THANKSGIVING TURKEY TREATS

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving.

Many of you have already eaten the turkey, and will have leftovers with a relaxing day off today, so here is entertainment for the kids to enjoy making - really - I have made these with 4 and 5 year olds - but I do admit I 'let' them eat their own creation. If you want picture perfect place settings or neighbor gifts you may want to do that separately - most kids can't resist finger licking or snacking as they go.

Yes you did see the process last year but that was just for fun. I hope this is a more serious and useful version you may actually be able to follow to create a treat.

Ingredients:

Krispie-rice cereal, 

Butter (real butter = real taste)

Mini marshmallows 

Sandwich cookies                                      

(I prefer chocolate for contrast),

Candy Corn

1 container of icing

 (or powdered sugar to make your own).

[And perhaps some pretty (disposable) plates

and Zip closure bags that the loaded plate will fit in for deliveries].

Note: Watch for Candy Corn in individual bags near Halloween.  For group or class projects one bag per person, per turkey make these very handy.

Add caption

Find a largish bowl that can be microwaved

(the easy/lazy way) or a large kettle that will hold at least 8 cups (bigger is better). I tried it both ways. On the stove top the treats set harder and in the microwave they stay more soft and malleable.

It also depends on the brands you are using.  The marshmallow brand at one store, that has 'great values', made treats that were way too soft and sticky. If you encounter this problem let the mix cool more before handling.

[Aside: I avoid this store as their icing sugar tastes like it is mostly starch!] 

Note: Most mini marshmallows contain 6 cups - the ‘great value’ store brand does NOT!

RECIPE for krispie-rice treats:

1/4 cup butter (real butter = real taste)

6 cups of mini marshmallows

6-8 cups krispie-rice cereal

vanilla to taste (about 1/2 tsp)

I zap the butter just enough to melt it and then pour in about 2/3 of the marshmallows (whatever fits in with extra room to mix) and stir a little bit to coat with butter.

Next I microwave those marshmallows approximately 30 seconds until they soften (will depend on your power settings - I use high) and then add the rest of the marshmallows and zap them again until they are puffing and ready  to beat.

 Add vanilla and beat it in until smooth.

 Add the marshmallow mix to the cereal

and stir until cereal is coated evenly.

Cool slightly.

I put a small amount of butter on my hands, and using a large spoon to scoop out the mix, make balls about 1 - 1/2" to 2" in diameter.

Do not make these too large.

Cooling helps the shapes hold together better -otherwise the mix tends to stick to your hands not itself and the butter just melts.

These are your turkey tummies.

 Form Turkeys:

Split sandwich cookies in half and if icing is not sticking onto the cookie remove it. If it is not firmly adhering to the cookie it will cause trouble later - the tail falls off or the tummy rolls off the base.

Spread inside of both cookie pieces with frosting.

Place ball firmly in center of one cookie. 

Some cookie brands are quite fragile and break easily.

To avoid breakage always lay the cookie

on a flat surface when pressing  the turkey tummies into place. 


Next place that combination onto the other cookie half.
They are now in an L or chair (without legs) shape.

Place one Candy Corn, pointed tip down, at top center of cookie between tummy and cookie (chair back) but extending slightly above cookie edge.

Add an additional piece on either side, (making three) and then another one on both sides of those, making 5 all together. 

These are the tail feathers. 

If you run short of Candy Corn (as I always seem to do) use only 4 evenly spaced.  Pieces of Candy Corn that arrive broken in the package  can readily be used for feather 4 and 5. If needed dip the end of Candy Corn into icing to help secure it into place.

Sometimes I also find I need to gently encourage better shape by giving some pats and a squeeze here and there.

BE ADVISED: this is often when cookies break.

Last but not least select a very nice

Candy Corn for the turkey's beak and head.

Use frosting to 'glue' it to the front of the 'turkey tummy'. 

Keep it fairly low to the base and if desired tilt slightly to create attitude.

 I let the kids make and eat their own - it is my rule! 

Some creative kid is sure to want to add more details –

check out these wonderful wings on this fellow.

wings invented and placed by a determined 6 year old 

THANKSGIVING

Monday, October 10th is Canadian Thanksgiving.


