tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60177884777905165452024-03-12T21:06:41.589-07:00Pangeahwhere it all comes togetherHunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-33205219565740512742020-06-28T18:08:00.000-07:002020-06-28T18:11:50.802-07:00Re-IntroductionSo I haven't touched this blog in a few years. I came back because I need a place to put my feelings. My usual forms of social media have become too controversial and argumentative on every point. I don't want to put my true thoughts in front of people I know not only won't appreciate them, but worse...feel the need to attack my ideas and my person. It feels like most people who share my views are being blocked and silenced, and perhaps I will be, too. But I feel called upon to speak up however I can. So I'll leave my thoughts here for "the Universe" (I call Him God) to send people to, if they need it.<br />
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I guess I could re-introduce myself. Hi. I am a mother. Whatever else I am in this life, raising children is my purpose in life, although I don't always remember that. I love surrounding myself with people who "keep it real." I have four kids that currently range in age from You-Ruied-My-Life-Again to I-Didn't-Poop-In-My-Pants-This-Time!. My husband is my partner-in-crime for ruining our kids' lives, although he's the softie, and the kids know it, so the ruining is mostly up to me.<br />
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I have a Bachelor's Degree in Geography, which I never intended to turn into a career; partly because I always planned to be a mother, partly because I love being a Secretary and Receptionist, and I just needed a degree, no matter the subject. My other dream job, which I currently have, is being at the school where my kids are. Right now I get to be a Recess Aide. I might ruin my children's lives further and become a substitute teacher someday, but I try to ruin their lives only a little at a time. I'm nice like that.<br />
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I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Some people call us the "Mormons." But we are so much more than that! You might know members of my church that are NOTHING like me, and you might know some that seem to be cut from the same "mold." Let me assure you as a very experienced Latter-day Saint...THERE IS NO MOLD to fit or not fit. I hope the rest of my Church catches that memo soon.<br />
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I have Severe Anxiety and Moderate Depression. If you told most of my friends I was giving a TED talk, and asked them to guess what it's about...I bet most of them would guess this subject. Talking about it seems to give me more power over it. And I pray that my voice will give other people struggling with it the courage to move. I say courage to "move" because it mostly makes me feel intellectually paralyzed. It's more than that, and less than that, and I'll save the rest of that... for another day!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what my dining space looks like from February to May.</td></tr>
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I am currently 39, but I have very "Elderly Hobbies." I've been sewing and gardening for decades. I might talk about that sometimes. I like Family History, too. I'm basically an old person trapped in a young-ish person's body. Except for the part where I love riding our motorcycle with my husband. That's a slightly less Elderly Hobby, but then again...you'd be surprised who I've seen out enjoying life on two wheels!<br />
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What do I not like? Cooking. Cleaning up after my tiny monster army. Mean people. When I'm accidentally a mean people. Grammar Jerks. There's more, I'm sure. Thanks for stoppping by to enjoy this journey!HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-78763898466891693782017-03-26T16:21:00.000-07:002017-03-26T16:23:29.573-07:00Rock HoundsI am not a soccer mom. I thought I would be, but I'm not. Not yet, anyway. My first two kids have not been super excited about sports teams, so I try to encourage them in whatever it is they seem to enjoy learning to do. This spring, instead of heading out of town for sports tournaments, we went rock hunting! This kid loves to watch science-y shows, and recently had lots of questions about geodes and fossils.<br />
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It just so happens that we live in Utah, which is a Geology hotspot if ever there was one. However, as every parent knows, kids lose interest in the obsession of the week pretty quickly. So, we tested the waters by buying a rock at our local Rock Shop, which we trusted would have a gap and crystals inside, because the guy said it would. We were only out $5 if he was wrong, or if the interest waned. As you can see, it was definitely a geode! My kid stayed excited by watching online videos of people digging and splitting geodes, so we took to the interwebs and planned an outing.</div>
