From me

Children can bring you joy.
They can also break your heart.
Probably you knew that already.

There Is Light in 2015

I'm not sure how to write this. Someone who reads it will think it ridiculous. I can't help that.

It's about the line of nine lanterns along the outer wall of the garage at the front of the house. Between the wall and along the concrete walkway that leads to the front door is a two-foot space. When we first built the house, we had flowers there against that wall. I had zinnias and marigolds and columbine that climbed high on the wall. I liked the color and the evidence the flowers gave that I actually cared about flowers and about the outside of my house. This lasted about three years.

The neighbor across the street had a cat. The cat would come over, dig in the dirt and use my flower area as a toilet. The digging was bad enough, but the smell was awful. I wasn't happy. I sprayed stuff that was supposed to deter animals, and I poured Clorox around the area. Nothing worked. So I gave up on having flowers. Wayne covered the ground with plastic and gravel and installed the lanterns.

It was a good thing, although after the neighbor moved and took the cat with them, I wanted to tear out the lanterns and plant something alive again. But I didn't do it. I got so I counted on the lanterns to come on every night--as the timer bid them to do--and go off in the morning. It was automatic, a nice line of small lights every night. Wayne set the timer. If a light occasionally burned out, I replaced it with the tiny bulbs I bought at Home Depot.

When Wayne died, my first thoughts were not of the lanterns. But I did still count on their light.

I figured out how to set the timer--I'm not helpless. But this summer something happened. I don't know what. The lights stopped coming on. I fiddled with the timer, thought I had it fixed, but no. A time or two the lanterns would come on as they should, but not always. A few times they came on in the morning and went off at night. Not hard to fix, you would think. But over a period of several weeks, nothing seemed to work automatically. I would manually turn the lights on in the evening and off next morning. Sometimes I didn't want to bother with it. So the place was just dark. And I was very frustrated.

Then one night a few weeks ago the lights came on at around 7 o'clock. They went off again at 7 the next morning. A fluke, I thought. I hadn't turned them on or off, and I hadn't touched the timer in more than a week, so I figured it was some little happy accident. Next night at 7, the lights came on, off in the morning. Hmmm. Well, it can't last. But it has. Those lanterns come on every night at 7 and go off every morning at 7. I still check every night, just to make sure, and because I enjoy what seems to me a small miracle. Maybe even a tiny miracle.

And that's the part someone will find ridiculous, but I say, "Think what you want." For my part, I believe Wayne stopped by and fixed the thing. For me he did that. I can get rational and say it couldn't be, not possible, and I certainly don't know how such a thing could happen, but still, I believe it. They were his lights, and I was pretty unhappy that I couldn't make them work. So he fixed them. Why not?

And what will I say if they stop working? I don't know. I'll deal with that if it happens.  In the meantime, I'll tell those Rake-up Boise folks who are coming in two weeks, bless them, not to touch my lanterns.

Humbled Today

We take too much for granted.

I speak for myself. I take too much for granted without pausing to give thanks.

I hereby offer humble thanks for my life, my parents, my health, my family, my home, my church, my Savior, where I live, my country, my heritage, all blessings that are mine that I have never really had to think about because they have been mine.

I give thanks.

And so on

A long time silent here.

That does not mean anything except that I haven't written.

As to my widowly feelings. It's still the pits being a widow. I don't recommend it.

I still love my husband, miss him, would like to see him up there at his sink, shaving, or just lounging in the family room, his chair tipped back, a nice little fire going.

And so on. It's not news.

Our son, Richard Joseph

Joseph for Joseph Fielding Smith.

Today is Richard's birthday. He's 42 today. Oh my goodness.

Richard: good heart, very good heart; bright mind and sharp intellect; artistic and clever; a keeper of the law; a natural teacher; a funny guy; a good father, who loves his children and has high hopes for them; faithful to what he knows and believes; and a good husband.

The memory is a wonderful thing. Just sitting here I can see Richard--hugging the knitted puppy I made for him; skateboarding, with a shock of orange hair; acting in Picnic; crying when his dog got hit by the school bus; practicing the guitar; being a perpetual idealist, no matter what. And so much more.

Richard loves his dad, and I'm sure he misses him. Wherever he is, Richard, he is please with your life and your goodness.

Me, too.

Change is good. I hope.

Every year at Christmas I make peanut brittle and fudge and licorice caramels and sometimes toffee and Yum-yums (a family recipe thing). Occasionally Christmas cookies.

Not this year.

Why? Not sure. Too tired, maybe. Don't need all that sugar and neither do my kids and their kids. Probably.

I suppose if folks want that stuff they can make it.


I am making Yum-yums. And I think that's all. Not sure anyone will notice the difference. We'll see.

What do you think?

Soup’s In

I don’t like green bean casserole. It tastes fake. Cream of Mushroom soup, I believe, is the—what shall I say?—glue that holds the dish together. “Possibilities.” Read the word as if you’re singing it, as heard in a fairly recent Campbell Soup commercial about same dish.

