Not All Excitement is Good

When you live in small town USA you have to drive a ways to get places.  Today took me out of town. On the drive back my dashcam caught some excitement that was not so fun, but I am glad the view was not more exciting.






Frames 2 through 6 all happened in the same second. While I did see something moving in my peripheral vision, I didn’t realize what I was seeing until somewhere between frames 4 and 5.  By frame 6 I could see the deer, that is off-screen, next to my window.

Keep in mind, the view from the camera looks smaller/farther away than my eyes see. (Remember the warning on the side mirrors, “objects in mirror are closer than they appear”? That applies here, too.)

I just hope the car behind me escaped the deer as well.

All is well that ends well. Or something like that.

Musings

Edmund Burke – “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

Ruth Bader Ginsburg – “You can disagree without being disagreeable.”

Spencer Johnson – “Integrity is telling myself the truth. And honesty is telling the truth to other people.”

David A. Bednar – “People of integrity and honesty not only practice what they preach, they are what they preach.”

Highlights of the Day

Since March Marcia and Hinckley have been attending Jiu Jitsu classes over Zoom. Today they had their third (from home) belt testing online. They’ve earned their blue belts! It is a lot of work and they are learning great things.

While they were doing that Corban watched a video in the dining room on an iPad and played with his Mr. Potato Head.  When I checked in on him, I found that he had stuffed his remaining candy from Halloween in the trunk.

On the Eve of an Election

I have these words running through my mind:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” -Declaration of Independence

AND

The vote is precious. It is almost sacred. It is the most powerful non-violent tool we have in a democracy.” -John Lewis

2019 June 21

Mar©ia the younger has written a poem to share with us.

She has asked me to type the poem AND post a picture of the poem so we can see her handwriting.

Here it goes:

Marcia’s Family
I have a dad.
He is glad.
I have a mum.
She is Fun.
Hinckley is my bro.
don’t you know?
Whith corban;
there is no bordom.
Marcia is me.
that makes us 3!

What’s in a name? – Explaining Corban

Last week we were thrilled to welcome Corban Yaroslav Thurman to our family. Here’s an explanation of his names:

Corban

Corban comes from The Bible, in Mark 7:11, where it denotes a gift or offering consecrated to God.

It took us a long time to come up with a name that we both liked. Marcia even went through a whole book of baby names, crossing out the ones that didn’t excite her. When she was done, there were 27 left (Corban was not on that list, by the way).

In our family, we read a chapter of scripture every night. We decided years ago that we were going to read all of the scriptures of our church, one at a time, in a random order. That’s 1581 chapters (yes, that’s a long project). Marcia wrote the names of each chapter (“Genesis 1,” “Alma 32,” etc…) on little slips of paper, and put them in a jar. Each night we selected a random one and read that chapter.

On February 28, 2016, we were down to the final chapter of the project: Mark 7. After we read verse 11, Marcia asked “What do you think of the name “Corban?” And thus he was named.

A note on pronunciation: We’re aware that the Sephardi Hebrew pronunciation often used by Christian scholars when reading Hebrew words in The Bible puts the accent on the last syllable: kawrbahn. This is not fully agreed upon, however. Ashkanizi Hebrew favored by some Jewish practices, and common English usage as well, put the accent on the first syllable: kawrbahn. We like the sound of the first syllable accent better, so that’s how we pronounce his name.

Yaroslav

Jacob spent about 2 years in Russia as a missionary. He lived and did missionary work in the Russian and Belarussian cities of Khimki, Moscow, Minsk, and finally, Yaroslavl.

Yaroslavl was founded in 1010 by a Russian prince named “Yaroslav the Wise.” Legend has it that Yaroslav killed a bear with a spear on the shore of the Volga river, and founded the city on that site.

Marcia was exploring some of her family history a few months ago, and discovered that the same “Yaroslav the Wise” is one of her ancestors. In fact, he’s TWO of her ancestors. On her mother’s side, Yaroslav the Wise is her 49th great grandfather. On her father’s side, Yaroslav the Wise is her 28th great grandfather (yes, that makes her parents 28th cousins 21 times removed).

Yaroslav was actually chosen as Corban’s middle name a long time before his first name was chosen. We like that it’s a family name for Marcia, and a personal connection for Jacob.

Thurman

Thurman is an English name derived from an old Norse name composed of “Thor” (Norse God of Thunder) and “Mundr” (Protection). We did not choose this name for Corban, he just got lucky.