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First, we borrowed a vehicle that had 4WD, in case it was necessary (thanks, Mom and Dad H!). Then we headed to the Utah Wonderstone quarry. There were so many eye-popping chunks of art just laying on the ground, but we brought out the "big guns" (sledge hammer) to try and get a bigger piece.</div>
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We brought enough hammers (and safety glasses, because we're nerds like that!) for the kids to break out pieces of their own, but there were seriously thousands of pieces just lying on the surface. I'm just in awe at how the sediments formed in every which way EXCEPT horizontal, how they normally do.<br />
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This is a marker along the trail of the Pony Express (and also the last bathroom stop for 25 miles there and 25 miles back!) at Simpson Springs.</div>
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Then we drove just an hour or two to the Dugway Geode beds. We didn't find the exact mound where the geodes are right away, but when we saw the ground littered with shards of crystally goodness, we knew it was the right place. We weren't extremely sure which rocks were geodes and which weren't, but we knew if we busted it open the wrong way that it would shatter, and not be as nice to look at. So, we brought home a couple of buckets of rocks with unknown innards, and cut them on a tile saw after we got home. </div>
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My husband worked his guts out in the hot sun, hoping to find something amazing. Being the middle of March, it was only in the upper 70's (Farenheit), I'm guessing. I am positive people who go there during the Summer months roast themselves. </div>
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The picture doesn't show it, but this is the glittering trail of leftovers that other geode hunters left us. Kids love all shiny things (kind of like rodents do), so yes, we brought home some of the shards, too.</div>
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This is all the shards (upper orange towel) and mystery rock halves (printed towel and lower orange one after they were cut and washed. </div>
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This is how many of the unknown rocks made geodes. My husband was pretty disappointed, but the trip itself was plenty rewarding, so he didn't stay down for long.</div>
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On the way to our next stop, we saw a band of wild horses! (Does 7 count as a band?) I like taking pictures of my husband taking pictures, because he's our photographer, and that's how we see him most often. But no, I don't have any pictures of the horses from his fancy camera, sorry. </div>
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If you zoom in really closely, you can see two of my family members hiking waaaaaaaaaaaaaay over there. This is the place where we found nothing. Not one single thing. It's called Topaz Mountain. We looked on a map when we got back to internet-land again, and we were probably one canyon away from where we wanted to be, but the sun was setting, and we needed to drive over an hour to get to our hotel in Delta. We were hoping to find crystals or gems or fossils, but not so much.</div>
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This is me looking waaaaaaaaaay over there. I accidentally took it when I thought the camera was pointing at a lizard on the ground, but I didn't hate it, so here it is. Yes, I'm also nerdy enough to wear the sunglasses-that-fit-over-my-regular-glasses. Desert hair, don't care!</div>
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This is my crew, who behaved better than normal because Grandpa's car has a DVD player in it.</div>
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We stopped off for dinner before bedtime, and one of us missed our sippy cup badly.</div>
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I just realized I didn't really get pictures of us splitting slate rocks to find trilobites (fossils). Oops. The thing is, we paid for two hours at that site, and we were pretty focused on gathering as much as we could. Listen, my husband and I are both quite "frugal." Not one-ply toilet paper cheap, but Use-it-up-wear-it-out, make-it-do-or-do-without cheap. It was kinda hard to pay kinda alot of money to dig in some rocks, but even WE thought it was so worth it in the end! I will be going to their website to leave an excellent review. After wandering around these other sites alone and unsure of how or where to find what we were after, it was such a relief to have extremely knowledgeable staff, and even a portable bathroom on the site! There was also a Chinese family there (who spoke English, as well), so my son got to use his skills from Dual Immersion Mandarin class to have a short conversation! (The mother was super impressed with his pronunciation, so high-five to the awesome teachers at our school!) But back to tri-lobe-ites!</div>
