Under Constructionia

stiamo ritoccando. scusi prego.

Italian translation? here.

In Conclusion: Use Sacrifice to Show Gratitude

At the beginning of the year I join other Mormons who resolve to read the Book of Mormon in a year's time. Not all Mormons do this, nor is it required of us, I've just noticed that some of my fellow saints like to start the year with a BOM. As do I.

In the beginning of the book there is a story about a prophet named Lehi who is told by the Lord that the great city of Jerusalem is about to be destroyed (which it was). He takes his family and departs into the unknown wilderness leaving behind him a world of luxury. As I read this morning, I noticed that when Lehi and his family were tucked away in the throes of untamed wildlife he built an altar, and with an offering, he thanked the Lord for safe travels.

Reading of Lehi's gratitude made me scribble "daily" in the margins of my book. I need to build an altar and make an offering on a daily basis. I've noticed that when I get behind in recognizing the astonishing amount of blessings in my life I become ungrateful. Isn't that weird?

So all day long today I've thought about the foundation of my altar, and what I could possibly offer as a means to thank the Lord for my daily bread. I understood that the only acceptable offering is personal sacrifice (those things that give us simple broken hearts and contrite spirits). Like for Lehi it was probably a fatted cow. I have so many fatted cows around here . . . in fact here is one right here . . .

But really. What would be my sacrifice?

My answer came this afternoon as we sat in the den lamenting our snowed-in state. The boys and I were on the floor creating towers of various layouts with brand new wood blocks (thanks Lindsay!) When the architect of each tower was satisfied, the others were allowed to knock the whole structure over in a dramatic fashion. And repeat until it bores.

Here was my altar, built out of wood blocks, stacked up as high as balance would allow. And my offering? An afternoon downstairs with Ollie, Gigs and The Chief. Even letting my brilliant towers be whacked to wrecked blockages. It is a meager something, but it is something. My way of expressing gratitude for the ability to expend time as wanted. And (much) more.

I am so relieved to know that it doesn't take more than sincerity to please the Lord. I lack a lot of controlled genuine moments in my life, but when I play blocks with the boys I mean it. Heaven Oh Mighty I mean it! I stack with sweat and concentration that would permanently furrow. If towers make my altar, and time is my offering, I can certainly resolve to do it daily.

But remember this: in twenty-or so years when my house quiets down a bit I think I might go to architecture school. You should see the way I can structure! Talk about hidden talents.

Starting With The Spice

Way back last year Jane asked me when I was going to be spicy again. It became a personal theme: 2009, Spicy One More Time. And I wanted to record that The Spice has begun via paint chips in my living room.

But before we start that we've got to make the wallpaper disappear and resolve to paint over the birch paneling.

Choices, choices.

Vote Like Your Mama Told You To

Tis the season to vote for all of your favorite things in 2008, I guess. Thanks to some readers I got word tonight that I am a finalist for the Weblog Awards. My category is Best Major Blog. I didn't even know I had a Major blog. What does this mean?

Okay I feel sheepish about me asking you to vote for me. But it's only because tonight when I was with the girls waiting in line to get sandwiches at our local (very crowded) sandwich shop my skirt fell down to my ankles and I didn't even know it until Claire was laughing uproariously (cue all costumers: look this way) and I had never felt more like a loser. I was wearing a large and spacious coat which made the movements of bending over and retrieving my skirt that much more awkward. And to add, I was wearing pink rubber boots. It was disturbing start to finish.


Anyway, right now I am losing big time to Post Secret. So, if you wanna cast a vote for me you can do so here.

Auction 4 Ski The Canyons

This auction is for a group of 5 Canyon's ski passes. Ski with friends and/or family at the Canyons.

Auction closes midnight on January 8th.

Auction 3 Ski Snowbasin

This auction is for a group of 5 Snowbasin ski passes. Ski with friends and/or family at Snowbasin.

This auction closes midnight January 8th.

