For an Easter Monday

"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.

In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer;

I have overcome the world."

-John 16:33

Lucky number 5

{Here is me and my sweet babe. Who is wonderful and sweet. And about whom I wrote a post and then deleted it because the editor in me thought it wasn't ready yet. But I left up the pictures. Because he is cute. So dang cute. The pictures are not high quality. They were taken with my computer.}

He doesn't need make-up, but I think I could use some...
Bonus pict. Serious me. Checking out my long hair and my profile. Don't mess with this chick y'all. {ha!}

The End.

The old man is snoring.

It's raining today. Maybe we'll have thunderstorms this afternoon! I am a fan of thunderstorms. I much prefer them to roller coasters. And the rain will be good for my allergies now. Not so good later (more water = more tree growth = more pollen = sad Allysha).

I'm thinking, with all of the cleaning, organizing and home improvement projects I need/would like to get done, I should study up on my Calvin and Hobbes and then clone myself for an afternoon. Or a week.

But my baby is crying now, having woken up from his nap. So I must go to his rescue. Ta tah!

tickled {a.k.a. you probably had to be there}

Every once in a while one of my {many} brothers or sisters will say something that I just love. Because it's funny. Because it's witty. Because it captures them in some way and then that little bit of their personality is encapsulated in my mind forever, like a little flag that I take out every once in a while so I can wave it around and smile about it. They are silly mementoes that I hold close to my heart to keep me happy.

Three come to mind readily at the moment:

The first is my sister Kimberly's comment{on this blog} about the basketball season being over. I love it because as soon as I read it I could hear her saying it. And I felt the exact same way.

"I already miss those days...I missed those days the moment the last game ended." Sometimes I pull up the blog to read that comment so that I can feel the camaraderie. {Is that pathetic commentary on me? Discuss amongst yourselves.}

The second is from my sister Natalie. We must have been talking about wardrobe or haircuts or being social {or not being social, as the case often is in my family} because the topic somehow came about that she would wear hoodies, with the hood up, constantly when she went back up to college so that she wouldn't have to encounter anybody. And in her voice full of her dry wit, Natalie said something like "Yeah, that's me. The Boo Radley of BYU-Idaho." You probably have to know Natalie to know why this tickles me so much. And maybe you had to be there. I was there and trust me, it was funny.

Lastly was a conversation between my brother, Nith, and many of my siblings. Nith was discussion his complicated social life and was telling a story of running into some girl, but having to, or possibly deliberately, cutting short their conversation by saying "Um, my party's over there." At which point my other brother, Lincoln, picked up that line and turned it into a dance/rap tune. "My party's over there. My party's over there. You're party's over here..." and he did a little dance around the small living room and everybody laughed.

These are small things. But I find that I take great comfort in small things. This post is to remind me. I have to smile.

cathartic

Do you know what is really great?

Listening to Puccini's "Nessun Dorma" really, really loud. Seriously loud.

That is really great.

{There are several versions that would work. I actually really like Sarah Brightman's rendition from her cd Classics. Sarah is good, and the chorus is fantastic.}

The music gets right inside you and stirs you around. Rather like looking at the Aurora Borealis.

If you are tired or disappointed about something or if somebody hurt your feelings and you need to have a good cry, for whatever reason, I highly recommend it. At a certain point in the music everything just spills over. It can't be helped.

I am listening to Nessun Dorma right now.

Simplify, simplify.

Those two words constitute a quote by the one, the only Henry David Thoreau. Actually, there are probably other Henry Davids out there and more power to them. I am in the mood to simplify and get rid of things and have what remains stacked and organized. The whole "a place for everything and everything in it's place" bit. I may have mentioned this before, but it would be just a tad easier for me to simplify if I, like Thoreau, had my mother come over to do my laundry. She has enough of her own laundry though, so essentially it's up to me to get the laundry done and to simplify, simplify. Maybe Thoreau would like to come over and help me with laundry, because he is undoubtedly wandering around some sort of laundry purgatory, and needing to do a good deed, or several loads, to get out. Well, maybe he isn't and his mother offered to do his laundry out of the goodness of her heart, because Henry's need to live deliberately was taking a toll on his wardrobe and she just wanted to do something about it. I can see that as a legitimate scenario. In my case, living deliberately and simplifying involve laundry.

Anyway, it's time for me to do some cleaning, etc. It must be Spring.