Alleluia, Christ is Risen!

Stake Conference on this beautiful Easter morn was truly glorious. I wish I could just transfer everything we heard straight into your heads, but since I can't I'll leave it to those much more capable than I.

He is risen! He is risen!

Tell it out with joyful voice.

He has burst his three days’ prison;

Let the whole wide earth rejoice.

Death is conquered; man is free.

Christ has won the victory.

Come with high and holy hymning;

Chant our Lord’s triumphant lay.

Not one darksome cloud is dimming

Yonder glorious morning ray,

Breaking o’er the purple east,

Symbol of our Easter feast.

He is risen! He is risen!

He hath opened heaven’s gate.

We are free from sin’s dark prison,

Risen to a holier state.

And a brighter Easter beam

On our longing eyes shall stream.

Christ the Lord is ris’n today,

Alleluia!

Sons of men and angels say,

Alleluia!

Raise your joys and triumphs high,

Alleluia!

Sing, ye heav’ns, and earth reply,

Alleluia!

Love’s redeeming work is done,

Alleluia!

Fought the fight, the vict’ry won,

Alleluia!

Jesus’ agony is o’er,

Alleluia!

Darkness veils the earth no more,

Alleluia!

Lives again our glorious King,

Alleluia!

Where, O death, is now thy sting?

Alleluia!

Once he died our souls to save,

Alleluia!

Where thy victory, O grave?

Alleluia!

Happy Easter.

~Carrots

Duties

Assistant Director

Assistant Stage Manager

Costumer

Hair & Makeup Advisor

Choreographer

Consultant

Secretary
Dramaturg

Errand-girl

Props Master

Actress

Four hours in the prop/costume shop yesterday, then three hours of rehearsal. A few hours (so far) this weekend working on props.I should be getting paid for this.

And then of course there's:

Student

and, since my parents are were out of town for the week,

Mom

We spent the day cleaning the house top-to-bottom to prepare for the parents' and grandparents' homecoming. Here I am in my super-attractive "Clean ALL the things!" get-up.

 It's secretly a Rosie the Riveter costume.

Bedtime can't come too soon.

Five Gifts From Our Savior

My mom wrote this beautiful lesson for Christmas Day.

 

We often chide ourselves and our children that Christmas should be about giving, not receiving. Yet all we do is in remembrance and celebration of that perfect gift, delivered to us in a stable in Bethlehem in the meridian of time. All other gifts are dependent on that one, the gift of a Savior; without it agency, mortality, repentance, ordinances, covenants are ineffectual and the Plan of Salvation void.

And so let us open five final gifts. Gifts that fill the smallest newborn heart and the universe. Gifts that light every dark place. Gifts that make this life and eternity possible. Gifts from our Savior. For this is His day.

His Will

In the premortal world, God's firstborn son, Jehovah, gave His will entirely to righteousness. This absolute faith and devotion allowed Him to fully comprehend the Father's plan and made Him both worthy and able to serve as Savior. He sought no honor, no glory, but only to do His Father's will: He consecrated Himself to the Plan and to our salvation. He had allowed His spirit to be shaped by the hand of Elohim and Elohim made Jehovah like unto Himself.

"And the Lord said: Whom shall I send? And one answered like unto the Son of Man: Here am I, send me. And another answered and said: Here am I,s end me. And the Lord said: I will send the first."  Abraham 3: 27

His Life

Having consecrated Himself on our behalf to the Father's Plan, Jesus gave His mortal life to us as well. He walked among the poor, the lame, the outcast, and the sinner teaching the way of righteousness and ministering to their needs. The scriptures record His journey from newborn babe to a youth of twelve when His worried mother found Him in the temple teaching learned men the doctrines of God. Then, increasing in wisdom and in stature, He traveled throughout Galilee calling His twelve disciples and establishing His Church. He walked on the hillside and gathered those that would listen to hear His sermon of beatitudes. He walked on the waters and taught Peter about faith. He washed the dust of miles from His friends' feet. Mary sat with Him and received the better part. He stood at the well and offered a Samaritan woman the water of life. He drove the sellers from the temple. He battled Satan. He knelt before God. He trod the road to Golgotha. All for us.