Auction 2 Ski Alta

This auction is for a group of 5 Alta ski passes. Ski with friends and family at Alta.

This auction close midnight on January 8th.

Auction 1 Ski with Chad Lewis

This auction is for an opportunity to ski with Chad Lewis, BYU great and NFL Pro-bowler. Ski for an hour with Chad, who is not only a great football player, but a great skier and an extra-ordinary person.

Auction closes midnight on January 8th.

Nie Ski Day Auctions

In conjunction with the Nie Ski Day coming up on Thursday I've been asked by the very generous people at Canyon Sports to hold some very cool ski-ish auctions on my blog. These auctions will start tonight (Jan.4) as soon as I press publish and run until the evening of the Nie Ski Day on January 7th (midnight.)

If you would like to bid, simply put the dollar amount in the comment section of each corresponding auction. When the auctions are final we will get you in contact with Canyon Sports so that you can receive your prize. And what prizes they are!

1. Ski with Chad Lewis, BYU great and NFL Pro-bowler. Ski for an hour with Chad, who is not only a great football player, but a great skier and an extra-ordinary person.

2. Group of 5 Alta ski passes. Ski with friends and family at Alta

3. Group of 5 Snowbasin ski passes. Ski with friends and/or family at Snowbasin

4. Group of 5 Canyon's ski passes. Ski with friends and/or family at the Canyons

Ready? Begin!

What The World Needs

Less talk of widespread lethal obesity and
more licking of the spoon.

Me in the Center

This morning I was about my business moderating comments, the most loveliest of blogging tasks. As is standard procedure I fished out the grumpy comments about how I am this and how that I am because the world wasn't properly tilted when I was conceived apparently. I guess I should warn the authors of such comments and/or e-mails that their statements are copied and sent out to a committee which determines the skill at which they were meant to offend. The committee consists of wonderfully sarcastic human beings those who could write the tastiest retorts should I say the word. They then let me know if I should go ahead and be offended or not give it a moment's more notice. As of yet, all replies are to forget.

As I read through the kind thoughts and New Year's well wishing, I found a note to me never meant for publishing. Something like this:
c jane

I find you horribly self-centered.

It is really offensive.

I know you won't publish this, I just wanted you to know.

Perhaps, I thought to myself, that this commenter knows very little about blogging. Blogging is the exercise of the self-centered habit. Bloggers must have a degree of self-centeredness or else how could they expect the world to care about their politics or positions on world views much less precious pictures of their posterity?

But to offend someone with self-centeredness?

Now that takes talent.

But as I already posted, 2009 was about seeing the beauty. So I went about my day asking for guidance into my soul. Though I've been told my blog was painted in narcissism before, maybe today was the day of introspection.

I started with breakfast. Mr. Nielson made a grape-colored concoctions from his Vita-Mix (the ninth wonder of the world?) which was gifted to him by Mrs. Nielson for the recent holiday. He made a mug for all the children and one for him. When I saw there was a little bit of fruity gravy at the bottom of the mixer I poured myself a mug. As I did so Mr. Nielson turned his head in my direction and kindly offered me the left-overs.

Look at me! I thought. Taking the Vita-Mix potion before asking! Who do I think I am?

I am self-centered!

I took my first swallow and washed it down with my pride. It tasted grape-y and apple-y and what was the smoothy banana taste? Oh, banana. I was about to retaste again when I was stopped by a small hand on my forearm. The maneuver is one I know well, it reads: The Chief will now have whatever you are having. So I let him in on the goodness with a scoop in his baby spoon. But then he wanted repeated tastes until finally he had tasted my whole self-deserved mug.

Ha! I thought.

I am not self-centered.

Then I noticed my pinky toaster that Honey and Ringo gave me for Christmas sitting next to my pink Kitchenaid. I thought about how much I love having four slots and how pink kitchen appliances are the secret to world peace. Also, my pink appliances and I are raising money to fight breast cancer, which is not a token of self-centeredness. I mean, what does the silver toaster do for cancer? Nothing but cause it, probably.