Citizens of Canada and the United States of America live in unparalleled prosperity with so much of EVERYTHING that we grumble about the most minor of lacks of food or clothing, or inconvenience in any little way. We are devastated if electricity or water is off for a short time or our car needs a repair.


Today my cousin posted a Facebook link that made me cry.


I am so foolish and silly. I don't even realize all the wonderful things I have in my life. I take windows and open space, light and air and about a kazillion other things for granted.


Starting today I am going to count my blessings;
one by one by one;
everyday, every single day.


What else do I take for granted?

TALLER

Recently I found an older picture of my parents with my father's brother and parents. My two older brothers are there also, as young children.

I was thrilled to see these family faces. I don't remember my grandmother very well. She died when I was quite young. The picture surprised me. My father is much, much taller than every one else in the picture.

I have never thought of my father as a tall man. Most of my brothers and many cousins are taller than he is. My mother has always seemed kind of short to me.  She doesn't even really clear dad's shoulder at just over 5 feet.

Aug 1972 Garth and Neil S. Forsyth ( both standing)

Looking at the picture I realized mom was not really short - the other adults in the picture are not much taller. I was especially surprised to notice that my grandfather was not a tall man. I did not know that and I knew him well. He lived in our home for a time. I just never considered his adult height.

Jean and Garth Forsyth's comparative height clearly shown
Grandpa Neil Snow Forsyth (seated) with 2nd wife Ruth Rassmussen
children top left to bottom right: Tad, Kati, Ginger, Shawn

When I was growing up if someone stood over 6 feet tall they WERE considered tall. I vaguely remember my dad being proud of being 6 feet tall. I knew my brothers all wanted to be 6 foot tall and that the only one that didn't quite hit the 6 foot mark was a bit disappointed.

I remember the day one of my children sidled up along side of me, threw an arm around my shoulder and announced, "Mom, I am way taller than you are" (partly in response to some discipline and discussion).

He was right. It was true - and I had not really noticed.

I looked up quite startled and momentarily wordless into my son's young grinning face. That is when I noticed the booger just inside of his nose! I smiled and replied, "that is so I can tell if you have booger's up your nose."

His sisters almost died laughing - they could see it too! He denied it but still went and checked - and we all followed along so we could watch. Aren't families wonderful? In families we can experience some of our finest and most terrible moments and still be lovingly bound to each other.

Each of us needs someone to tell us how to keep our 'nose clean'.

I have several grandchildren that are at least 6 feet tall. Totally weirds me out! This week one of my granddaughter's will have a 17th birthday. She is very tall - at least to me - but I am realizing it is all our perspective. Sometimes we don't even notice. That may surprise her and she may disagree but really height doesn't matter in many important ways.

An idiom from my childhood was that if you looked up to someone they were 'six feet tall'.  I look up to my granddaughter in more ways than just lifting my chin so I can see her face.  To me she really is 'six feet tall'.  I hope it will always be that way.

And just in case she ever thinks of doing something foolish I am giving her this reminder, "People who are tall enough (or good enough) to look down on anyone else need to remember that shorter people can 'see up their nose'."

Each of us, short or tall, has talents and vices. I hope each and every birthday will increase our talents and lessen our vices.

Happy Birthday, Meg.

SHOES

BLlleeaahhkhh - I hate shoes.

I have always hated shoes.

When ever possible I am barefoot.

As I take off my shoes, some lyrics from Paul Overstreet's song "Sowin' Love" (a favorite of mine) run through my mind. "I used to love to walk behind my daddy, as he plowed our garden every spring.  My little bare feet in the dirt would make me happy, as we talked about what harvest time would bring."

I do remember walking barefoot in the dirt with stubble scratching my ankles as I ran across a field to catch a horse or lamb.  I can remember how some children cried if they had to walk on gravel - what was their problem I wondered - thistles could hurt you but gravel?? really? 

I seldom wore shoes -

except to town - mandatory -

and to church - expected/coerced ... 

but I could get away with taking them off there.

Socks had to be left on but shoes I might slip off.

My cousin,Vicky, had shiny, red patent, pointy toed slippers.  

I begged for patent shoes, even black ones. 

