A homemade Christmas

I love homemade gifts. I wish I could be more creative and make them (or rather, have more time...) but this year David and I received some AMAZING homemade gifts that I want to share with you all. 

Don't these chocolates look amazing? And they were hand-dipped by David's family. Not only do they look good, but they taste great too. One day I hope to join in the festivities. Candy dipping is traditionally done the week of Thanksgiving. 

These ornaments were made by my Sister, Abby. She punched the hole for the string and glittered them all by herself. What a creative gift! I love them! They'll hang on our tree for many Christmas' to come. 

Now, this I am told was a labor of love. David's sister, Julie made these. There is no way our hands will burn. It's double sided on both sides. She's amazing--I don't think I would have the patience for this. 

This vase was carved by my brother, Travis, in his Woodcarving class at school. He gave every member of our family something he carved. 

This amazing flower is made of Duck Tape. I can't wait to wear it to school. David's Sister, Melanie made it. 

I don't do it much anymore, but I love giving homemade gifts. The spirit of giving and love often seems more abundant with homemade gifts. Anyone who knows me well knows how much I love giving gifts. When I was younger (even up until the age of 13 or 14) I would sometimes make or buy 3 or even 4 gifts for my family. They would be small and mostly homemade, but it gave me such great joy. 

I remember one time when I was 12 or so I wanted to make my mom homemade soap or some type of homemade smelly thing. I soon became aware that one does not simply make soap. So I squeezed my creative juices together and came up with a plan. I would painstakingly shave off pieces of several individual soaps and mix it together with lotion and various other smelly stuff (I believe I experimented with perfume and flower petals.) I then proceeded to form the soap into cute balls. 

My mom was surprised to say the least. 

And slightly alarmed. 

A slight detour

It all started on our way back from Greeley Colorado where we were spending New Years with David's family. We were on 287 about 20 minutes outside of Fort Collins when we lost 5th gear. Eeks. I have a '89 manuel Honda Civic SI. It made this odd grinding sound and suddenly the RPMs shot up as if we were driving in 4th gear. Well, low and behold the same thing happened to 4th gear. By that time we had stopped and called a handy mechanic called "Dad." We did some trouble shooting and it was obviously determined that it was the transmission. So. What were we going to do. Huh. Whose heard of a manuel losing it's transmission?

At first it was quit fun! We were in a horse drawn wagon that had just lost one of its two horses. We could drive, albiet slowly. My dad said that the best thing we could do is get as far as we could--hopefully to Laramie-- and there my Dad would pick us up. That came as quite a surprise, especially considering the car was coming with us on a trailer. Our job now was to get to Larmie (in third gear) and hold tight until my Dad arrived.

Our spirits were high as we putted along with our flashers on. We could tell our transmission was getting worse, however. It would occasionally slip into neutral/second gear on its own and by the time we were in Laramie it was quite frequent. We knew we were quickly losing third. When we got to Laramie our first job was to find a place to bunk out for the next 7 hours. My mom suggested a mall...but noooooo... there are no malls in Laramie. I thought an LDS church would be quite pleasant, but by the time we found it, I forgot to take into consideration that it was unlikely someone would be in it. We had the bishops phone numbers, but...I didn't want to take that route. Our plan was also foiled by the fact that I REALLY had to go to the bathroom.

So then we went to KMART and explored its small stock of supplies. Next, to pass the time we went to a the bookstore next door. After an hour or so of browsing and reading, however, I could not stand the Arctic temperatures inside and so we proceeded on our journey. It was colder in there than in our car. We determined to go to Walmart and hang out there. On our way we came across the University of Wyoming's Institute building, but it was locked. Darn.

All of that took a good chunk of time and we spent the rest of the 3 or so hours haunting Walmart's aisles and watching their TVs. (Strangely enough they had one TV going with an awesome nature show which we watched for 45 minutes. Several employees commented on us...but not to the extent of "stop." We also determined what colors our house were going to be: dark beige for the kitchen, dark gold for the living room and red for the library. We justified out loitering by having a basket containing 2 pasta boxes.

About to get onto the trailer

Soon we grew bored (obviously....but we're talking on the point of tears) and we went back out to our freeeeeezing car. By the time my dad got there it was 4 degrees with a wind chill of much less than that...we're talking a 15 or so mile an hour wind. When we got out to starting hitching our car and transferring the necessary goods to my dad's car it took me 1 minute to get a frostbite on my thumb. David got one on his ear. The small amount of time I was outside--in a Columbia winter coat, no less--was enough time for me to shiver uncontrollably. It HURT. Laramie is COLD. Forget Provo. 25 degrees is balmy comparatively.

