. The B went shopping and found a couple things for ME. So sweet and so rare that a guy would want to pick out clothes for a woman that could actually be worn outside the bedroom. He's great that way. Problem being that one shirt he purchased was an empire waisted job and I looked preggers in it. It will promptly be returned.

I actually look pretty good when I'm pregnant. I have an excuse for the protruding belly when I'm pregnant. I remember when I was pregnant with JoJo and first moved to Ridgecrest, everyone said how cute I was pregnant. I always said " I'm glad you think so because I look like this after the baby too." I don't want to look pregnant when I'm not.

Pippy keeps telling me I have a baby in my stomach. It escalated to "you need to go to the hospital and get your baby out." Girl, if only it were that easy. Childbirth is far from "easy" but if I could have 1 day of labor and delivery and be the proud ex-parent of my belly....I'd do it.

I'm hoping all of this running will help shed some poundage. I'm still running my little hiney off. If that could be a literal statement it would all be worth it. I'm envisioning me running down the roads of town. Fat falling to the ground. The pounds would be fleeing from my body as if they needed to escape from the torture that exercise must be to them. Fat cells would simply shrivel up into nonexistence. If only...

Always Love,Nelly-I'm not pregnant. But if you ask when I'm due I'll say December to spare your embarrassment. You can just wonder why the baby never seems to be born.

I'm on the run

2010-06-12T07:31:00.000-07:00

Now what? No I didn't turn to a life of crime to invigorate myself. I want to post about a new adventure I undertook but hadn't yet chronicled. I'm on the run!
I don't run. It's more of a force-my-body-forward jog. I'd like to be a runner but I'm not.

My great friend Becky is a runner. She used to not be a runner too but now she is. Sweet Becky has been encouraging me to start running for a while now. I never could get into it. Becky knows what buttons to push with me. She found a race for us to run together. That wasn't gonna be enough. She made sure this race had everything I'd need to get on board. It's an all women's race, it's flat, it's in a cooler climate, you get chocolate and a new running shirt at the end. (It's sounding pretty good.) The race is in Alameda which is a good distance from where I live so we'd be forced to make it a little trip. BINGO Magic words. Becky knows me so well.

I'm nervous about the race. I'm not a runner but I have a new commitment to finding any excuse for fun. And parts of this sure sound fun. Can I make myself a runner in this short amount of time? We'll see.

Always Love, Nelly-I'll do a host of things that I thought I'd never do just to get out of town.

Characters

2010-06-09T08:26:00.000-07:00

I like using nicknames for my family when I write. It makes them characters in my story. And they really are characters of my life.

Nelly: That's me! It's my nickname and I own it now. I used to be a lot like Nelly Olesen from Little House on the Prairie. And like that Nelly I also turned out well as a grown up. My extended family are the only ones that call me that. I think they do it to remind me of how awful I used to be. Now it's endearing.

The B:
My hubby Brent. The B is fitting not only because of my Sesame Street mentality of B is for Brent but he is a worker bee. That guy can do anything. He fixes things around the house, builds things, works on the car. I don't know why I'm always surprised at what he can do, he's a rocket scientist by trade. He also has a life long love of flying and best of all he makes my heart go buzz whenever he's around. Yeah, I know. Mush-o-rama but true. So, he's the B to me.

KK: My daughter Katie is 9 years old. She was given this nickname by her little brother. She hates it. I use it. That's sort of how we work around here.

Pippy: My daughter Grace is 7 years old. I really considered naming here Pipen but decided that she would be forever doomed as an artist or hippy merely by association to her name. We went with Grace. It fits her perfectly but I miss calling her Pippy. This domain is all mine so I can call her what I want. Pippy.

JoJo: My son Joey is 5 years old. We call him Joey, Joe, or the Joe man. JoJo is my favorite nickname. It's the word for french fries in England. I do love fries and I could easily eat this kid up.

Littles: Littles are children, kids, kiddos. We use littles.

I like nicknames. As you'll see I also LOVE to make up words. It's part of the joy of life.

Always love, Nelly- I have a compulsion to shorten and/or add the ie sound to your name. I'm a nickname-aholic.

Peter Pan complex

2010-06-07T07:14:00.000-07:00

I have a little issue with getting older. The first fork I've come to in entering this new phase of life is my 30th birthday. I was lamenting the 20 something years being passed and gone. I was turning 30 and that means I'm old. I thought about having a policy to only be friends with people older than me because I like being the young one of the group. That wouldn't work. I'd miss out on so many opportunities to learn and grow from and with great people if I did that.

So here's my plan for thwarting of elderly status. Roller coasters.