I promised to WEAR them!

my shoes were similar to these but mine were brown

The answer was no. I had to wear lace up boots. I had to wear shoes the doctor ordered, heavy, sturdy, lace up, high top, support-and-correct-the-ankles-and feet, leather shoes. AND they were brown!

I didn't hate Vicky - but I thought about it. I did marvel that any individual could have so much (she even got dance lessons too) and could seemingly be unaware of how special she was. 

It isn't just shoes. I love shoes and boots as a fashion accessory and wear them when I dress to go out but my feet LIKE to breathe. I sleep with them uncovered. If my feet are covered I am sick or it is extremely cold.

After a fall and subsequent lengthy rehabilitation from a severely fractured tibia and fibula I began to experience back pain. Doctors discovered one leg was 3/4" shorter than the other. I needed orthotic shoes that were built to fit me and I needed to wear them - always! 

I have tried - really I have. Pain is a great motivation (as is their huge cost) but I still often spend my days at home barefoot. There are many ways to balance the need to support my back and keep it aligned AND be barefoot. I may have tried them all.

You don't usually notice my lift but I do. This type of shoe is heavy and not very flexible but it serves its purpose. My back is not contorted and functions mostly pain free.  I can walk. I am grateful to be able to walk but I do miss skiing and many other athletic activities almost as much as light flexible runners and cute 6 inch heels, (sometimes in red patent or purple suede). 

One day at church two younger men, in very nice suits, sitting just behind me were laughing at my 'granny' shoes and mocking them. I thought about that. My feelings would have been less raw if my shoes had been foolish or extravagant! Who were they to point and mock? That was a turning point for me.  I stopped hating my own shoes. I pay more for my shoes and my comfort and mobility than those men will ever pay for shoes, or comfort, and I genuinely hope they never have to endure immobility.

My parents taught me to never be ashamed of myself - by never doing anything to be ashamed of - or if I did something foolish or embarrassing, that I should make better choices and leave the past in the past. Guilt and shame are indications that I need to make changes in my choices and if I don't need to make a change then I don't need to feel either guilt or shame. They also taught me that I can be proud of good choices. If I learn to make those good choices by being silly and then correcting that silliness I am still able to feel right about making the choice to change.

It is said that as we age we revisit our childhood.  I have become more resistant to wearing my shoes.  I have had 'lifts' built onto flip-flops and sandals and even dance shoes. I love to dance, even though doing so has had new limits since my accident. Dancing motivates me to maintain mobility more than bike riding.

And as we age, sometimes, we become more humble and teachable - we hope - and we adapt; we learn and we can even have cold feet. I realize I can decide to love wearing shoes as easily as deciding to never be ashamed of who and what I am.

Today I am working at my computer with shoes on; shoes that prevent pain; shoes that are on my feet by choice. I choose to wear them and I choose to like wearing them.

Sometimes. 

I do, at least, like the results of wearing them.

I can choose.

What can you choose?

TODAY

               General Conference
                           of
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints

Hear prophets speak:

click HERE 
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A DOZEN

Campbell, you have cousins by the dozens and now you are a dozen years old. Being twelve had extra priveleges and extra responsibilities at our house.

At 12 our kids were finally allowed to legally babysit and get paid for doing so. My children, both boys and girls, often were paid to care for people's children for a few hours.  Of course that also meant they got to be blamed if they did not do their job the way the children's parents expected them to do it or if the kids got into mischief. And sometimes they helped out parent's without pay - just to be kind.

Your dad often took his younger brothers to play ball or on a bike ride or to the park. They still talk about all the fun things he did with them.  They both learned to love art when he let them use his special paints, and crayons and art tools with him.

When you were younger I was a bit disappointed that you looked so much like your mother's side of the family.

Later you looked almost like a twin of your father.

Who you look like doesn't matter nearly as much as who you act like.  Now that you are 12 that is an additional and important thing for you to remember.  Always remember that you are one of God's sons - even more so than you are the son of your father and mother.

You can be like your dad in some ways and like your mother in other ways and not even realize how much like them you are.  I think we may not realize how much like Heavenly Father we are.  You ARE his child. You can always choose to become more like your Heavenly Father. Jesus Christ, another son of God, set an example of how to become more like our Father in Heaven. Your mother and father are both kind people. They try to be kind to everyone around them just like Jesus was.