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This is what we were after. Trilobites! These are from the pre-Cambrian period, so basically dating to the time of PANGEA! (Hi, that's kinda the name of this blog, I was excited.) So back when this part of the Earth's crust was under ocean, these little guys would swim around! This picture is one Trilobite (on the left), and his imprint (on the right). The imprints aren't really worth anything, but it's fun to have both sides, in my opinion. So, if you are super careful, you can work the trilobite out of the surrounding rock, and even see the fossilized underside. If that sounds a little improper, so sorry.</div>
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These are some of the non-trilobite fossils we found. They are so tiny! Less than a half inch end to end. See if you can identify them on the fossil chart I posted above. The operators of the site said we were there at the best possible time of year, because after the winter, the slate is much easier to crack apart. After it bakes in the sun for a few months, it's apparently much more difficult to get to the fossils. It was so easy and fun! We got to take home anything we found during the two hours we paid for. We don't plan on selling any of ours, but I suppose there's a market for them. </div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VI9cpQDqezc/WNSfdlDUgWI/AAAAAAAAA0I/j-lkFC4MhDEfKzT0f_mUIY0yQQJwYgwsACLcB/s1600/IMG_20170320_191629104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VI9cpQDqezc/WNSfdlDUgWI/AAAAAAAAA0I/j-lkFC4MhDEfKzT0f_mUIY0yQQJwYgwsACLcB/s320/IMG_20170320_191629104.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here is our haul of fossils, waiting to be cleaned up, and maybe a few will get removed from the slate for display.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ycrGe-oPxkE/WNhLC8ttOWI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/8IRdk5UvLQII98lwpJcU7pJaLNeePigNQCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170317_115456492.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8JOhkjmYlCo/WNhLCyG-KfI/AAAAAAAAA1M/ZP2i_TCg9DYAgGVpdN3wid-c321qfF6hQCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170326_170645773.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8JOhkjmYlCo/WNhLCyG-KfI/AAAAAAAAA1M/ZP2i_TCg9DYAgGVpdN3wid-c321qfF6hQCLcB/s320/IMG_20170326_170645773.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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All this happened because this kid loves watching science shows.<br />
(And doesn't play soccer.) </div>
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We are living the dream, I tell you what! Life is so good.</div>
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HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-14612477392416793462017-03-08T22:41:00.001-08:002017-03-08T22:42:36.517-08:00Kitchen Renovation<br />
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<span style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;">Let me start by saying: I'm no Cook. Therefore, I did not choose any high-end anything for my kitchen, because food to me is just fuel so I can get back to wrangling kids, crafting or gardening. When we moved a year and a half ago, our new-to-us kitchen was smaller than the one we sold. It was also original to our new-to-us brick rambler built in 1977. Because I'm married to an extremely handy dude, we knew that we could make the kitchen into something we loved without breaking the bank (read between the lines: we are both tightwads). And so, I present our under $2000 kitchen makeover!</span></div>
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Here's the thing: You are expecting "before" pictures. But I don't have "before" pictures, because 1.)I hated the kitchen so bad I cropped it out whenever I could. 2.)We honestly don't spend most of our time there, but I have lots of shots in the living room! 3.)We kinda just got going on the renovation without cleaning up (as you can see). So enjoy these "during" pictures.<br />
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First up: We removed the bank of cabinets that throw shade on the entire countertop (they had doors on both sides).<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N8FvQDgSDbU/WMDUTPwxYMI/AAAAAAAAAwY/KjeEPSczm9M2BF3tnb8cefjKKPyu-5vQwCEw/s1600/IMG_20170215_204356413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N8FvQDgSDbU/WMDUTPwxYMI/AAAAAAAAAwY/KjeEPSczm9M2BF3tnb8cefjKKPyu-5vQwCEw/s320/IMG_20170215_204356413.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Next, we removed the empty box the cabinets were attached to. WHY was that even there? Were people in the 70's that much shorter?<br />