"And his mother said unto him, Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? Behold, thy father and I have sought thee sorrowing. And he said unto them, How is it ye sought me? Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business?" Luke 2: 48-49

His Blood

Though He would still bleed on the cross, the blood Christ shed for us in the Garden binds us to Him, secures our hopes of repentance and justification. There, His certainly calloused, work-worn yet clean hands clasped in prayer and reached out to clasp our stained hands in His. Then, not shrinking from His covenants, He took our sins into His hands--and bore what is intolerable to Righteousness.

Yes. He offered His spotless hands and, clasping ours, bled in anguish as unknown sin seared His righteous flesh and bound Him to us, us to Him, through the clasp that made brother father of our souls. And surely we are His.

"He that ascended up on high as also he descended below all things, in that he comprehended all things, that he might be in all and through all things, the light of truth." Doctrine and Covenants 88: 6

"For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent; which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit--and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink--Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men." Doctrine and Covenants 19: 16-19

His Body

Having made an offering of blood and prayer in the Garden, Christ then offered up His body and spirit as He bled on the cross. In this ordeal prophecy was fulfilled and the Plan of Salvation secured, and us with it should we choose His way.

"For, behold, the Lord your Redeemer suffered death in the flesh; wherefore he suffered the pain of all men, that all men might repent and come unto him. And he hath risen again from the dead, that he might bring all men unto him, on conditions of repentance." Doctrine and Covenants 18: 11-12

"For behold, he surely must die that salvation may come; yeah, it behooveth him and becometh expedient that he dieth, to bring to pass the resurrection of the dead, that thereby men may be brought into the presence of the Lord. Yeah, behold, this death bringeth to pass the resurrection, and redeemeth all mankind from the first death--that spiritual death; for all mankind, but the fall of Adam being cut off from the presence of the Lord, are considered as dead, both to things temporal and to things spiritual. But behold, the resurrection of Christ redeemeth mankind, yea, even all mankind, and bringeth them back into the presence of the Lord." Helaman 14: 15-17

His Love

And this is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, that all men shall live who come unto Him. What is the Gospel? It is the good news that Jesus can save us from our fallen selves and make us right. Though all was necessary--His will, His life, His blood, His body--it is because of His love, His righteousness, that He is God and has the power to save.

I read His words, the words He prayed

while bearing sorrow in Gethsemane;

I feel His love, the price He paid:

How many drops of blood were shed for me?

With saints of old in joyful cry

I too can testify: This is the Christ.

This is the Christ, the Holy Son of God,

Our Savior, Lord, Redeemer of mankind.

This is the Christ, the healer of our souls

who ransomed us with love divine.

~From "This is the Christ" by James E. Faust and Jan Pinborough

 Happy Christmas!

Confessions of a Teenage Caduceuturg

Oh, I know what you're all wondering: What on Middle Earth is a "caduceuturg?" Well just hold your hippogriffs and we'll get to that.

This all started more than a year ago now, around January of 2010, all because I wanted to make my cousin (we'll call her "Hermione) a wand for her birthday in March. I started sketching out designs, and then asked my dad (hereafter labeled "He-Who-Can-Do-Anything") for help with the specifics.

The first step: planning and design.

Hermione's wand: Linden and Dragon Heartstring, 9.65 inches.

I continued working on Hermione's wand, but really didn't think that much of it until my own birthday in February.

My family and I were all in the dining room for my birthday dinner when my brother looked out the window and said, "Is that an owl?" He then went around to the door, and returned with a package. A brown-paper-wrapped package. With a label on it. And the label had not only my name and street address, but also the exact room we were in. Now almost hyperventilating with excitement over the best prospective birthday gift ever, I tore off the packaging to reveal this:

That's right, folks. My dad had made me a wand--Willow and phoenix feather, 8 and three-quarter inches. And from there, things kind of went crazy. My dad created three separate wand companies with three distinct styles and started churning out unique, hand-made wands like mad.

H.L. Gryphon and Sons (Purveyors of Fine Magical Mercantiles since 1327) use a shaft-and-handle construction like mine and Hermione's.

Wilkinson and Silverwood make turned wands on the lathe.

Greensward of Glencoe specializes in single-piece nature-inspired wands.