Not just any roller coasters. I'm going to the scariest, most thrilling, death defying amusement park you can imagine. Magic Mountain! And it's gonna work it's magic on me.

This birthday will not slip in and out of my life leaving it's wake of destruction to my ego and self perception without a revolt! I gathered good girlfriends with a hankering for danger and a day away from littles and we headed out for our adventure.

A day away means anonymity. No one places a judgment on my age based on how many littles I have in tow. I'm merely one of a group of crazy ladies running from thrill to thrill having a great time.

There were moments to show our age like stopping to use a breast pump, make phone calls home and buy souvenirs for the littles. Not to mention my sweet friend who occasionally blacks out when the rides hit too much G force. Other than that...

There and then on that momentous birthday I made a conscience decision to never pass quietly into the night that is our growing older. I'm not old! I'm young and I'm gonna enjoy every moment of this new phase of life. So much so that I, nor no other, will venture to guess my age. There is much fun to be had and I'm gonna think of every excuse to have it.

My age doesn't matter. How I choose to move forward in life does.

Always Love, Nelly- No numbers gonna tell me how to feel. Except maybe the scale...I'll work on that next.

Where did the babies go?

2010-06-05T08:53:00.000-07:00

Everything seems to be converging on me at once. There was an element of the notion the B and I had not considered. Turning 30, procreating ended and sending ALL our kids off to school happening all at once.

We hadn't anticipated that turning the big 3-0 wasn't gonna be easy. It's a birthday one might think...until it happens to you. Until you realize that your notion has caused you to skip over your carefree 20's in one fell swoop. Then the birthday comes and solidifies the truths you've known all along and wouldn't admit. You're 30 and you've been 30 for awhile.

I also didn't realize the notion would have me done with the caring-for-baby stage by age 30. I guess I knew but I didn't know that I would feel too young to be done. Strange to be evicted from the circus that is juggling infants and toddlers.

Our magic number 3 was born when I was 25. Now, at age 30, all of my littles will be in school. 30 years old, no babies and an empty house from 8-2? This gonna take some getting use to.

Ever the optimist, I'm going to enjoy this. We didn't have the foresight to recognize the feelings this transition might bring but we're forging ahead and making necessary adjustments as needed.

And I'm starting with my 30th birthday!

Starting anew

2010-06-03T18:07:00.000-07:00

When the B and I got married we had this interesting notion that we could have all of our children here on this earth with us by age 30. We don't want what we'd consider a huge family. 3 is the new 5 you know. And 5 is the new 8, in case you hadn't heard.

Forward we marched with our notion in hand. We'd be young and energetic while our kids were likewise. The extra bonus is having our kids all grown up by our early 40's. Brilliant!
Here's the catch:
Did anyone ever tell you how exhausting parenting is? I know, me neither! I moved ever so swiftly from peoples disbelief that I was old enough to be married to there astonished looks at me hugely preggers with 2 daughters ages 4 and 2 in tow. After baby #3 rounded out the family I didn't seem to make a stir places we'd go. No one seemed to think it odd that I had my little brewed.

Disclaimer to our notion: Having kids makes you old! I know, me neither! I had no idea. Having littles around should keep you young, no? NO. I was 25 when baby #3 was born but I was rocketed to a societal perception of 32-35! That's right. Partially due to the "mom sense of style" and the wear and tear on the old baby maker but mostly because normal people get married and have a car full of kids in their 30's.

This revelation is quite new for me. I'm still adjusting. I hope this will act as a warning and wake up call to all and any who are under the same notion. You've been warned.

Always Love, Nelly-
I love the B, my littles and my life even though they make me old.

What are you gonna do with yourself?

2010-06-01T15:13:00.000-07:00

When you're a stay-at-home mom and your youngest child is turning 5 and approaching kindergarten you get this question a lot. "What are you gonna do with yourself?" Everyone from all walks of life asks this same question.

The stay-at-home mothers with teeny littles of their own can't begin to fathom what they would do with their days free of an endless cycle of bodily fluids. Nurse, burp, spit up, pee, sneeze, poop, drool and the cycle starts over.

Worker bees of course assume I'll get a job that actually pays in a currency other than kisses or continue my education.

Mothers who currently have children of all ages in various schools and grades can attest that I'll have PLENTY to keep myself occupied. All worthy pursuits.

THIS is what I'll do with myself! I love to write. I'll explore the different paths I can take at this fork in my life's road and document it in my writings. I think I'll explore this love of writing and entertaining people and hope it becomes a passion. Hopefully my passion will be appreciated by many and in turn I will be adored by said fans.

Always Love, Nelly- Really I hope to help someone someday. Even if it's just by making them smile.