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Then we patched the holes left after removing the useless box. We relocated the flourescent lights to rooms that needed them, put beautiful fan/light fixutres up, and installed the old cabinets over my hard working husband's tool bench. Re-use it ALL, baby!<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MAemm6-JU-I/WMDhzzkgURI/AAAAAAAAAwk/j2tK23IAoXAVsr9mMm3gT6cvbM2KsmAaQCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170217_192057955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CyK7bazfZu8/WMDkxjTlxLI/AAAAAAAAAww/Jw2v8CrpQboUDGloJiewIXeXrMc2KA5qwCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170216_203949624.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CyK7bazfZu8/WMDkxjTlxLI/AAAAAAAAAww/Jw2v8CrpQboUDGloJiewIXeXrMc2KA5qwCLcB/s200/IMG_20170216_203949624.jpg" width="112" /></a><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MAemm6-JU-I/WMDhzzkgURI/AAAAAAAAAwk/j2tK23IAoXAVsr9mMm3gT6cvbM2KsmAaQCLcB/s320/IMG_20170217_192057955.jpg" width="320" /><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dgUku742QUI/WMDlRozMXQI/AAAAAAAAAw0/-JUx8oBtxncnbIhlUQH0i430BUQkfVeqgCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170218_105124958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dgUku742QUI/WMDlRozMXQI/AAAAAAAAAw0/-JUx8oBtxncnbIhlUQH0i430BUQkfVeqgCLcB/s200/IMG_20170218_105124958.jpg" width="112" /></a></div>
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My husband built all new upper cabinets from scratch. He chose MDF, and added 1/4" panels to the doors in the "Shaker" style. We used our car floor jack to help us mount them, because I'm not the burley broad I once was, and I'm the only help he's got.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uxDMB0vAlfU/WMDmNqEIInI/AAAAAAAAAxA/O52EDzjvlUUhQK3J54jyG84MEIIhtSyPACLcB/s1600/IMG_20170220_095914_607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uxDMB0vAlfU/WMDmNqEIInI/AAAAAAAAAxA/O52EDzjvlUUhQK3J54jyG84MEIIhtSyPACLcB/s320/IMG_20170220_095914_607.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The back of the cabinets is beadboard, and he scored BIG by finding 5 gallons of mistinted white paint for only $15! We added a few strips of 1/4" to the back of the snack bar, just for interest. I did most of the painting during my mini-tornado's naptime. Somewhere in here, we added crown molding around the top of all the uppers, but you'll have to look for it in a later picture.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1ChHNOIj8J8/WMDpfWFXyZI/AAAAAAAAAxM/bLcFSKzY7y87YYF36I4h4K4Q1rsLG5wZQCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170225_131903343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1ChHNOIj8J8/WMDpfWFXyZI/AAAAAAAAAxM/bLcFSKzY7y87YYF36I4h4K4Q1rsLG5wZQCLcB/s320/IMG_20170225_131903343.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Having a big project to focus on helped keep the S.A.D. (seasonal affective disorder or "winter blues") away. But using our garage as a woodworking and painting workshop was slightly challenging, since the paint required 60 degree temps for proper use. We fully insulated the garage right after moving in, so we left our poor cars out in the snow while we used heaters to make a good painting environment.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gi-8iOcEsrg/WMDsBnuli9I/AAAAAAAAAxY/YKSxwVYIzjMV52hESfsBPMHM2VzJGpEUgCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170225_230110398.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gi-8iOcEsrg/WMDsBnuli9I/AAAAAAAAAxY/YKSxwVYIzjMV52hESfsBPMHM2VzJGpEUgCLcB/s320/IMG_20170225_230110398.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The old drawers had lots of wasted space, so my Handyman decided to build those all new. We also made new doors for the lower cabinets, but we didn't demolish the main frame of the lowers. We did, however, spend a bit of time and effort evening them out, fixing gaps, and adding shelving inside them. I even got away with painting in the Living Room one night when all four of my monsters were sleeping.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6z40CJC5IPM/WMDtaQkDrcI/AAAAAAAAAxo/6DtrjGSnBwsyEcQyepXjMWwro4f9bKDPQCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170302_180337250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6z40CJC5IPM/WMDtaQkDrcI/AAAAAAAAAxo/6DtrjGSnBwsyEcQyepXjMWwro4f9bKDPQCLcB/s200/IMG_20170302_180337250.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-irD676gbEKc/WMDtaWKBN-I/AAAAAAAAAxk/ybrBa_ly_fE3gXpjHKTFD28SP6RBDvsHACLcB/s1600/IMG_20170301_223412040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-irD676gbEKc/WMDtaWKBN-I/AAAAAAAAAxk/ybrBa_ly_fE3gXpjHKTFD28SP6RBDvsHACLcB/s200/IMG_20170301_223412040.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Then we took a deeeeeep breath and dove into the countertops! I was ready to put up a fight to get what I thought I wanted (solid surface...no laminate!). But my husband fights dirty, and bribed me with a new sewing machine if I would agree to laminate that didn't look like laminate, but was 1/10th the price of other options. I remind you again, I don't cook, but I do sew. If I cooked well or often, high end finishes might make sense. So... we made our own countertops with *gasp* laminate... that looks like marble, and used special bullnosed edging made to match.</div>