My poor car

Once we got everything hooked up it was 9:00 PM when we left the Laramie Walmart. I wasn't sad to say goodbye. Afterall, I think I spent enough time in Laramie to last a lifetime. What else is left to explore? To make things short, it was a miracle we got back in one piece. My dad said there was a 50:50 chance we would spin off the road. We went through three blizzards where we couldn't even see the road with winds blowing at 55 miles an hour. The only way we could navigate were the road markers lighted by our headlights. It took us more than 8 hours to make it about 400 miles. At one point my dad said his job was to keep control of the car and it was David's to keep track of mile markers so if we did spin of we would know where we were and wouldn't have to wait until morning for someone to find us. He told me it was my job to sleep. And to worry. And pray.

Sorry for the bad photos. My fingers wouldn't move, let alone hold up the camera. Here it is hooked up to my Dad's Honda Pilot. 

We finally made it to Provo safe and sound at 4:30. Only now do I believe the horror stories of driving through Wyoming at night during a snow storm.

Prayers work and God is looking out for us.

Oh music--the bane and the love of my life.

This is a post I wrote a week or so ago for Notes about Music Notes I hope you like it. :)

Oh music--the bane and the love of my life.

When I first started the flute it was an absolute joy. It was a game: Can I get out those notes? How high can I go? "Mom, guess what! I played Jingle Bells today at school!" But it slowly transformed into a mountain of stress. How could I capture the pure joy of music I once had in Elementary and Middle School?

I am a music major at a prominent University in Utah Valley...graduate student even. I study flute performance and what a roller coaster it has been.

I started in sixth grade and didn't start private lessons until eight grade. Being the oldest child, my parents didn't "know the ropes." I was rather behind, in comparison with my college colleagues. But I loved the flute and was unaware of my lack of ability. Soon Elementary and Middle School flutists started dropping music for other activities. I emerged as one of the better flutists, but I was never "the best."

Me Junior year of High School. 

In High School it was no different. I auditioned for the top band at my school as a Freshman and didn't make it. Even as a Senior I was never first chair. But this isn't a whine-fest. Even though my musical career was marred with set backs, it was also lined with triumphs--personal triumphs and musical triumphs. I got an "I" at State solo-ensemble as a Freshman and Junior and a "I+" as a Senior. I was in All-State Orchestra twice and traveled with my High School band to Pearl Harbor and Normandy, France. I don't say these things to boast, but these were the turning points that led me to the fulfillment of a dream. It was only because of them that I gained the self-confidence needed for college. But I always had this deep, persistent fear that I wasn't the best.

Me in Normandy, France thanking a Veteran from the 101st Airborn. 

My college career was much the same, marred with set-backs and feelings of failure and with the occasional "personal victory." College was the time of my life where I lost much of my pure and simple love of music. I loved the songs I was playing. I loved the new techniques I was learning as methods of expression, but there was an undercurrent of self-doubt. I was never the "best" so how or why could I continue? I started to get nervous while performing. Flute became a Major more than a love. Of course I still enjoyed playing and performing, but it didn't have the same magic as when I was younger. Where was it? Many times I thought it would be found when I was "the best," or when I was first chair, or when I was in the top orchestra. And it wasn't.

After a Woodwind Chamber night performance with my flute, oboe, piano trio. 

Slowly (and yes, I have miles to go) I am learning that a master's in flute performance or a bachelors or even a successful high school career is not required for music to capture our soul and change it. Now, my love of music can be found in knowing that I am the vehicle through which music can change our souls. I love music and I love performing because music captures emotion which cannot be put into words...in many ways music is the most abstract of all the arts. I don't have to be the best to have this ability. All that is needed is a pure love.

'Twas the Sunday after Christmas

David and I went to my family's ward last Sunday, partially because Abby gave her first-ever sacrament meeting talk. It was really good! But she had to be convinced it was amazing. (Sound familiar?) It's funny how habits like that can start really young. The girl who is more confident than either Kellie or I at anything, the girl who is our little drama queen, and the girl who isn't afraid of answering questions at school or church got absolutely frightened by a little sacrament meeting talk.

Granted, who isn't afraid of your first talk? But I just find the irony interesting. Even a confident (and genuine) exterior may need reassurance. That's why a compliment can mean the world, even if they seem confident.

On another note, there was a very sweet elderly lady at church--the kind that usually wears corsages, especially on special occasions. But her corsage today was rather peculiar. Instead of a lovely poinsettia, or a holly bough, she wore a doll head. Yes, a doll head--just the head. Granted it was a Christmasy-Swiss doll head with lovely greenery around her, but it was still a doll head cut off just below the neck.