Later in the evening I went to visit my sister Nie at my parent's house. She will be moving around for awhile as we all pitch in on her care. She is doing so well, but still requires ample medical attention. For now she is living with a sibling who can give her immediate care, but made it to my parent's today for a little of Dad's mashed taters.

We talked about Ollie's birthday tomorrow. About how she is wearing pants instead of hospital gowns. Her white knit cap looked adorable with her short hair. We discussed important matters like how she reconquered her laptop and is starting to read her version of While You Were Sleeping.

And I thought about how much I loved her. I would trade in all my pink appliances (and the Vita-Mix) for her to be comfortable. How at the end of the day I feel less and less heroic and more and more helpless. Lately I've been a tornado stimulated by a negative wind I've allowed into my soul.

So I did like I always do, made a joke at my expense. Which seems to be my way of processing my life, and in so doing gained the perspective I asked for today. Simply put, I handle life with a heavy dosing of humor in the form of narcissism. If I can be the joke which eases a painful moment, then that is my gift. And I totally understand if it is misread. Like the time a reader pointed out that when I called myself an angel in a recent post about Christmas shopping for all the children an angel I really wasn't. "And angel doesn't call herself an angel, instead she gives the glory to God." But really, I was just trying to be funny. You know, to offset the pressing emotions.

And if my blogging about how all of this personal revelation came to pass this evening is further proof that I am self-centered than I, quite frankly, have nothing to say.

Except, guilty as charged.





Awhile back a Nie reader asked if I could occasionally link to Lds general conference talks like Nie used to do on Fridays. Here is a personal favorite of mine which I continually need to be reminded of:

And Nothing Shall Offend Them
by David A. Bednar

Be Forgot

It is cold here in Idaho. Ice, snow and a freezing wind. The canyon out our window makes a wide hole in the earth and stays still. Today is the last day of the year.

I feel a desire to resolute myself. I want to wake up tomorrow a better person. One who is determined to see the changing year as a baptismal of soul. I need not introduce my bad habits and creeping negativism to 2009. As far as I am concerned they can be contained in the year that was 2008.

2008.

I welcomed you with a baby swimming inside my ready-made placenta.

I ended my 30th year, thereby official became a thirty-something.

We bought a second home, Retro House an unassuming structure of wonders.

I contracted.

And contracted.

And finally pushed.

In so doing, became a mother.

And Chup a father.

I realized the secret to happiness is to continually fall in love.

To give the soul reasons for butterflies.

And babies, they'll do it to you.

Then two months or so later.

A phone call.

A plane crash.

We had my sister's children in the family car traveling across the desert.

To a new life and new home.

And the world, coming to our rescue.

Nights where I didn't know if my sister would survive.

Miracles.

Mr. Nielson coming to live with us.

We eat mountains of oranges.

Kentucky gets a clean screen from her re-occurring cancer.

Stephanie transferred to Utah to be near to her mountains.

And, now before 2008 shuts its doors on us forever, she has come home.

(And in 2009, there will be more details, but for now, know that your prayers had much to do with it and we thank God for them.)

If any one year of my entire existence holds more sweet and sour than did 2008, I will be mortally surprised. I'm young though, and who knows what God will ask of me in years to come. He asks me to endure and then sends angels of every degree to help in the task. It is the definition of surreal. Try it sometime. (Or don't.)

But for my Heavenly Father I have decided that I will welcome 2009 with a resolution to focus on beauty. To see more, to feel it more, to identify it in others. The beauty in the natural. An un-Photo Shopped photograph, the acres of sagebrush from here to Utah, The Chief's dancing eyebrows. The beauty in the recovery. My sister, her husband and the children. Then, after all is quiet again, the rediscovery of my Chup and my baby alone in our once-riotous home.

But for now, beauty that no matter what I am an offspring of God who loves me . . .

. . . even on bitter cold days in fertile lands of Idaho.