I can't even tell you how much I have enjoyed reading everyone's blogs and all the comments that are made on them. It's great to go through "my favorites" every day, anticipating the next post from each one of you. You are all so profound and/or funny or have something so interesting to say. I know you all must have been disappointed to check my blog and see nothing new day after day. So I shall endeavor ("shall endeavor?" - I must have listened to Pride and Prejudice too long this week) to overcome my performance anxiety and write something new today.

I liked Kjersti's idea of writing about the things I enjoy.

I enjoy curling up under a blanket with a good book and just reading for hours. Lately, I have gotten into the habit of listening to books on tape at night until I fall asleep. That way, the light doesn't stay on all night and the tape just shuts itself off when it ends. I also love to listen to a good book while I am driving. Geoffrey and I have listened to all the Harry Potter books while driving back and forth from Wes's place on Sundays. We are on our second time around, Book 3. I also enjoy reading out loud in a group and then discussing what we have read.

I absolutely love listening to Kurt Bestor's music. I especially like seeing him in concert while listening to his music. If the money from my Phen/Fen settlement comes in time, I am going on a Kurt Bestor cruise to Alaska. He will be there to play for us two nights during this five day cruise. I would love to combine it with going to visit Wesley for a few days. That's a nice dream.

I enjoy anticipating becoming a grandma. I have a vision in my head of what being a grandma looks like and what kind I will be. I hope I can always be someone who shows unconditional love to all my grandchildren. I want them to trust me enough that they won't hesitate to ask me questions or to tell me about their problems or their hopes and plans for the future. I hope that I will always be able to attend special events in their lives and celebrate with them on their birthdays and have them over individually for a sleepover at my house. I want them to think of their grandma's place as a fun place to be. I want to spoil them with cookies and presents. I want them to play with the games I have been saving from when my own children were little. I want to create a whole new meaning for the name "Grandma Hanna."

I enjoy getting paid for my work. I remember a time in the past when all my work was either unpaid labor at home or else volunteer work for the church. It was hard to feel like it was really worth anything. But every two weeks when I bring home a paycheck, I feel a sense of accomplishment and reward for my efforts that really feels good. When I see at the end of the year that I have bought home more than $29,000, I just have to smile. I remember Bishop Reed telling Kjersti how irresponsible her mother was for not staying home with her family. I wish I had had a chance to ask him how adding almost $30,000 to the family finances could be considered irresponsible. If I were a man, it wouldn't be.

Like Kjersti, this is surely not a complete list. But it is enough for one post. I will add to it as I have time and more ideas.

What I Admired About My Mother:

Since I was from a large family and arrived in the middle of it, I saw my mother with babies. Perhaps not so much with Mark, who is just 3 years younger than me, but definitely with Odene, Sharilee, Shane and Nolana. She was a wonderful mother. The thing that stood out to me was how gentle and patient she was with babies. I watched her bathe, diaper, wrap and feed them with great care. Her love for them was apparent to me even as a young girl. Years later, when I had my own babies, my mother had a very calming effect on them and on me. Any one of my crying children that she held would immediately quiet down and, most of the time, fall asleep. They sensed from her experience and her confidence that all was well. I could also get some much-needed sleep, knowing she was there.

My mother loved to sew. I had heard stories about how, growing up, she would sew clothes for her younger brother and sister, and for their cats. Every year in August, she would sew our school clothes, usually two or three outfits for each of us. Before we wore them to school, however, she would enter them in the Lincoln County Fair and almost without fail, they would win blue ribbons. Her specialty was making new outfits out of old outfits – a skill that served her very well during the Depression and which was appreciated in a large family without a lot of money. I didn’t own a "store-bought" dress until I was a junior in high school. My mother also sewed my wedding dress, which I loved and wore to the temple for many years after I was married.

My mother was a very staunch Mormon from a very faithful Mormon family. On my mother’s side of the family, I was descended from Charles C. Rich, a polygamous Mormon apostle during Brigham Young’s era. My mother attended church meetings faithfully, even when she had to walk there. The only time my mother missed a meeting was when she was too sick to hold up her head. At my mother’s funeral, my older brother, Ross told a story about being a young boy and deciding at the last minute that he wanted to go to church with my mother. Her reaction was a mystery to him at first, because she didn’t seem pleased at all that he wanted to go with her. She actually tried to talk him out of going. When he refused to stay home, she reluctantly allowed him to get ready and go with her, but he noticed that she cried all the way there. It wasn’t until much later that he learned what she was so upset about on that day. He learned that, until that day, she had had a 100 % attendance record, but because she had waited for Ross to get ready and walk with her, she had missed one of her meetings. She may have taken her attendance a bit too seriously, by my standards, but I always did admire her for her steadfastness and determination. Come hell or high water, she was dependable.

After I grew up, I regretted not having been closer to my mother. I regretted not having known her better and I grieved for all the things she gave up in order to be a "good Mormon" wife and mother. For example, she was a very good artist, and I never saw anything that she drew until I was in high school. I don’t remember her ever taking time for herself to just do the things that she loved to do. She was totally dedicated to her family and spent her entire life taking care of us.

The Best and Worst Meals I Have Eaten:

My love for food was born in my Grandmother Hoopes’ house at Thanksgiving. I will never forget the taste of her mashed potatoes – potatoes grown in her own garden whipped with cream from her own cows – and turkey gravy. Simply heavenly. She also made her own ice cream and her own whipped cream for her homemade pies. I could never get enough of all that good food at Thanksgiving. If I had had more room, I would have gone on eating it until it was gone.

I also remember an awesome dinner at the Log Haven one night with Wes. He was still working for Kessler and Rust and had a client who owned that restaurant. The owner thought a lot of Wes and insisted that we have the Chateau Briand with all the trimmings on the house. That delicious meat melted in our mouths. Afterward, we were so full, we could hardly move, but the owner insisted that we stay and have Bananas Flambé for dessert. It was a fantastic treat, or would have been if we hadn't made ourselves so sick eating it.

We also had many fine dinners at Nino's, a restaurant on the top floor of the University Club Building. Another one of Wes’ clients, who owed his law firm a lot of money, owned it. It was our favorite place to take friends and family for lovely (and free) dinners.

By far the worst meal I have ever had to eat was on Christmas Eve in Germany at the home of one of our investigators. I was extremely homesick anyway and needed some comfort food to make me feel better. I had been told that we would be having soup, so I was expecting some nice hot and hearty dish with meat, potatoes and vegetables. Instead, we were served fish soup, stone cold. I don’t know if it was the terrible flavor of cold, raw fish, or the relative deprivation of the reality vs. my expectations, or simply the fact that I was so far away from home on Christmas, but I "didn’t get a match." It was a totally miserable evening. The investigator had gone to a lot of trouble and expense to make us something he thought would be a real treat for us, and I couldn’t even hide how awful I thought it was.

So, what were the best and worst meals you have ever eaten?