I mean that.  You can all blame Mrs. Mecham, she was my Sophomore English teach in High School.

I have three main memories of her class.  The first I wrote about here back in October.  The second was when I walked, waddled really, into her classroom the day after I broke my ankle, which was also 6 days after I broke my finger.  That entire experience (breaking two bones in two separate accidents within a week) is something that I’ll have to write about later.

I was a bit late for class since crutches tend to slow you down.  Just as she was starting class I opened the door and tried to make my way to my seat, which of course was on the other side of the room.

She looked up at me and quite loudly said “What happened to you!?”.  I had to explain which took the first five minutes of class.

The third memory though is something that I’ll probably remember for the rest of my life and is something that I try to put into action whenever possible.

She would always emphasize that we just need to pencil to paper and just let everything Flow.  She would encourage us to get our ideas on paper and then to refine them.  I remember her saying that it was just paper and that there was always more it.  She helped us to understand that no idea is a dumb or useless idea and that some ideas can just be refined better than others.

She was also very dramatic, so when she’d assign us a paper, she’d do this little dance and point to the gigantic drawing that contained the word “Flow” she had on the chalkboard.

So you see, she’s the one to blame for all of the stuff that I write here.  I’m just “Flowing” which causes a lot of posts.

It’s not my fault if I can’t refine those ideas very well….well ok maybe it is.

Ok, I’m finally caught up on the Christmas Stories.  I’m sure that I’ll be behind within the next 24 hours though.

Sorry, I’ll really try to do better.

I have always loved Thanksgiving Weekend.  Growing up Thanksgiving was always a big holiday in my family, family came from all over for the feast.  I have fond memories of huge Turkeys, mounds of mashed potatoes covered in butter (gravy – blech!), deviled eggs, crab cocktail (yes, my family has crab for Thanksgiving dinner) with hot sauce (or super hot sauce depending on if you dare), Yams with mini-marshmallows, salads, rolls, stuffing all served on Mom’s best china.

Our family tradition is to play a couple of games (Bingo and “The candy bar game”) together as a family.  Each game had their own reward.  Heaven forbid you got the Old Grandma and Grandpa in the Hot Tub gift (don’t ask).  We all had a great time and enjoyed being together as a family. 

Once the games were done we’d break out the pies.  There were so many choices that it was near impossible figuring out which to have, so you’d just have a sliver of each.

A couple of hours after Pie we’d break out the left overs and start making Turkey sandwiches.  Privately, this was one of my favorite memories growing up.  Making a turkey sandwich on a roll.  I’d put on some mayo, a little bit each of dark and light meat and dig in.

Most years Mom and Dad’s house would be full of fantastic smells and family members and I loved every minute of it.

Growing up we also had snowmobiles, so for several years if conditions would permit we’d go snowmobiling the day after Thanksgiving.  Have you ever tried to dig a snowmobile out of a ton of fresh powder while you’re stomach is still full on turkey?  It’s not a lot of fun, let me tell you.

While serving as a missionary, I probably missed my family more on Thanksgiving than I did at Christmas.

My most favorite Thanksgiving of all time was probably my first after my mission.  I arrived home on Halloween and Thanksgiving was a few short weeks later.  I was still in missionary mode, though I was sleeping in a bit later than 6:30 and staying out later than 9:30 at that point.

The previous year my parents had invited a Pennsylvania friend of mine to come over for Thanksgiving.  She (yes, I said She) was anticipating a call from her Grandparents in Idaho and possibly one from my parents in West Jordan.  She was living in Provo at the time, so either one was an option.

She told herself that she’d go to which ever family called first.  It just so happened that my mom called about five minutes before her grandmother.  She spent that Thanksgiving at my parents house with them and my three sisters.  From the reports that I got, my entire family fell in love with her and thought that I needed to fall in love with her also.

That just wasn’t going to happen.  I was a missionary after all and I was dead set on not marrying anyone (Sister Missionary or Member) from my mission.

Back to my first year home.  I had invited several additional Pennsylvania friends to spend that Thanksgiving with us.  This same girl, her sister, another friend who was attending Ricks College (now BYU-Idaho) and a former Sister Missionary.