And the other day I discovered a white hair on my head. At least it is white and not a dismal gray. I envision my hair being pearly white with no hint of gray. It is long and flowing with a gentle curl. I have great hope.

Merry Christmas All.

An ornamental tradition

I have always loved my family's christmas tree. It's full of handmade ornaments and snowflakes and unique ornaments bought for each child. Now that David and I have formed a family of our own I have taken all of my ornaments and put them on my own tree. Admittedly, it is kind of sad not seeing it on my family's tree, but it is cool seeing David and my Christmas traditions start to bloom. I only have taken pictures of a few of my favorites.

I believe the crochet around the ornament was done by my Grandma Woodfield...or Great Grandmother Carlson. I'm not sure...mom, correct me...

This ornament and the next one have been put up my me for as long as I can remember. It is reminiscent of happy, but frugal days of my parents while they were in Grad school, but I LOVE the homemade aspect of it. 

This ornament was given to me (and one exactly like it to Kellie) when we left Berkeley, California after my Dad graduated. It was to remember all of our happy memories. 

I think this ornament is so clever. I chose this one on one of my family's traditional Myrtle Beach vacations. Each kid has their own Santa-based shell. 

So there was a peek into one of my favorite christmas traditions that I can't wait to continue with David. 

Decorations

Christmas has got to be my FAVORITE time of the year--hands down. No school. It's a chance to recuperate from the high-stress of the semester. It's a chance to eat yummy food. It's a chance to make yummy food. It's a chance to give gifts (forget what I'm getting... I really just love the giving). It's a chance to spend lots of time with family.

There is no better time. And it snowed! David and I went for a walk tonight in a "winter wonderland." We even made a few snow angels. And there are some amazing sculptures out there. In front of one of the apartments in our singles ward was an igloo. YES, an igloo. With a roof and everything. And it wasn't small. Two guys could easily sleep in it. It's on 800 North if you want to check it out.

And per request (My mom and David's mom) here is a peek into our humble christmas decorations. It's kind of strange having a "first christmas as a newlywed." It's great, but here we are, starting our own traditions and gathering our first decorations. I love my mom's decorations and I someday wish to emulate it's magic. You can check out one of her blogs about them here.

I'm excite to see what our family's christmas is like in 5, 10, and 20 years down the road.

David slowly, but surely putting up the lights. Here, I am sure, is the beginning of a long tradition. :) And actually, the lights are a hand-me-down from my parents tree when they were young and spry. 

Putting up the ornaments. Look for a blog on this later...

Sorry the lighting is horrible, but these were a delightful and generous gift from David's mom. It is a nativity from Willow Tree. I love it!

The wooden nativity is childish, yes, but it was something to put up. I got this when I was 8 or so from my Grandmother Woodfield. Kellie has one just like it. The tile on the right was a wedding gift. 

Ah. My Swedish elves. I LOVE these people. I hope to find and acquire more of these someday. See the link to my mom's blog. 

This cute little guy was a gift of my Grandma Stoker when she was on her mission in Germany. 

These stockings are a tradition in David's family. And now I've been inducted! Completely homemade. 

And here is our humble, completed tree. Isn't it cute? It fits perfectly in our little apartment. I love it. :) 

A Missionary

My sister-in-law Amy went into the MTC about a month ago and yes....I am JUST getting around to blog about it. She is (and will be) such an amazing missionary. She has so much enthusiasm and loves the gospel and what better combination is there? She is going to Taiwan Taichung and will be speaking Mandarin! She is already teaching at the MTC in Chinese...and has been since her second week out. Hopefully David and I can send a Christmas/we love you! package.

Isn't she beautiful?

Many of my girl-friends have served missions but for some reason I have never felt that strong desire to go. For those that have served, they have come back even more amazing than they were before. But this doesn't mean that every girl needs to serve a mission. It's completely up to them, and I  have had to learn this for myself. For years I had this itch at the back of my brain that I should have served, but I know now that I shouldn't have. The Lord directs our lives. I probably wouldn't have married David and certain health issues would have made serving as a missionary....well...unpleasant. The Lord needed me elsewhere and sometimes we have to trust our gut (aka follow the spirit) for. (Well, I guess we should do this always).

BUT I can not wait to serve as a missionary with David in our elderly years. I mean, I just want to stand up and yell to the sun "hurry-up!" JK. Life is going to be full of adventures in the meantime. :)

Here is all (ok, some) of Amy's earthly positions all packed away in a little box. How symbolic. 

Here she is getting ready to go! She was Really excited but there was a small amount of trepidation. Naturally. Before she was dropped off we had a delectable lunch at Creamery on Ninth Street Grill. 

Too precious. 

And she's off!

Going! 

Going! 

Gone! 

We love Amy!