Someone forgot to tell the pickleciples not to make the pregnant lady angry

Disclaimer:  While I do not want anyone to be offended by my use of this long word, “pickleciple” is my word to replace the swear words I will not allow myself to say in front of children.  And should a certain individual find himself crossing my path again (okay there may be a second individual also) with no children present, he might get to discover just how many words this replaces.  Also, I am apparently horrible with paragraph structuring!

Now that you all know my personal “swear word” I will get on with the story.

 

Today is the University homecoming game and this morning was the parade.  The parade was scheduled to begin at 10:30 in the middle of town, and the parade route was probably no more than two miles long.  We placed ourselves towards the end.  My brother Ricky and his family live close to there, so he said we could park at his place and all walk together to the parade and get a spot.  We found a spot next to a telephone pole about 10 till 10 and made sure we were not blocking anyone behind us since we had two strollers.  We locked the tires and waited for the start.  We were there over an hour before the starting cars arrived, and the kids were doing well.  A few minutes, no more than 10, before the parade reached us, a few families arrived and crowded near.  This would have been okay if there had been room, however, in the space where one adult and one child would fit (1 ½ -2 feet wide) if the kid was standing in front/sitting on the lap of the adult, they tried to cram in six adults and 5 kids.  One woman, I will call her “Hedwiga” because it will be easier to give her a name to reference and it means “warfare”, tried to push and move my stroller over, and I made it clear that that was not going to happen, and she then proceeded to stand on the blanket of the people just on the other side of the “gap.”  In hindsight, I probably should have not left any gap there, or I should have sat down next to the stroller, which was my original intention until she crowded her way in there….  Anydangways, it was her intent to force someone who came early to give up a good spot one way or another.  And the blanket sitters (they will be known as the Blankets/Blanket family) had arrived even before we did, even more reason they should not have to move either!  Well, I didn’t hear or see if the Blankets had said anything, but Hedwiga got off the blanket and proceeded to lean against my stroller again.  So I reached and adjusted the handle on the stroller requiring her to stop leaning against it.  She gave mee the stink-eye for that.  Well, the lead cars came by and lots of kids appeared out of nowhere.  Originally they were not right in front of us, until Hedwiga told her daughter to stand in front of us and then, the male henceforth known as “Wolfgang” and means “wolf quarrel”, sent his two daughters up to stand in front too.  The girls put themselves right in front of the stroller where sat the not quite two-year-old.  I said, “girls would you please not stand right in front of the little girl, she cannot see the parade.”  I was ignored.  Then a few minutes later the university band stops and performs there, and again/still the girls are right in front of the stroller.  Fortunately there was a break where Munchkin could see a baton twirler dance, so she cheered and seemed okay, however the rest of the time we were there (we left early-I’ll get to that) because of the location of the only break in people in her way, all she could see was the backs of people in the parade as they walked by, or the butt of Hedwiga.  I took a picture that shows her, yes the adult, standing in front of the stroller; I have decided not to post that picture on here.  So, as the university band is trying to tell people to get out of the street so the band can march the parade, I again said, “please do not stand in front of the little kids, they cannot see the people in the parade.”  No acknowledgement from those around us.  There were a few floats that came by, Cute Monster didn’t get to see them, or get any candy from them…2 reasons 1-it is the end of the parade, so there is little to no candy left to toss (which is fine with mee because I don’t really want to take it home) 2-the bigger kids were blocking the way and took any candy that managed to make it to the end of the parade.  I saw that the high school band was coming soon, and wanted Mar©ia to be able to see her dad since we actually knew where to tell him to look, so again I said, “girls she cannot see the parade, will you please not stand in front of her stroller?”  This time the girls looked back to acknowledge they heard, but turned around and stayed put in front of us.  So, I mentioned that that was the third time I had asked and I was really getting tired of people standing in front of people smaller than them.  Hedwiga said that I should let her out of there so she can go up front, at this point the “front” is a third of the way into the street, clearly in the path of the parade floats and certainly in the way of bands or dancers or others walking in the parade.  So, I did not bite my tongue and said, “maybe you should control your kids.”  I perhaps could have bitten my tongue, but it really makes me mad when going to public events where kids are invited/encouraged to attend and there is a lack of common sense, especially when it is coming from adults.  (Why on Earth would I want to let my almost two-year-old run loose at a parade?  And what about not standing right in front of someone shorter than you when the event is a pick your own spot kind of a deal?  And why would someone want to teach their kids to behave like that?)  One of the women with Wolfgang, not sure if his wife or from the third couple, asked, “Did she just say that?”  I turned around and said, “Yes, I did.  We got her early and have waited a long time for the parade, and it really makes mee mad that people think it is okay to stand in front of little kids.”  So, Wolfgang called his girls back and told them to sit on a blanket that he put down right behind our stroller, and that they had to sit there, where he promptly  stood in front of them, with his son on his shoulders.  I turned and told them all I was asking was that they not stand in front of the littler kids and they are just fine standing next to the stroller, just not in front of it.  They wanted the girls to be martyrs and wouldn’t let them go down there.  While I do indeed feel really bad for the girls having adults like that in their lives, I was glad that for the first time Munchkin got to see her dad in the parade!  Sadly though, the camera was too slow and I didn’t see that it was not recording when I pushed the button.  A few minutes after that Wolfgang taps mee on the shoulder and asked if my daughter could “see the parade now?”, I told him, “no, because people are standing in front of her again.”  But he was not listening, he continued with “because I just want you to know that you have ruined this parade for them.  Look!”  I turned around to see one girl still sitting there with her face in her hands, which I admit made my heart ache, then when I noticed that he was standing in front of her still, I just became more angry.  Who in the right mind tells their own child to sit where they cannot watch a parade?  No one in their right mind would do that!  It is one thing to try to bully an adult so you can get your way (not acceptable by any means) but the pickleciple head is a bully to his own child!  So infuriating.  At this point I am so mad that I can’t think of anything to say to the pickleciple that didn’t involve swearing in front of my child or any of the children nearby, so I stopped talking or responding to Wolfgang, who was not listening because he was more concerned with being “right.”  That combined with the fact that Mar©ia can’t see any of the parade, I was fed up.  I was done.  So, I made sure she was buckled into the stroller, unlocked the tires and Turned around to tell him, “I’m leaving.”  He responded, “Good, you don’t belong here anyway.”  Again, I failed to bite my tongue and told him he was being a jerk.   I guess I did bite my tongue because what I really wanted to call him was a pickleciple!  I was so mad!  And the pickleciple Wolfgang had better hope I never run into him without any children around, because he might just get to hear exactly what I would have liked to have said to him.  And while I wanted to yell at him and tell him what a pickleciple he was being, what I did do was walk away crying.  Because you know when you make a pregnant lady angry, those are the two options.