We all had a great time that weekend, but something happened.  Something that I had not anticipated would ever happen, in fact I had told myself that it never would.  We started to hang out and talk, which was really strange because this girl was extremely shy, especially around the opposite sex.

We really started to hit it off.  My family had been telling me that I needed to ask this girl out and I still flat out refused.

We went to see the Christmas lights be turned on at Temple Square (back then there was a ceremony and literally 100,000 people downtown to see it).  I dropped everyone off at the West gate and was going to go park.  I told myself that if this girl stayed in the car with me as I parked the car (something I was sure would have to be divine intervention because she’d never do that normally) that I’d ask her out.

Everyone piled out of the van, even her sister opened her door and said “Are you coming?”.  Her reply was “No thanks, I’m going to go with him to park the car”.  My jaw hit the floor, I couldn’t believe it.

After seeing the lights, we went for a drive and passed the University of Utah Married Student Housing (the “Village”).  I joked with this girl that the next year she’d be living there with her new husband.  Her response was that it was I who would be living there with my new wife.  We both laughed it off and thought nothing more of it.

Needless to say, I held up my end of the bargain and by the end of the weekend we were planning our first date.

Oh and the next year, I was living in the “Village” with my new wife, but the joke was on her, because she was living there with her new husband also.

Love you sweetie!  I am so thankful that we had that special Thanksgiving together 13 years ago, my life hasn’t been the same since and that’s just how I would want it.

Please Login or Register to read the rest of this content.

Don’t worry, if you’d like an account sign up and if I know who you are, I’ll approve it

I’ve been asked a couple of times why I would want to maintain a blog.  Well the short (and seemingly rude/snobbish/whatever you would like to call it) answer is that it’s for me, not really for anyone (which currently I don’t believe that there are any) reading this.

Now let me explain (this is where you get the long answer). I’m not trying to scare any potential readers away, in fact you’re welcome to read what I write at anytime.  I wouldn’t have started doing this in such a public forum if I didn’t mind others reading what I write.

The fact is that some of my worst subjects in school had to do with writing.  I suffered through English as best I could, but my interests were always elsewhere.  Spelling and Reading were always fun, but I wasn’t interested in anything else and my grades reflected it.  As a result, I rely heavily on Spell and Grammar Check.

I was the kind of student (High School and College) that cranked out a paper in one draft.  Not that I was that good, but because I didn’t care and didn’t like the entire process.  That was several years ago, I’m now more mature and hopefully more patient.

I did have one time that I can remember where I was able to produce a good paper.  It was my Sophomore year in High School.  We had just finished reading parts of Don Quixote which is one of my favorite stories.  I’m actually listening to the soundtrack as I type this.

Our assignment was to rewrite the ending.  My family had spent some time in Southern California a year or so before this assignment.  My story involved Don Quixote and Sancho Panza going through a time warp that took them to the back lot of Universal Studios.  As they approached a lake the waters parted (10 Commandments) and as they made it to the other side a shark (Jaws) “attacked”.  In true Don Quixote fashion he drew his sword and boldly attacked the beast.  Needless to say he and Sancho were electrocuted and died there on the back lot in modern times.  Grim I know, but I had to find a way to end the story.

A few days after turning in the paper to my English teacher, I walked into her classroom, she looked at me and yelled “You” pointing at me, surprising myself and the rest of the students in the room.  I was sure that I was in some serious trouble.  She then went on to say how fantastic my paper was and wanted me to read it in front of the class.  Embarrassed and shy I refused, so someone else read my story to the entire class.

When she returned the story my grade was an A+ the only one that I earned in my entire career as a student.  I saved the paper and have it around the house somewhere.  Maybe someday I’ll get brave and post it here.

Fast forward to present day, I’ve been thinking a lot about writing my personal history and of going back to school for a Masters.   I know that I need to greatly improve my writing abilities before I even attempt to start either.  There are also several other little projects that I’d like to attempt. 

So there you have it, that’s why I started this little project.