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Goodbye yellow... the color of Jaundice! (reference to a comedy sketch by Studio C)</div>
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Goobye permanently stained sink and faucet that no longer swiveled!</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fAr5W1M75l4/WMDvcfZH5EI/AAAAAAAAAx0/ZJBDvyUggQYXivSI-TWzYdgI_Mwycd77gCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170303_183552_345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fAr5W1M75l4/WMDvcfZH5EI/AAAAAAAAAx0/ZJBDvyUggQYXivSI-TWzYdgI_Mwycd77gCLcB/s320/IMG_20170303_183552_345.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cut and "dry-fit" the substrate (particle board).</div>
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Cut laminate to match substrate.</div>
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Glue the two layers together and roll out the air bubbles. Another go with the router to make all edges perfectly square.</div>
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Install the behemoth pieces and then add the rounded edging.</div>
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Finished countertop! The reinforcing tape just held the edges while the adhesive dried. It looks so much better than I feared it would, The white reflects even more light from the tube skylight we installed</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--10kFshPwqs/WMDyGlAP8KI/AAAAAAAAAyU/wl6-CjQNNygA9t2QYx7r1MchcQ4h1Qj1QCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170305_210621626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--10kFshPwqs/WMDyGlAP8KI/AAAAAAAAAyU/wl6-CjQNNygA9t2QYx7r1MchcQ4h1Qj1QCLcB/s320/IMG_20170305_210621626.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I got all the handles a few years ago at a thrift store...brand new in the package. All the ones we needed plus MANY more cost me just $28! Thank you to whomever donated them! Also, I HATED the floors and was sure I wanted them sanded and stained darker. But now...I like them! They are staying light. This whole project transformed a very dark, gloomy kitchen into a room so bright during the day that I don't even need lights.</div>
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I stole this next little trick from my in-laws. Tilt-out panels in front of the sink! I love them. A little place to keep scrubbers and such, so they can be out of sight but still handy.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MGvkXdCfTnQ/WMDyGKvtuuI/AAAAAAAAAyc/lQNePNhaAVcnS9a7aCBWTUTd938S8M-uwCEw/s1600/IMG_20170306_222142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MGvkXdCfTnQ/WMDyGKvtuuI/AAAAAAAAAyc/lQNePNhaAVcnS9a7aCBWTUTd938S8M-uwCEw/s320/IMG_20170306_222142.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Lastly, we installed a backsplash. I fell in love with what is actually a floor tile. It's made of porcelain, but screen printed to look like weathered barn wood. My maternal grandparents lived on a dairy farm in Ucon, Idaho, and every building on their property had beautiful old-looking wood like this someplace on it. I know Farmhouse style is popular right now, but I love it because it feels like I'm honoring my roots. I will still love it long after it's not trendy anymore. The tile still needs to be grouted, but today is the day I decided to blog, so... no grout!</div>
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That's the end of my kitchen renovation story. It's not glamorous. It's not expensive. But it now feels LIGHT. It feels calm. That's what I need from my space, and I'm so humbled my man worked so hard alongside me to make it happen. I'm so very blessed. </div>
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Simple Abundance!</div>
HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-41179058323363626172017-01-30T18:34:00.000-08:002017-01-30T20:07:00.800-08:00Facebook FastI recently did the unthinkable. I went for 5 days straight without checking my only active social media feed. I was neither camping, nor was my phone broken. I did it on purpose, or rather, FOR a purpose. The purpose was to reboot my brain.<br />
<div>
<br />
<br />