Possibilities because there is so much you can do with Cream of Mushroom soup. Just go to the Campbell Soup website, which I did, and you’ll see what I mean. You can make

Beef & Mushroom Dijon

Creamy Vegetables in Pastry

2-Step Garlic Pork Chops

Chicken Fajitas—but tell me why you would use C of M soup in chicken fajitas

Chicken and Broccoli Alfredo

Chicken and Broccoli Alfredo for a Crowd

Company Buffet Layered Salad, not yet rated, (all recipes are rated with stars, one to five, but I can’t find out who does the rating)

Swiss Vegetable Medley—a five-star meal—and thirty some others,not to mention, because they weren’t on the list, the two casseroles I thought the soup was invented for: Tuna Casserole with Rice and Tuna Casserole with Noodles.

These are recipes I found by entering Cream of Mushroom soup without specifying what I wanted to use it with, like beans, peas, eggs, cheese, ham, pork, etc., which means hundreds of recipes are out there ready for you to dump your can of soup into.

I have wondered, and long before today, if anyone eats Cream of Mushroom soup. You know, just as soup. I found no information about that.

Of course, Campbell makes other soups that work well in recipes—Cream of Celery, my mother-in-law’s tuna casserole soup—Cream of Chicken, Cream of Chicken with Rice, Cream of Broccoli. Etc., etc., etc. But my guess is that C of M is the main mixer.

It’s true, I write with some disdain but must confess I have cooked with C of M soup. In the 1970s and 80s it seemed that was what a mother did, many a mother. She opened a can of soup, added it to other ingredients, cooked it or baked it, and set it before her family, who were supposed to be grateful and glad. Just take a look at the folks in the green bean casserole commercial. They are happy, delighted, in fact, at the prospect of eating the C of M soup-augmented beans topped with “savory, crunchy French fried onions.” You may already know that green bean casserole has become, for some, a Christmas dinner tradition, and I believe the commercial is designed to help us understand that we don’t have to wait for Christmas to enjoy this dish of disguised vegetables.

I used to take some pride in declaring I have never made it, never served it. That’s because someone else made it and served it to me. Once. But my son asked me to make it not long ago and bring to Thanksgiving dinner. So I did. He likes it, and I like him. But he now makes it, and I am glad.

I also take pride in declaring my use of C of M soup was minimal by comparison with friends I knew. But, yes, I did make beef Stroganoff and a Swiss Steak or two during the many years when my family gathered for dinner, and I made plenty of tuna casserole. My children—all grown and now eating meals they have prepared and calling me to ask how to get a picky child to eat—delight in telling me they always hated the tuna casserole. So I like to recommend it for their picky eaters. In my defense I say their dad loved tuna casserole, and I made it for him. Also in my defense I say I could remind them they ate plenty of Doritos casserole, which had not only Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom but also Cream of Chicken soup in it. Double whammy.

I know there are other brands of soup, but I mention only Campbell’s because I remember being warned not to use any other brand of soup, like the brands with the super market labels. Things just won’t turn out as good, I was told. Pretty much the same soup, as far as I can tell. Apparently the label makes the difference.

Speaking of labels, I don’t think we were reading them carefully in those days. We were less aware and assumed the stuff we bought in cans was okay to use, okay to eat. Besides, we could afford a can of soup. Today we’re a label-reading culture, and a quick glance at those soups alarms us. Mostly it’s the salt. In one ½-cup serving of C of M soup, for example, you get 870 milligrams of sodium. That’s 2175 per can. Not good. Besides, I think if you’re actually going to eat a serving of C of M soup—like if you’re really hungry and it’s all you have in your pantry—you’ll probably eat more than ½ a cup, so you’ll be salted for the day pretty much.

Campbell Company has heard the outcry for healthier soups. They now make versions whose labels boast “less sodium.” I note they do not say “low” sodium, and I see it as a marketing strategy more than a real concern for our arteries and blood pressure. These “less sodium” soups and Campbell’s “healthy” soups cost more than their regular soups. Of course.

I don’t cook with soup at all anymore, and I eat canned soup rarely now. I’m not a child and can live quite happily without the noodles in the chicken noodle soup, which, I am told, seem to have decreased in number noticeably over the years. (I don’t like to think of someone counting noodles at the Campbell Soup cannery. Terrible job.) And I’m not cooking for a big family anymore, at least not regularly, and when I do cook for them, I try to do it without a can of soup.

Once in a great while I’ll have some tomato soup from a can, but not often, and when I’ve opened the can and heated the stuff and had a bowl of it, I know I won’t want it again for a long, long time.

By the way, I never liked tomato soup cake. Sounds gross, doesn’t it. I only made it once, about twenty-five years ago, because my best friend gave me the recipe for it and said the cake was great. I never told her how I felt about it. We were friends, after all. I wonder if they have a Cream of Mushroom soup cake. Hope not. Anyway, if you like the sound of tomato soup cake, I can give you the recipe.