Rick and Ginny were there after we left, and as I walked away I just hoped that Wolfgang did not choose to then talk to them the way he was talking to mee.  And I hoped that he would at least let his daughters get up and watch the parade.  What a pickleciple bully!

 

On the other side of humanity there was a young man walking the same way we were headed and he said “Hi” to the Cute Monster and after she responded in kind, he told her how “gorgeous” she is.  That restored a little bit of my hope for humanity. 

Not all people are pickleciples, but it is experiences like today’s parade audience that remind mee why I avoid public places most of the time.

Once upon a time

We went to the store this evening, yet again.  They did not have what we were looking for, yet again.  So we will have to order it off the internet, yet again.

Anydangways, on our way home there were some spots of cool fog.  And that got mee to thinking about how we often refer to “dense fog.”  That got mee to thinking about the word “dense.”  When I was younger I used to think it meant “light,” “airy,” or “fluffy.”  So then when someone would give mee bread or cake to try and call it “dense” I assumed it would have the consistency of angel-food cake.  I was confused by it being more like pound cake instead.  I do not remember when I finally understood, probably a science class when talking about mass, or maybe a social studies class when talking about population.  In any case I figured it out.  Some people may wonder why I misunderstood the word in the first place.  This is why.  I often heard some individuals called “dense.”  These are the same people I heard called “air-heads.”  So in my young-brain-logic, dense=full of air.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

*Okay, so “often” could have been only once or twice for all we know, then again it could have been everyday.  (Un)fortunately, I do not remember who was called this or by whom, I just remember hearing it.

 

And just for fun, here is a picture, or two, of an amazing little girl typing the text after the picture.

 

YHGJGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG6

TTJHY555sgsssssssssssssssssssssssccdwdqsss7444nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnjghbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb+

633.