I love the Primary song, 'Kindness Begins With Me'. Your father was always a kind boy to everyone around him.  Although he loved to tease his siblings he learned to not tease in unkind ways.

Now that you are a young man you will no longer attend Primary. It is time for you to begin 'Young Men's' and learn many new things and have many new responsibilities - more privileges and more fun.

Your father near age 12
(does he still make his ears flap?)

It is a privilege to be ordained to the priesthood and to be able to begin to serve God's children the way Jesus did. You will seldom have more genuine fun than when you serve others. I hope you follow your father's example in these good things.

I also hope you have a very memorable and happy day on this terrific twelfth birthday.

MISMATCH

Our cutlery drawer has a variety of styles and patterns.

At least twice I've gotten new, matching sets but somehow the 'camp' stuff and the new stuff and 'where-did-THAT-come-from' stuff get mixed all together and the SETS are no where to be found - not anywhere!

I never have been able to figure out where these things go.  (Maybe the spoons jilted the dishes and ran away with the socks and mittens because those always seem to have plenty of mismatched miss-mates also.)

NO PROBLEM though.
Sometimes I even like it that way.

In some ways families can be 'mismatched' too.

That is OK.  None of us is exactly the same as any other, and if we start out similar after a while one of us gets worn or bent a bit differently.

I really love the left fork of these three. It is narrow enough, and the tines are short enough, that it fits in my mouth, and it is pointy enough to actually able to be poked into a bite of food without excessive force.

Which fork do you think my husband picks when he sets the table?

 How did you guess?

He prefers the llloooonnngg blunt thing on the right that has such blocky tines that it has to be hammered into your food and is so heavy that it easily smashes anything you are eating into submission - if you can lift it.  I don't much like smashed food. And having it almost as long as my fore-arm means it is awkward for me to manipulate.

Knives are the same way
but I don't have to use them
to put food in my mouth.

I do cut things into
pieces with them.

Can you guess which
table knife I prefer?

I like a balanced handle
with enough weight to
give my chop or cut some
oommphh, but not a lot of
blade - I do have short arms.

Spoons are a category all to themselves.  Bowls on spoons must have almost as many configurations as there are silverware patterns: flat, deep, round, wide, shallow, pointy - and I haven't even talked about the curves or handles yet!

How do you use your spoon?

Does it irritate or appease you every time you lift it to you mouth? When it contains food will it fit into your mouth - no silly - not all of it, but at least the tip or side of it? Will it hold soup? or fruit juice? and can it dig frozen yogurt? (that you only intended to get really cold but left in the freezer for 2 days).

 A spoon should be able to scoop and pour but when I lick it I don't want it to be so deep that my tongue needs to be used like a spatula - maybe I have a short tongue too - how would one know? Surely you have eaten with such spoons too.

And now I will start about handles. It should not be so pointy that a child can hurt them self during dinner. It should not be so heavy that a lady can't graceful lift it or so ornate that highly trained servants are required to keep it clean.

Thankfully people are as unique as utensils. When I set the table I put 'my' utensils by my plate and 'his' utensils by his plate - and we enjoy our dinner.  There are only the two of us. Our nest is empty - usually!  But if I invite you over you may have to suffer the punishment of cutlery that does not match - either you or itself.

If you would prefer a different piece just let me know.
The drawer has lots of choices.

And so does our family.
We have lots of opinions.
Opinions come in all sizes and shapes.
Some are preferred by one and some by another.

Isn't it nice to enjoy being a family anyway?

But someday, SOME day, I wish to own perfect flatware,
and have no mismatched miss-mates.

Such a thing exists in my mind: not too large or small, not too wide or narrow, not too deep or shallow, not too long or short, not too heavy or too light, not too ornate or simple, and definitely not too expensive - is that too much to ask?

And we BOTH have to like it!
If I am wishing I might as well wish good!

Since I am wishing I think I will wish for family unity too.
A family that enjoys being together.

And we all will like it!

That is not too much to wish for ...
or pray for.

TEETER TOTTER

About 5 years ago we spent some time on a playground with some of our grandsons. One of them has a birthday this week. Time has warped. How can I be wishing a Happy 12th Birthday to Jaidon? To me he has always seemed like the boy with a smile that quietly just helps everyone around him. I hope that NEVER changes.