Wading through my social feed during my country's Presidential elections was mentally exhausting, to say the least.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qVC1U2-4g_M/WI_0kXRQh7I/AAAAAAAAAvY/Y6G-kivgQYorY3taREWbrcNlTJpgXpruQCLcB/s1600/Swamp_of_Sadness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qVC1U2-4g_M/WI_0kXRQh7I/AAAAAAAAAvY/Y6G-kivgQYorY3taREWbrcNlTJpgXpruQCLcB/s1600/Swamp_of_Sadness.jpg" /></a>1980's kids like myself will remember the part in the movie "Neverending Story" where Atreyu loses his best friend (and horse, Artax) in the Swamp of Sadness. If you don't remember it, here's a refresher: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y688upqmRXo">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y688upqmRXo</a><br />
This is what I felt like as I watched everyone fight about candidates and policies. Then the election was over, and I was hoping to take a deep breath and keep moving forward. Instead, everything got even messier. I have no doubt it would have been messy in a different way had the other candidate won. Long story short, I realized a week ago that I was mentally DROWNING in conflict. I could tell that many Americans were also finding themselves in the "Swamp of Sadness." My efforts at trying to be cheerful and pull my friends out of the mud were like Atreyu's efforts, except even less successful. I needed a break, I took one, and here's a few things I learned:<br />
<br />
<b><u>Even if I control much of what I see on my social media feed, it is never going to be a bias-free/safe zone.</u></b> For years now, I have given up on watching any broadcast television news whatsoever. I (perhaps foolishly) thought my social media feed would give me all the "news" I needed in order to stay aware of my surroundings and advocate for worthy causes. I thought I could choose to hear only from sources with whom I agreed on key points. Instead, I found myself losing respect for some of my friends, and also wondering which of my friends were losing respect for me. That's not why I originally chose to participate in social media, and taking a break helped me remember why I did/do.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><u>It's such a miracle to communicate instantaneously accross the globe. It's a privilege, an honor. It comes with responsibility.</u> </b>I want to spread kindness. I want to multiply the goodness in the world. I need to do better and be more choosy about what I share. I need to type out the compliments I think in my mind when I read a friend's status.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hQwNLCaSzec/WI_tP3YWzbI/AAAAAAAAAvE/PaU3u55XR048AZL7JtP1IaX3d828dcLvQCLcB/s1600/IMG_20170126_115207112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hQwNLCaSzec/WI_tP3YWzbI/AAAAAAAAAvE/PaU3u55XR048AZL7JtP1IaX3d828dcLvQCLcB/s200/IMG_20170126_115207112.jpg" width="111" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My children prounouce it "toilet trees."<br />
They think they are hilarious.<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><u>I have plenty of time to do what I need to do.</u></b> While taking my break, I made an effort to replace my usual social media time with worthy activities that I have been telling myself I don't have time for. For instance, I got some Family History out. I'm getting more familiar with navigating <a href="http://www.familysearch.org/">www.familysearch.org</a> . Reading about my ancestors' lives reminded me to catch up on my own journal writing. I prepared a 72 hour kit of food and toiletries for my family of 6, as suggested on <a href="https://www.ready.gov/kit">https://www.ready.gov/kit</a> . I spent even more time with family members, both immediate and extended. I read books; some to myself, some to my little monsters. I took care of myself. It was so much more pleasant than I feared it would be in the beginning.<br />
<br />
<b><u>God is in control.</u></b> That is so easy to forget when I read more words from humans in a day than I do from His words. Have I made it obvious to Him that I choose to be on His team regardless of what the scoreboard reads at any given point? I can do better at that, for sure.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-48399492287211499422016-11-11T17:10:00.000-08:002016-11-11T17:38:54.767-08:00This Is My Protest.I was waiting in the car while my husband and daughter were checking out what the redbox had to offer our evening. As I watched people leaving McDonald's, I was struck by some very small things that really add up to very big things.<br />
<br />
One mother of a 4-ish year old had to cross the path of the drive-thru to get her and her child to their vehicle. The child got distracted and lingered in the path of the oncoming cars. I expected the Mom to help the child hurry out of the dangerous place. But instead, she stood there watching the child play, and waited until the child came to the car on her own. Bear with me before you start telling me all the ways I'm judging this mom, who may have had great reasons for allowing her child to do whatever she wanted.<br />
<br />