Dad made wands for every member of our extended family, and then we started selling them. Dad took them to his work, and I was the official vendor at my high school. The reception was fantastic--especially around Christmas and, oh, November 18th. (The day of the premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1). In fact, that week we completely sold out! Dad calls himself a caduceator, using the Latin word "caduceus," meaning "wand."

Now, Dad's the real craftsman here; he makes every single wand himself (except for my friend "Bellatrix," whose wand was made by my brother.) But I myself got more and more involved--after all, I did inadvertently start the whole thing. I was head saleswoman, but after a bit I was also head...consultant? Wand-lore-and-Harry-Potter-expert? C'mon, I needed a cooler name than that! Caduceuturg. Yep, that'll about fit the bill...and, ok, so it does just mean wand-expert...but it sounds all cool and Latin, right? Right.

Here's what I do. In general, I'm in charge of wand description--I measure them, choose the cores, and make sure anything that's Harry Potter-related is accurate.  (That last bit has become less necessary as we started selling them--copyright issues, you know.) I get to experiment with lots of fun terms, too: "variegated walnut," "power nodes," "engraved pommel." Wands have endless invented vocabulary. Usually, though, I'm an employee of Wilkinson and Silverwood's. We specialize in "historical" wands--that is, we make them, but they come with certificates detailing their long and no doubt glorious past. And I'm in charge of writing those certificates. I research some minor historical figure, usually an alchemist or something of that kind, from a few hundred years ago or so, and then invent names and dates and events all about how the wand came to be in the possession of its current lucky owner. You may now admit that I have the coolest job in the world.  

The three most common cores: Dragon Heartstring, Phoenix Feather, and Unicorn Tailhair.

The certificate which accompanies a W&S wand.

As of right now, we only sell wands ourselves. I keep telling Dad that he should open a shop on the internet--so many people would want one of these! They're completely one-of-a-kind, handmade, can be personalized, and they're much cheaper than any other wands out there. Dad's worried about the time it would take to keep an internet shop up, but who knows? Maybe if enough people expressed interest, it could win him over.

My wand--shaft, handle, and core--in the first phases of construction.

My brother's wand, modeled partly after the Elder Wand as depicted in the Harry Potter movies.

The Cartographer

I'm making a map of my heart in the hope that
by remembering where I've come from
I'll learn where I'm going.
Because I don't know.

I'm making a map of my heart.
Compass and telescope
aren't much help here.
This journey is in landmarks.
Ink stains. Tears.
The echoes of laughter.

I'm making a map of my heart.
I blow the dust off old boxes of memories
I haven't looked at in years.
And I find things
discover things
I didn't even know I'd lost.

I'm making a map of my heart.
Smell of baby lotion.
Color of baby blanket.
I sweep the cobwebs off old toys
and turn the pages of childhood books
and I smile.

I'm making a map of my heart
and I'm learning things
just as I'd hoped
but some of them surprise me.

I'm making a map of my heart.
As I walk among family and friends
new and old 
I look through the faces for
just that one that is
you.
I know you are here, I just don't know
where.

I'm making a map of my heart.
And maybe
when I find that place
that X-marks-the-spot
maybe I'll also find the courage
to show you that map
where you are.

A Quest

It's that time of year again: time for my annual rereading of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. I've been doing this since first and third grade respectively for the two books, and it's one of my favorite traditions-I-do-all-on-my-lonesome. But this year, I'm not so alone!
As many of you know, every Labor Day I throw a giant LotR marathon party. As she did with me, my mom has told my little sister that she can watch the movies as soon as she has read the books in their entirety. Obviously, Lizzie wants to be ready by the marathon, which means I'm going to attempt to READ ALL OF THE LORD OF THE RINGS IN ONE MONTH. This wouldn't be a problem if it was just me, but I'll be reading them aloud to my sister, which is significantly slower. Can it be done? Honestly, I don't know. There are three long books in the trilogy. 1,008 pages. Dense pages--42 lines and 503 words on the first full page alone. Whew! But there are also 62 chapters. Divide that in half, and you get exactly one month. So at the semi-reasonable rate of two chapters per day, it can be done! Labor Day being on September 5th even gives us some wiggle room.
If you're like me, this is starting to sound exciting. Would you like to join in our quest? We shall be the Fellowship of the Ring! Wouldn't it be cool if a whole bunch of us had read (or reread) LotR right before the marathon? If you're interested, I have created an easy-to-follow reading schedule, which you will find below. (If you're not convinced, read through the chapter titles. That should do the trick.) If the task is a little daunting, how about reading The Hobbit as a shorter prelude to the marathon?
And so we begin.