Now he is not a boy.
He is becoming a wonderful young man.

Life can move so quickly that we can feel out of focus,
or almost invisible.

I had lots of fun on the playgrounds of my past AND learned many life lessons. From the teeter-totters (and other activities) I learned a lot about trust, and fair play. And that we all have more fun when we keep a good balance - not up in the air too much or down too low for too long. Balance helps maintain safe fun and prevent problems.

My elementary school had a super-size slide that only the big kids were allowed to slide down. There were other smaller, less taboo slides too. How big was big? I don't know - I wasn't. Did you ever feel like you just didn't fit? Were never ___________ enough?

 That said, I am glad I am not the child that later fell from the top and was permanently brain injured which sadness caused the joy of the long, tall slide to be dismantled. No one would ever be hurt by falling from it again. No one would ever shriek with the thrill of sliding down it either. I have never been sure which was worse - being injured or without so much fun.

Teachers took us out to 'play' in supervised exercise periods. Despite my smaller size I could then safely participate in my favorite activities - the teeter totter and the merry-go-round - because the teacher made sure safety rules were obeyed. I can remember trenches worn so deeply around the merry-go-round and at the 'foot' of each teeter-totter that it affected my ability to get on and off.

There were also big swings and smaller swings. Some kids would pump up really high and then jump off and fly  through the air. Some landed on their feet running and some landed in a heap on the loose gravel that covered the playground area. No one cared about a bit of blood on a scraped knee, elbow or chin and a few tears seemed just a part of life - you got over bumps and lumps and got on with the fun of being outside to play. I thought those kids were silly.  I liked to SWING on swings.  Still do!

My wise parents took us to play there when school was not in session. I learned to slide safely and it was no longer a big deal to me. I stopped wishing for the dangerous thrill.  I learned that it was all about control. (Just push your feet out against the edges to control speed).  And there was no pushing shoving endless line like recess. I only had to compete with my 9 siblings - and dad pushed the merry-go-round and swings.

Teeter-totters fascinated me.

And may fascinate me forever.

 Rhymes we sang still pop into my mind unbidden.
'Teeter-totter, bread and water, ...
The rest of the rhyme had an endless variety of insults or silliness we custom made for each situation.

Notice two of these guys are both ready to jump off and give bumps if not expected.
And the larger boys are playing with balance.

My grandsons showed me that teeter-totters shenanigans have not changed much.

There are still many ways to ride them and get off when needed.

I suspect many good life lessons can still be learned on a teeter-totter.

Neither up nor down is much fun in or of itself.

Mutual cooperation and trust are required. Part of the fun is being alert - trying to predict when you will go up - or down - and for how long.

And balance ... is it possible to keep both ends in the air?

Some kids used the teeter-totters to bully other kids with. I was only allowed to ride them when someone supervised. Often it was a big brother that would agree to do so; then I couldn't be given the bumps too hard or held up in the air for extortion. Often it was a brother on the other end of the teeter-totter. Then I ALWAYS got a few bumps!

Banging down unexpectedly is never fun. It is always important to guard against accidental (or on purpose) bumps. Preventing on purpose bumps, with alert counter-actions, can be part of the give and take but nothing was ever as much fun as a round of steady, back and forth ups and downs - feeling the power of landing and push off; giving control to someone you trust and having it returned in effortless friendship.

Such friendship, in our families and at other times and places, is built with smiles and service - small daily things done so quietly that they are often unnoticed and may be ignored in the blurred hurry of busy existence. Such small daily, constant things bring the greatest joys.

Quiet times bring back focus and clarity. I most often find myself less invisible while in unhurried service, as I allow the things that matter most to eliminate things that obscure and blur what is most important.

Keep smiling Jaidon.
And keep quietly doing small kind things.
That will make a difference -
for you and all around you.

AND BTW - HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

LEMON PEAR PIE

No - I did not make one. 

But I might get to it this week ...

It is that time of year again, harvest and abundance!

I don't even have a picture of a pear pie;

only mouth watering memories.
And I have mixed feelings about pies AND pears.

Last year we did actually manage to put a few in jars -
pears that is, not pies!