3…

020789.89+.66

3

 

nj

k,o,o,o,o,o,o,o,o,o

 

+++52525252521*99*9*2jhihhhhhhhhhh  hhhhhnnn77777,,,,,jkukun jnjjjjo6yygjujynfg0 .236663666666666 vc’ c[vbccv999999999999999999999999999ui

96.

2.

Many things on my mind

One of the biggest right now has to do with online interactions.  Specifically the category of cyber bulling.

I know the first thing that comes to my mind when I hear that term is teenagers.  But I am here to remind us all that it is not just teens that are on the receiving end of this bad behavior.  There are many adults who participate.  Both those who bully and those who are bullied.

I would like to extend this invitation to everyone:  Please do not bully.  Not in virtual reality, not in real-life reality either.

Let us just get along.  If you do not wish to interact with an individual, just do not do it.  There is no need or benefit in going up to them and specifically ignoring them, or acting like they do not exist.  When a person is standing next to you and you believe they do not exist, does that mean you do not exist either?  Likewise, going into a person’s space on the internet (even if it is simply where the person may see it) and talking about them, or saying rude things to them is bullying.  Do not do it! 

Public versus private.  If you are planning or simply talking about private events, do it privately!  Or in the least do not be offended when “public” people ask for details because it looks like a fun thing. *

I believe one of the biggest reasons people do this on the internet is they don’t see it as real.  People who if you asked them in person if they are a bully would tell you they are not.  In person they probably would not perform the actions that hurt.  Why then does s/he feel differently about typing bullying words?  I do not know the reason, nor do I want to dwell on that, I am tired of trying to find out. 

This is why my online presence has been very scarce for the last months.  Do not ask details, I will not share names, I likely will not even tell the story with names changed.  This is part of my resolve to choose to not be offended any more.  And, yes, I do recognize that being offended is a choice; even if a person intends to offend mee I still can choose not to be offended.  I am human and probably will find offense at times, but I am working on decreasing this occurrence.

Just let’s remember what we do online is the same as going into another person’s home and saying/doing these things.  It stirs the same feelings in your own self.  The biggest difference is that in person, you can use body language and tone of voice.  When a person reads a message, it is open to interpretation based on what mood they are in, health, what they were just doing, etc.  Personally I do not like feeling like a “friend” has come to my home and started being rude, It would make mee want to kick them out.  So essentially that is what happened, I logged out and kicked them out of my personal space. 

Then, one day I was talking to a friend, she noticed I had not been online in a while (we were talking about facebook specifically) and asked if I was okay.  This is a real friend.  In the course of the conversation she asked if I missed it.  I understood the question to be about missing facebook.  I said that honestly no I do not.  As I have reflected on that conversation it occurs to mee that perhaps she was asking if I missed people.  I suddenly realized that while I kicked out the bullies, I also kicked out the not-bullies.  And I found that I missed out on a lot of great things.  (Things that I would know if I were “present” in the conversations.  I know some people have sent mee info/messages on facebook.  I know because you have told mee to go look and reply.  Slowly I think I will get to them.) So do I miss facebook?  Not necessarily.

Do I miss people?  Yes!  The positive ones.  Those who uplift, and bring a smile to my face.  I miss the fun conversations that I am sure have taken place among my siblings and cousins.  I miss being able to laugh with friends when they laugh or being able to shed a tear when a friend relates bad news.  The years and miles have separated many people.  The internet offers to be a gap connector.  Though the distance is great, we can enter each other’s’ homes and share our lives.  That is why I still have hope.

So, If you are worried that you are a bully, step back read what you type (listen to what you say) and think about how that would sound/feel if directed at (or excluded) you.  Only you can know your intentions.  If you can better/more clearly/less offensively state something, try.  Let us all work together to become a better society.  I know we can do it together.

 

* This brings up another point:  Stop whining because “Amy” and “Sally” are friends and hang out.  If you want to do things with Amy, invite her to get together, instead of crying because she invited Sally.  Do you want a friend that only whines and tries to make you feel bad?  I most certainly do not, I cannot think of anyone who does.  And even if a person does want that, do you really want to choose that kind of negativity for your life, or your family’s life?  I do not.

Friends are good to have.  They are great to have.  We can learn from each other.  We can have fun together.  And people can have friends that are other people.  Just because I enjoy walking with one friend and cooking with another, does not mean I can’t do something else with yet another person.  No one can be everybody’s everything.