"When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton...."



The Schedule By Chapters

The Fellowship of the Ring

August 1: "A Long-Expected Party" and "The Shadow of the Past"

August 2: "Three is Company" and "A Short Cut to Mushrooms"

August 3: "A Conspiracy Unmasked" and "The Old Forest"

August 4: "In the House of Tom Bombadil" and "Fog on the Barrow-downs"

August 5: "At the Sign of the Prancing Pony" and "Strider"

August 6: "A Knife in the Dark" and "Flight to the Ford"

August 7: "Many Meetings" and "The Council of Elrond"

August 8: "The Ring Goes South" and "A Journey in the Dark"

August 9: "The Bridge of Khazad-dûm" and "Lothlórien"

August 10: "The Mirror of Galadriel" and "Farewell to Lórien"

August 11: "The Great River" and "The Breaking of the Fellowship"

The Two Towers

August 12: "The Departure of Boromir" and "The Riders of Rohan"

August 13: "The Uruk-hai" and "Treebeard"

August 14: "The White Rider" and "The King of the Golden Hall"

August 15: "Helm's Deep" and "The Road to Isengard"

August 16: "Flotsam and Jetsam" and "The Voice of Saruman"

August 17: "The Palantír" and "The Taming of Sméagol"

August 18: "The Passage of the Marshes" and "The Black Gate is Closed"

August 19: "Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit" and "The Window on the West"

August 20: "The Forbidden Pool" and "Journey to the Cross-roads"

August 21: "The Stairs of Cirith Ungol" and "Shelob's Lair"

August 22: "The Choices of Master Samwise" and

The Return of the King

                                                                              "Minis Tirith"

August 23: "The Passing of the Grey Company" and "The Muster of Rohan"

August 24: "The Siege of Gondor" and "The Ride of the Rohirrim"

August 25: "The Battle of the Pelennor Fields" and "The Pyre of Denethor"

August 26: "The Houses of Healing" and "The Last Debate"

August 27: "The Black Gate Opens" and "The Tower of Cirith Ungol"

August 28: "The Land of Shadow" and "Mount Doom"

August 29: "The Field of Cormallen" and "The Steward and the King"

August 30: "Many Partings" and "Homeward Bound"

August 31: "The Scouring of the Shire" and "The Grey Havens"

Big Sky Fourth of July

Quick catch-up post before we dive right into New York City.
I started Independence Day off right by waking up on my Colonial Days schedule: early in the morning. My first thought was honestly "This time back home, I'd be avoiding John Wolfe right about now." But I got out of my I-miss-Provo rut quickly enough and entirely enjoyed the day.
Small-town Fourths are...different. Home's not big, mind, but our celebrationsare huge. Here, not so much. And much more hick. (In a good way.)

We went to the parade in Choteau (pronounced Show-toe.)
Now this parade is no Macy's Thanksgiving extravaganza. It's not even Provo's Independence Celebration. Nope, this is the heart of Montana...which turns out to be really, really small. There are three main vehicles: Horses. Tractors (or combines.) And old cars. Mind you these old cars are not "Look at me and my vintage-ness," but rather "I haven't actually bought a new car since 1952." Endearing in an odd sort of way. The parade goes al the way through town, then turns around and comes back--it takes about 40 minutes total.

We then proceeded to the family picnic, where we ate sloppy joes, chips, Shasta soda (a 4th of July Gleason tradition) and THE BEST ICECREAM ON EARTH. Period. We make icecream parlor runs probably three times per trip. Sometimes more, but who's counting?

Then...the rodeo. Oh yes. Funny, thrilling, occasionally terrifying. If you've never been to one, you should probably get on it.

After that we were pretty exhausted so the day just kind of ran down into chatting, with fireworks in the evening. Huzzah for America!