My husband first made this for an Elder's Quorum contest.

It was memorable, and delicious.

It is one of our favorites - always with the whole wheat crust. 

Lemon Pear Pie

2 beaten eggs

1 cup sugar     

1 tsp finely shredded lemon peel

¼ cup lemon juice

1 Tablespoon butter

8 large or 12 small fresh pears, sliced or diced OR

   ONE 29 ounce can plus ONE 16 ounce can pear halves, drained and diced

NOTE: I usually cook the lemon mixture and THEN peel, core and chop my pears directly into it. I don't want to have to try to keep the pears from becoming brown and funny looking - and I have only used fresh pears for this recipe.

Pastry for double crust Pie

(nice with whole wheat crust – just substitute wheat flour for white flour)

NOTE: this pie can be very moist, particularly with fresh pears. A lattice crust or one with fancy cutouts produces a ‘buttery’ texture similar to pecan pies. Tarts with decorated tops will also take this texture.

In small saucepan combine the beaten eggs, sugar, lemon peel, lemon juice and butter. Cook slowly over low heat stirring constantly (think ‘lemon pudding’) for 3 to 4 minutes or until thickened and bubbly. Remove from heat and allow to cool - and perhaps even stir it a bit while you make the dough.

Prepare pastry. Fit half into a 9 inch pie plate. Stir pears (I have to add that I just chop them into bite sized chunks) into thickened lemon mixture and pour into pie shell. Cut slits in top crust; adjust. Seal and flute edges. Cover edges with foil strips.

Bake in a 375 degree oven for 20 minutes, remove foil and bake 20 – 25 minutes longer or until the top crust is golden.

HOT BOUQUET

My husband likes unique and different things.
They intrigue him.

I am sure that's one of the reasons he is married to me.

He bought me a 'bouquet' last night.

Maybe he is trying to tell me something ...

(lol) I love this man!
I love this bouquet!

We are a real 'pair'.

GOLD

Gold - a dense, soft, shiny metal - is a chemical element that has monetary, symbolic and practical uses. These combine with its high malleability, ductility, conductivity, and resistance to corrosion (and most other chemical reactions) to make it among the most sought after of treasures.

Pure gold has a bright yellow color which it maintains without oxidizing in air or water. It is insoluble in nitric acid, which dissolves silver and base metals. The practice of using this property to confirm the presence of gold in items gives rise to the term 'acid test'.

I bought some gold this week. 

It was a tiny amount that cost a very few dollars.

inexpensive gold filled bead caps

-

I bought some bead caps that are covered in gold.

I asked my husband to cut them into fragments.

He successfully quartered each one.
I now had lots of 'flakes of gold'. 

I teach Sunday School to 14 year old youth.

I admire them.

This year we are studying the New Testament. We learned, this week, that the book of 2 Corinthians contains prophetic counsel that applies in our day, and Paul's teachings in 2 Corinthians are similar to the teachings we hear in General Conference from prophets now living on the earth.

Henry B. Eyring observed, "when the words of prophets seem repetitive, that should rivet our attention ... Don't discard the counsel but hold it close. If someone you trusted handed you what appeared to be nothing more than sand with the promise that it contained gold, you might wisely hold it in your hand awhile, shaking it gently. Every time I have done that with counsel from a prophet, after a time the gold flakes have begun to appear and I have been grateful." Conference Report, April 1997 Ensign, May 1997 page 26.

-
I got some sand!
I put it in small bags.
I added four gold flakes to each bag.
Four because 2 Corinthians teaches 4 key concepts.

-
I couldn't even see the gold flakes, even when I carefully and slowly shook the bag. To find them again I had to get a sieve and sift the sand looking for them.

M. Russel Ballard gave a conference talk about gold flakes. I downloaded a short video (abt 3.5 min long) of the object lesson that is in his talk and my lesson manual, onto our laptop to show at the first of class. It is great. I love the old prospector. He helps the young man. Close to the end we see him pick up a flake of gold with the tip of his pinky finger. He has become rich one flake at a time.

-
Near the end of class I gave each student a bag of sand.
Its physical value was less than 30 cents.
I attached it to President's Eyring's quote.
Of course I asked lots of questions.
I always ask questions.
And they give answers.
My students know many answers.
They like answers that are short.
I try to keep my answers to less than 10 words.