The next two people to catch my attention were a mother and son (I assume by their ages and familiarity with one another), the boy looked to be about 10. He had trash in his hand from his meal, and tossed it on an outdoor table as they walked by it. She saw him toss it, but both carried on their way.<br />
<br />
This is more than just "I would have parented these children differently." This is an entire generation of parents who never do anything that is against their child's will. I can't say what has caused so many people to completely misunderstand the job description of "parent," but I can see that it is leading to the behavior we're seeing in the post-election protests. Tossing your trash anywhere you please is a small sign of the bigger problem that "someone else will take care of it." Waiting for your child to allow you to load them in the car is a small sign of the bigger problem that "you can do whatever you want, I'm here to serve you, not teach you."<br />
<br />
I chose to take part in a post-election political survey that called my cell phone. I am ever so grateful that Statistics was a required class for my Undergraduate Degree, because it taught me how easily numbers can be manipulated to make it look like a desired outcome was achieved, and how the exact wording of survey questions can sway the results drastically. I am convinced that this particular survey was funded by someone who is in favor of the protests currently happening. I spent twenty minutes answering questions like whether I had "warm" or "cold" feelings about students having to pay back their college debt. Whether I thought Immigrants(I even made the caller repeat to clarify that he said Immigrants only, with no regard to whether he meant legal ones, or not) added to the cultural diversity of America. I chose from intentionally confusing lists about what exactly I do or don't like about Hillary and Trump. They wanted to know my race, ethnicity, religion, age, and so on. I understand there can be value in data and information collection, but the extreme manipulation of that information has become EXTREMELY out-of-hand.<br />
<br />
I feel the professional media is manipulating information and spreading more hate than anything Trump has said or done. The media tells us a Trump presidency will cause hatred to grow. What I'm seeing is that the media is what's causing hate to grow.<br />
(I know good people that work for my local media, and they are not personally to blame.)<br />
<br />
I can say that even the "conservative" news channels are far from representative of my views. But you know what? That's OKAY. I can choose not to watch them. I can choose to seek out opinions I agree with. I can choose what stories I strive to share on my social media to spread awareness. I can choose what my children learn while they live in my home. I'm frustrated because this attitude seems to be vanishing. It seems that most people just watch the news and go along with whatever society is feeding them at the moment. That is NOT okay.<br />
<br />
Let's see what happens if we turn off the news and go outside of ourselves and BE KIND to other humans. If you are Muslim, and you are always kind, good things will happen, If you are not Muslim, but you are always kind to Muslims, good things will happen. Same goes for immigrants and women and any other people feeling unsafe "because of Trump." Go be kind. Staying inside your house because you are scared is a perfect way to keep you from being kind. Don't let it! When the news starts reporting on people doing KIND things and IGNORING the people doing hateful things, we'll know we're really getting someplace.<br />
As for me and my house, we are going to go out of our way to be kind, kinder, and kindest. Please join us! #thisismyprotest #makeAmericakindagain<br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pW_ioWEIdT8/WCZyb4-FxrI/AAAAAAAAAuo/9YGopZATljwCmGM9z6rcVCDfchD7ArkrQCK4B/s1600/leaves.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pW_ioWEIdT8/WCZyb4-FxrI/AAAAAAAAAuo/9YGopZATljwCmGM9z6rcVCDfchD7ArkrQCK4B/s320/leaves.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Today, our kindness was that we raked leaves for a friend who had shoulder surgery and couldn't do it herself. Comment with YOUR kindnesses!HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-51204057821875566822016-09-25T21:58:00.001-07:002016-09-25T21:58:31.916-07:00I AM a good mom.This is the kitchen of a really good Mom.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VwQgcFUQivc/V-iooxgVOmI/AAAAAAAAAuI/iKGB48ffP1sLg_i7CsKJjjn9KQEmrygfgCK4B/s1600/IMG_20160925_224414783.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VwQgcFUQivc/V-iooxgVOmI/AAAAAAAAAuI/iKGB48ffP1sLg_i7CsKJjjn9KQEmrygfgCK4B/s320/IMG_20160925_224414783.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
I have always been a good mom. When I had one child, her face stayed clean, and so did my house. I taught her to say "Please" and "Thank you." She practically potty-trained herself at barely two years old. She was never a picky eater. She let me fix her hair. "I" did so awesome (I thought these things were because of me, anyway. The naivete is amusing to me now.).<br />
