Monday, March 28, 2011

Six years ago

My niece, Isabella, had her 6th birthday last week. It was then that I realized, I've been working full-time at the University of Utah for six years. Isabella was born a week before I started work. When I experienced writer's block yesterday, I was reading some old letters. When I saw what I wrote Darren six years ago, I decided to include his letter for this post. It pretty much captures how I felt. The picture below is one of the two pictures I included in his letter. March 25, 2005 Dear Elder Pugh, You thought I was seeing RED before, now I really am seeing RED. Starting Wednesday, March 30th, I will be working at the University of Utah. It will be hard that first day. Instead of taking a nap after walking the mall, I will head off to work. My two months off are coming to an end. But I have to admit going to work is better than looking for a job. Your favorite pest, Susan March 28, 2005 Dear Elder Pugh I thought I had better finish this letter. I am working on Race For The Cure fund raising efforts and I thought while I was printing off letters, I may as well finish this letter. My niece, Tracina had another daughter a week ago. Her other daughter, Vanessa is eleven, so she has baby sitter already. And like Crystal, Vanessa likes babies. (and shoes, too.) Vanessa has wanted another baby for a very long time. When she was three or four, Vanessa was telling people that she was getting another baby. Tracina had quite a bit of explaining to do. Well, this is it. Time to put this letter in the mail. Once again, Susan

Note: My neice, Vanessa is about 6 months older than Darren's sister, Crystal.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

A Timely Dream That Saved the Morning

I was having writer's block, so I went thru a few letters that I written my missionaries. Since what I wrote about happen 3 years this month, I thought I would share this letter.



March 11, 2008


Congratulations, Elder Mark Pugh,


(I enclosed this letter with some fudge that I had made and I decided to congratulate Elder Pugh on his recent soon-be- gone possession of chocolate.)


I will end my letter with a thought from President Eyring’s conference talk. I saw the hand of God reaching out to touch me and my brother when the power went out in the middle of night. I was having this dream and I could not make out what the clock was telling me. It was skipping from 5:30 to 6:30 am and I knew I had to get up. My mom told me it was two am. What was my mom doing up at 2am? So I woke up for real and turned my head to look at the radio clock. I didn’t see any display on the clock radio. I realized the power was out. So I fished the cell phone (that has alarm) from my purse. I quickly turn it on and set the alarm for an unearthly hour. And I told Jay the power was out. I was so glad I had that dream because it prompted me to wake and look at my clock. I was still able to get up on time and get to work on time. The power did come on at five am, half hour after I noticed the power outage. But still, I would have woke up to a flashing display of the wrong time had I not had the dream. I probably would had missed the bus and been late to work.


Your interesting family friend, Susan

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Pennies & Spare Change

I was having a late breakfast at McDonald’s in downtown Salt Lake City on Monday. Since I had no reading material, I read the paper placemat that lined the tray while I ate. (Actually, it was a picture of a Jazz basketball player that caught attention. Apparently, he volunteers at the Ronald McDonald House in Salt Lake City.) I was seeing the letters RMHC in the little snippets of information on the placemat. I understood the first three, but I wasn’t sure about the letter C. I thought maybe Center. Looking under my Bacon, Egg Cheese Biscuit I found that C was for Charities. I also learned that each Happy Meal that is ordered, a penny goes to Ronald McDonald House Charities. I am thinking selfish McDonald’s could up it to at least a nickel or a dime. There are a lot of sick children out there and economy isn't exactly doing very well, beside those Happy Meals aren’t that cheap. The placemat also told me that there are donation containers at the counter. So I looked at the counter, but I couldn’t see any thing that looked like a donation container so I left the food court without donating my spare change. But I decided that Mo, my niece who has a birthday this summer would get a McDonald’s gift card with a dime or a dollar attached. Then she can donate a it to RMHC and help a child’s family out while the child is in the hospital.
Reading about the donating at the counter reminded me of the pennies that I and my Primary classmates would drop in a round container each Wednesday afternoon. I don’t think I donated every week and I don’t think every Primary child did. But something was collected every week in the Paul 2nd Ward, even when most of us went to the local mom and pop grocery store nearby. The Primary President wasn’t too happy about that. Those children in the Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake wouldn’t get the care they needed without those pennies. Even though I bought penny candy at the store, I made sure I had enough pennies for my birthday. On our birthdays we were expected to donate our age in pennies to the Primary Children’s Hospital. The container even looked like the hospital that was located in Avenues of Salt Lake City.
A few hours after I got home, I looked up Ronald McDonald House. I wanted to know if there are donation containers in every McDonald’s. There is and it looks like it is shaped like a tissue box. Next time, I will know what to look for and from now on, it will be cash only at McDonald’s so that change can go to the donation box. And each fall, I will donate to Primary Children’s Hospital “Pennies by the Inch”. (Over the years the Birthday Pennies morphed into the now annual “Pennies by the Inch”, where one donates by height instead of age.)