One very important aspect of the vacation that I've neglected to mention: The Gleason Plague of 2011.
It struck on Saturday, July 2nd. By the 4th, 25 people were afflicted. Instead of Big Skies, this is what we all looked at for a few days:

At last count, we infected 50 out of the 150 in attenance at the reunion. It was pretty miserable for a while there.

I finish posting about Montana with this picture of my brother, just to remind you all that some things never change, even 600 miles from home, and this video, which really does sum up our entire trip, and our entire family.

We got into New York Saturday afternoon, no problems. (Luggage getting to the correct baggage claim is a greater miracle than planes flying.) I knew I was going to have a good trip when we stepped out of the airport and saw this facing us on a bus:

Sunday was quiet. We ate pancakes and watched Anne of Green Gables, which was lovely, until Lauren got here.
Today we went swimming, watched Despicable Me, ate macaroni and cheese, pineapple, and Icees, and went to Central Park. Tomorrow the fun really starts as we officially hit the town.
Cheers!

Blogging NYC: Wait.

I'm not quite in New York yet. I'm in Montana for our giant family reunion--not just extended, but 2nd and 3rd and twice-removed relations. It's called Elyfest, after my Great-grandparents on my mom's mom's side. The reunion is at the beautiful, old-fashioned farm where my grandmother and mother grew up: Teton Dairy.

 The farm.

The spigot. (What do you mean, you don't have one?)

There are about 150 of us here, filling three houses, three campers, two bunkhouses, a few hotel rooms, and a tent. Before everyone arrived, we spent the first few days sweeping, sorting, cleaning, polishing, wiping, dusting, mopping, hosing, boxing, (gnawing, biting, breaking, hacking) and burning to get ready for all the extra people. This was good, because there's not actually all that much else to do here...until everyone arrives! Then the party starts.
We play on the swing-sets.

 My second-cousin, Shaea.

All the little'uns.

We talk and hang out and ride horses. We play with the dogs--there are five here. Booger, Chevy, Emma, Ginger, and Bentley (the cutest little hound dog puppy who trips over his ears when he runs.)

Cousins Terry and McCann and anonymous other small relative.

We eat a lot of good food ("Out here, down-home-hearty-cooking is one word.) Sometimes we even sleep.

Klyde and Terry after a long day of hard playing.

On Saturday, we started off the morning with a traditional game of Rock Picking, an accepted form of entertainment here in the hinterlands.

A second-cousin who's name I forget, with my cousin Jesse in the background.

I'm just kidding. We did go out to the Drylands (grazing area) and "pick rocks," but it was for good reason. We need to build a well. Or dyke. Or something. Anyway, it requires lots of rocks. So at 8:00 am we loaded up the pickups and started off. We got five truckloads of rocks that morning.

Second-cousins Tenny and EB. Awesome truck.

The product of our labors.

The long grasses and wildflowers naturally manifested themselves in the crowning of many Prairie Princesses and Mountain Maidens.

Second-cousin Laura.

Then, because digging up boulders doesn't really count as exercise, we went on a six-mile roundtrip hike. It was long and difficult, we did our fair amount of bushwacking, and I got sunburnt (surprise!) but it was entirely worth it. We hiked up a trail, and then a canyon, to get to a beautiful waterfall. This involved lots of trying not to get wet, which was proved pointless when we all hopped into the ice-melt shower at the end.

I'm going to go on a quick but relevant tangent here. Did you know I'm related to a superhero? It's true. This is my first-cousin-once-removed-but-really-he's-more-of-an-uncle Brian.

He looks perfectly fine, right? Right. But he shouldn't be. Just a few months ago, he was thrown from his sixty-foot-high cherry picker while trimming a tree, and landed on the edge of a cement planter, breaking (not surprisingly) pretty much every bone in his body. He was in a coma for days. We didn't know if he would live. He didn't just survive, though. By all rights he should be recuperating in bed with a nice Western and a cup of chamomile tea. Instead, he's remodeling a house. He hauled stones with the best of us, and walked every inch of our six-mile hike. Plus he's a national-champion ballroom dancer, and basically the nicest person you'll ever meet. Ever.
When we got back, we built a dance floor. (We're cool like that.) And then we danced. And danced and danced and danced until after midnight.

May I just say that I love my family?