Why were Paul and Timothy able to avoid despair despite fighting without and fear within? We learned in a previous class (about 1st Corinthians) that Paul knew by personal experience almost every miserable unhappy event that can happen. So how can he constantly be so cheerful?

How can I overcome tribulations, trials and general unhappiness?
  Paul teaches me, 'pray - turn to God and trust him'.

He speaks of 'the weak and beggarly elements" of our lives. Is there anything 'less gold' than an unending round of bitter thoughts and schemes towards those that affront us?

Why should I forgive someone that picks on me and does mean things to me? President Gordon B. Hinckley stated that our homes often are where forgiveness is needed most.

How can I have a loving, safe happy home?

   President Hinckley taught that we should sit down together and speak quietly to each other. Doctrine and Covenants Section 42 teaches me how to live (starting in verse 17) and specifically counsels me how to talk with someone that offends me.

 (verses 88-92)

What does it mean to be sorry? 

   Paul taught that it is internal, a desire in my heart. It means I want to never hurt or make anyone or anything afraid or unhappy.

Can I do that? Really? sincerely?
Become more kind? More gentle?
More loving and forgiving? Every day?
EVERY MINUTE? Always?
How can I become so perfect?
Chapter 13 verse 11 commands me to do so.

Prophets teach that I can become perfect, small choice by small choice, by living perfectly within the knowledge I have, while acquiring more knowledge -sifting for, searching for gold!

Kindness begins with me.

General Conference begins this Saturday.
A broadcast for all women is first.
More broadcasts happen starting 1 October 2011.
Prophets will be speaking.
Access to listen and watch is free.
It is available to anyone anywhere.

Will I find any treasure?
I will be prospecting this weekend, for sure!
And next weekend too.
Looking for gold
What about you?

PRETEND

Pretend you can have anything.

Pretend you can be anyone or anything you want.

It is said that pretending makes it so.

‘As [a person] thinketh in his heart, so is he …’ Proverbs 23:7

If thinking can make it so…

I think I am healthy. 

I have no aches or pains.

I need no pills.

I am happy.

I am rich - I have sufficient in every way.

I expect ….

I like this!

And it does work.
Beware: Pretend works for good or not so good.

My perception shifts just by thinking, saying and writing out such thoughts – whether consciously planning for the pretense to be true or not, thoughts do seem to become action.

As a teen I thought it was hilarious to pretend to smoke.  I didn’t actually smoke but I knew people that did. I didn’t particularly hang out with any of them enough to even really call them friends but we shared a mutual comaradarie that age and school can bestow.

There was a woman, that attended church with my parents, that was a bit of a gossip. We delighted in ‘setting her up’ – giving her things to talk about that were obviously shocking or untrue.  Among the kids I attended school with I was known to be ‘clean’ – no drugs, no tobacco, no booze.

We often left school grounds during lunch hours to wander around the stores and restaurants only 2 or 3 blocks away, just ‘cruising’ the sidewalks and hangin’ out in fluid knots of chatting, laughing groups.    

One day, while standing on a corner in such a knot I noticed Mrs. Gossip, minding her own busy business, coming along the street. One of the kids we had stopped to chat with was lighting a cigarette. “Hey, give me your smoke,” I said and he handed it over. (I did not smoke it. I just held it. It was just pretend and we all knew it - except her.)

When she happened to look up there I was, apparently unaware of her at all, seemingly smoking with my friends. It was such a joke! Everybody my age knew it was funny – we had so many great laughs about it. She took the bait hook, line and sinker.  Of course my parents were much wiser (although I suspect privately amused).

Not quite so funny are the associations cemented to friendships that day, and as we subsequently shared those laughs. I came to love and understand a troubled group of misfits whose later problems included substance abuse, suicide, abortion and some criminal activities.

Let me be clear – I did not at that time start to smoke. 

It was all pretend. 

As an adult I did smoke - for a short time.

It was one of my dumber phases.  

Because of those friends I learned how and where to get cigarettes and shared a lifestyle, when I was with them, of easy access to and expected use of tobacco.

What do you think?

What do you want?

Really.

What do you desire?

What do you pretend?