Who knew that Primary birthday pennies would set the path to donating spare change at McDonald’s?

Sunday, March 20, 2011

St. Patrick’s Day & Clover Club

The week before St. Patrick’s Day, a sign-up sheet went around the office for the St. Patrick’s Potluck Lunch. I chose to bring chips, hoping that Smith’s would have Clover Club potato chips. So when Jay went grocery shopping that Friday night, I went along. As I scanned the chip isle, I saw Lay’s Sour Cream & Onion potato chips, but I continue down to the end where as luck would have it, Clover Club potato chips were there in different flavors. On each package was a four leaf clover, just like the bags in my childhood days. I thought it was perfect for St. Patrick’s Day. I remember eating Clover Club chips as child. I don’t think I had Lay’s potato chips until I went to LDS Business College or maybe high school. Clover Club chips weren’t the only potato chips that my mom brought home. She bought some store brand chips a time of two. Once I moved back to Utah, I seldom saw Clover Club chips. Lay’s seems to dominate the chip isle. And that is bit odd, because Clover Club plant is in Kaysville, Utah. For a few years, I don’t remember seeing Clover Club on the shelves. Clover Club may have been bought out by another company, but the bags I bought that Friday night claimed to be made in Kaysville, Utah. I was buying local at grocery store that had Utah roots.
And on Thursday, I made it a point to wear green, a first in many years. I usually don’t get into wearing green on St. Patrick’s, probably thanks to Fred from Paul Elementary, who would pinch anyone who did not wear enough green. The boy was so big on St. Patrick’s, that I grew wary of the holiday. But the University Campus Store had a promo for St. Patrick’s. Instead of the usual red or white Utah t-shirt, it was green. They sold three varieties. I bought large women’s t-shirt, but after I bought I realized it was too small, so I went back the next day and I bought a medium t-shirt. It fit so much better and I wore that one. I sent the large t-shirt to Crystal. I hope it fit her. She’s like me, not into tight.
When I got to work, three others were wearing the same t-shirt I gave Crystal. I was the only wearing a different green t-shirt. Some didn’t wear green, although Jen wore green Mardi-Gras beads with her blue polo shirt. Pat is New York Irish, so he had no need to wear green. We had our pot luck lunch. Some one brought corn beef for the subs we ate. Someone even made green frog eyed salad. My chips weren’t much of hit because I came home with a bag and half of Clover Club potato chips. I doubt people even noticed the four leaf clover on the bag. They probably thought the chips Lay’s. Hod and Clover Sanders, your posterity needs to educate the State of Utah.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Me & IRS

A few weeks ago, I asked for time off during Spring Break, which starts on Monday for the University of Utah. Since I couldn't take a Wednesday (my boss Pat's usual day off) or the following Friday (Hazen beat me to it.), I opted for the Friday before and the Monday that would follow. Since I had procrastinated the day of reckoning with the IRS, I decided that yesterday, I would start my taxes. Just after I got started I texted my friend, Penny "Doing my taxes. got a six pack & bottle of aspirin?" I could feel a headache coming on. Spent quite some time with the deductions, especially on the item where I donated my car. When I got finished printing & saving 1040 & all its backup and TC40 (or whatever the state tax form is), I walked to Top It frozen yogurt. (It's only 2 or 3 block from my condo.) My brain was so wasted, I could not remember what the dome type thing that goes on the cup when the yogurt is take-out was called. Thankfully, the cashier had not been doing her taxes and said "Do you want a lid?" I said yes, grabbed a blue spoon (Hey, I just finished my taxes, I was blue.) and napkin; paid for the yogurt and left. When I got home, I much enjoyed the well earned treat of samoa cookie, cake batter and dulce de leche low-fat yogurt topped with chopped almonds, kiwi, strawberries, marshmallow creme and carmel sauce. It was well deserved after the temporary loss of my brain. Love ya, IRS! ha-ha.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Chocolate Milk (or the lack of it)

