Other December Tidbits

I had a birthday. (As I’m wont to do in December.) 45! I’m practically 90. (Well, half way anyway. Same thing.) 

Actually, Anders was telling me he’d lived an eighth of his life already, and Daisy, marveling at that, was a bit shocked to think she’d lived a fourth of hers. (I guess they’ve both determined 80 to be the end.) 

“But really!” Daisy kept saying. “Isn’t that just so weird to think? I’ve already lived a fourth of my life? And Anders already an eighth? That just seems so sad!” 

But I only sighed and told her that I felt almost the opposite in regards to my own age. Sort of a weary, “I’ve only lived HALF? I still have to live this long … AGAIN?” Hahah. Admittedly this was a particularly trying month for me. And another 45 years of the same did sound rather tedious at that particular moment. (I guess I can hope they are correct about 80, and I only have 35 more?) OK, I’m joking I’m joking. In truth I DO want to have years and years to keep mastering and learning all that morality has to teach me. I do. And I do want to be here as long as possible with children and grandchildren. So … hopefully another 45 to go. (And with those Richards family genes in me, there’s a good chance that could stretch to 55.) In the meantime, I’ll never say no to a day set aside solely to celebrate my arrival into mortality! Especially when there are signs like these put up for me:

(When did Summer get so clever and funny? “Gloom” hairstyle? (We have to be wary of that one because it is my typical hairstyle. ...) And the Mom-a-Lisa? So great.)

And Especially when the older girls tend, and clean, and bake me pies, and put kids to bed, and devote all day to making sure I have a happy day!

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In an attempt to cheer me (I think?) at the end of an exhausting day a few weeks ago, Mette’s drew me a nice little picture. And then decided it wouldn't hurt to add a little scripture as well. So she opened her Book or Mormon and jotted onto the picture the verse she landed on, which read: "How is it that ye have not hearkened unto the word of the Lord?" And then presented it to me. Very encouraging. 

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The other day Summer was playing with Hans when he began whining and protesting. In great frustration I heard Summer shout, “I’m just TRYING to tell you how to be a good husband!“

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Jesse has a running list of very particular things that he very particularly dislikes. I don't recall all of them, but I do know that these three are at the top of his list:

Sore throats

Player pianos (I guess it really creeps him out seeing piano keys moving with nobody at the helm?)

TikTok

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This conversation:

Hans — "Did you know the biggest number is one hundred and one?"

Abe — "It is? What about one hundred and two?"

Hans — "Uh. Maybe a hundred and five. No. (Determining to stick with his initial instincts despite Abe's logic.) It's a hundred and one."

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We managed Christmas Village this year. It's such a fun place for taking pictures, but ... I also recognized that we could manage a million kids in a large crowd much more easily if I purposely did NOT bring my camera. So I offer you only a few cell phone snapshots:

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My dad was a big believer in notes of instruction. Typically, they were written in red-felt-tip pen --with many capital letters and underlined points of emphasis. And they hung all about the house--reminding us about the necessity of turning off lights, not messing with thermostats, not removing tools from the spot they were in without returning them, parking in particular ways so that everyone coming and going could do so unimpeded, etc. Over the years we all came to smile over, and tease him about, and adore his notes. Even our friends were all aware of a GTA note and would often stop to read them for the sheer pleasure of it. So! Weren't we absolutely delighted when, during our Allred family Christmas party at my mom's ward, we found one of his notes on a closet full of tables! My mom swears she doesn't recall seeing it there these many years since he has been gone. But there it was. Memorialized. A little reminder that he was aware of us and with us, his posterity, as we gathered to celebrate. (And that he didn't want us doing anything foolhardy. Ha!) Oh I love and miss him.

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And a few misc. pictures. (Including dear Mette resting on the couch after spending a solid 24 hours throwing up if she took so much as a drink of water. She was a dear and kept praying all the while that nobody else in our family would get sick.)