Millennium Falcon

We’ve just had the most vexing day — very vexing indeed.

No, I haven’t just woken up from a coma or sustained a  head injury causing me to speak like a 19th century heroine. I have no desire to give you affright, chastise ne’er do wells for being  beef-witted blackguards, drink from a stoup, or give a concert on my pianoforte. But, as is our wont to make you ware of our sundry and varied exploits, I will share our most VEXing experience.

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Karate Kicks Butt

Is it weird that for Mother’s Day I considered asking for a butt cushion? We have a chiropractor in our ward and I’ve seen his family bring a silicone pad to church that makes the cold, hard, metal chairs more ergonomically correct. I for one, never thought I’d covet one of those. I’d never be an old person dragging my own fold up seat cushions to church or stadium sporting events, but then Gerrit discovered karate.

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Shannon’s Fa La La La Folly

If Eric asks me what I want for Christmas, my standard answers are a pony and a diamond tiara. Now, I really do have a few heart’s desires, but in my adult brain I’ve rationalized cost, practicality, and maybe I haven’t really been that good of a little girl. If I don’t specifically ask for them, I won’t feel embarrassed for sharing my secret needs.

Afton is six and knows if you have a heart’s desire you have tell your mom, dad, school teacher and Santa. She doesn’t think about cost per wear, financial priorities, or considerations of space and practicality. If you asked Afton what she wanted for Christmas this year, she would tell you that her heart’s desire was a car to play in… with doors.

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A Grand New Baby

Do inanimate objects have spirit or life? I think at first blush the question makes me sound crazy. Doesn’t the term inanimate – no life – sum it all up? I just wonder, if things really are no-life, why does using my Grandma Pugsley’s soft green china on my Thanksgiving table give me such pleasure? I mean the dinner plates are significantly smaller than more modern styles, and these plates certainly aren’t dishwasher safe. I grew up far away from my grandparents, so although I never saw Grandma Pugsley’s table beautifully set, my parents did send me out one summer when I was 12 to visit Grandma Opal. She taught me to eat avocado on toast. Using that no-life, inanimate china, that I was told Granma bought with redeemed war coupons, makes me feel connected to her life.
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A Letter to Dad

Dear Dad,

As a parent myself, I have honestly said that some of my favorite gifts to receive are the one-of-a-kind, homemade, glue, love, and macaroni encrusted works of art.

I don’t think macaroni emails very well and I’m pretty sure this doesn’t qualify as art, but here is my homemade gift just for you—and everyone else who has nothing better to do on Christmas Eve.

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Tanks for the Memories

“How long has this been there?”

Eric looked quizzically at me in response and then his eyes zeroed in on the whitish ring adorning the left side of my pewter blue jacket, the one I always feel very stylish and trendy when I wear. He said all he knew for sure was that it wasn’t there before we’d left for church that morning—at least for a few minutes I was child debris free, but beyond that he couldn’t be sure.

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Bowling for Knowledge

Who was the first territorial governor of Utah? What cities did the pony express run between? Who was the sculptor of the Statue of Liberty? What year was the Statue of Liberty given to the United States? Where is said Statue located?

If you can answer these questions without the aid of an internet search engine you might belong on one of Eaglecrest’s Knowledge bowl teams. If you answered the above questions without breathing—in or out, blinking, or swallowing then you probably belong on the Bonneville team.

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