This Friday was my nephew, Brian’s birthday. He turned 21 in the Bentonville, Arkansas. This year I sent him a Subway gift card since I read earlier in the week that there are more Subway locations than McDonald’s. When he gets home to Maple Valley, he may decide to use the card on a ferry. Yes, the article said there was a Subway restaurant located on a Seattle ferry. And hopefully, if he uses this card for breakfast, I hope Subway has chocolate milk. After all, the gift card is a birthday present.
Brian’s 2nd birthday marked the start of the terrible two’s. It was a bad birthday from the moment he woke and went downhill quick. I called early in the morning, I hope before work, because in those days, I didn’t have a cell phone the size of Washington State. (where Brian’s family had just located.) Laura, Brian’s mom and my younger sister, answered the phone. I could hear a very loud Brian crying his heart out over chocolate milk. The milk didn’t spill, there was none in the house and she wasn’t willing to make a 20 minute trip to Albertson’s to get just a carton of chocolate milk. Laura told me there was a transportation problem either because the only car went to work with her husband or the station wagon was a gas hog. Before I hung up, I told Laura to wish Brian a happy birthday (wishful thinking at this point) and that I would try later. Brian was in no mood to talk to anyone, let alone some voice in the telephone. Brian’s mood improved only slightly when I called back that evening. He had stopped screaming, but he was still in a sour mood and would not talk to me. (I hope he let his Grandmas give him birthday wishes.) Starting a day off without chocolate milk is not a good way to start a toddler’s day.
Brian’s next birthday went better, he did allow me to wish him a happy birthday. I think Laura got a little bit wiser or maybe Brian learned a lesson. Sometimes when I write on Brian’s birthday card, I'll say something about chocolate milk. I don’t think Brian cares so much now if he wakes up to chocolate milk or not, he’s probably content with most anything he gets on his birthday, even a greeting. But still, I hope Elder Davis of the Tulsa Oklahoma Mission got chocolate milk on his birthday, because I wouldn’t be surprised that the Subway gift card arrived late. It’s getting tougher to remember all those birthdays.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Jared, his Sister’s Keeper

Last month, I wrote about Jared in “Walking Around the Block”. When I wrote about the lecture he gave me, I realized that Jared had been looking out for his sister all her life. Ever since, Jared’s toddlerhood, I’ve been telling him to take care of his mom. Little did I realize that he took that stewardship to include his younger sister, Crystal.
Once at the cabin, when Crystal was about six and Jared was ten, the three of us decided to walk down to Bear River Station, a convenience store and restaurant, which is (or was) along Highway 150. It meant a two mile hike along a gravel road. Quite a few light trucks heading to the highway passed us. Every time Jared heard a truck, he would walk over to Crystal and put his arm around her. Jared would walk on the outside so that Crystal would be safely on the inside. If one of those “honkin’ big” trucks was going to strike his little sister, they would have to hit him first. It was sweet to watch this as we walked down the road. Later that day, while on a family hike, Jared picked up a tired Crystal and carried her across some rocky terrain. When he carried her, I was reminded of a 70's song, “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s my Brother”. There wasn’t much of weight difference between Jared and Crystal; through out grade school, Jared was always one of the shorter students in his class.
Jared and Crystal are typical siblings, they don’t always get along. Crystal once introduced Jared to my friend, Sarah as “the meanest brother in the world”. They had their fights, but they were friends also. Crystal has often turned to Jared for advice in her teenage years. Now that Jared is on a mission in California, she misses the talks they shared. When Jared called home on Skype this Christmas, Crystal asked everyone to leave the room, while she and Jared talked. Although, Jared may have been “the meanest brother in the world”, he is a favored brother. Jared takes his stewardship as a big brother seriously, giving his sister an example to follow. He guides Crystal gently along and with loving kindness. Jared is his sister's keeper.