<br />
I was still a good mom when I had two kids. I helped them quickly and constructively fix their disagreements. I could get the dishes and laundry caught up most every day. He was a pickier eater, and more emotional than I expected from a boy, but I still did so awesome.<br />
<br />
Then three. I still did awesome with three kids. Although I was thrilled that the older two were such good friends, it became clear that someone was always "odd man out." Either the boys played together, or the older kids played together, or sister held the baby. So, of course, I had one more.<br />
<br />
I have four kids, and I am an awesome mom. One or two rooms in my house are always carpeted with clean/and/or/dirty laundry. Sometimes I am inspired to get the dishes done because they sat so long that they smell bad. I don't get to see my Mom-friends (definition of Mom-friend: friends that this mom has, not that they have to BE moms to qualify), because I can't invite them into my mess. Unless...<br />
<br />
Unless I can see that my Mom-friends are awesome... and flawed. I don't have the energy or time to be perfect anymore. If I sense that someone is going to make me work to find out their flaws, or hope that I never find them, then I just can't. If they be real, be "brutifully" honest, be messy in front of me, then I will honor them immediately.<br />
<br />
I don't do cutesy hair, or get manicures, or shop as a hobby. I don't mind if they do, but I need to know they are okay to move a pile of school papers in order to sit on my couch and take in the view of abandoned, wadded-up socks, occasional kid underwear and prolific cracker crumbs without vomiting either for real or in their head.<br />
<br />
I am such an awesome mom, and an awesome friend. That's why my house looks like this. I spend what precious little energy God has blessed me with on PEOPLE. On RELATIONSHIPS. I will be there for you when you need to vent, I will answer your text in the middle of the night, and I will even help you advance to the next level in Candy Crush. I'm often afraid people can't see how awesome I am under all the mess. So I'm going to start telling it to myself: "I am awesome."<br />
<br />
My family has been having a crisis-level drought of positive self-talk. It has to end. And the good has to start. And it starts with me. I will not be a good mom "someday," or "when my kids are older and my house is cleaner." I am a good mom today.<br />
<br />
***I would love to hear in the comments ways you promote positive self-talk in your home, 'cuz you know if I take to Pinterest about it, I will leave there thinking I'm the only flawed Mom left on the planet!HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-3266882723705956552016-05-27T15:07:00.000-07:002016-05-27T15:07:39.596-07:00Blessed to have Anxiety<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I’ve had some dear friends ask my thoughts about a mom in Utah (where I live, too) that struggled with post-partum depression, just like I do. My thoughts might
help others, so feel free to share.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Please start by reading the following article about Emily Dyches.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865654819/A-familys-faith-and-a-mothers-legacy-shines-through-The-Emily-Effect.html">http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865654819/A-familys-faith-and-a-mothers-legacy-shines-through-The-Emily-Effect.html</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">First of all, I love that her family had already tried lots of
things to help her. They were aware of the problem, and doing all they could. I
feel lucky that after the first time, I could anticipate my Post-partum
Depression (PPD). This woman had never had any until her 5th child. She
couldn't have "seen it coming."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Secondly, I love that her family offered very specific ideas on
what could have been improved in her care, like a way for her to continue
nursing her baby while in a treatment facility. That will make the future
better for other moms. From my first experience with PPD in 2007 to my fourth
go this last year (2015-16), perinatal mental health has improved drastically. My
kids’ pediatrician gives ME a mental health evaluation, and sends it to MY doctor,
because he sees me for kid check-ups sooner than I see my own doctor, and
because my health is directly related to my kids’ health. My OB’s group added a
Psychologist and Psychiatrist to their group of doctors, and gave them office
space in the same place I went to all my prenatal appointments. That was huge.
No insurance haggling about coverage, no stigma that mental health is “different”
from physical health, no finding a new office in an unfamiliar building.
Knowing that I was a very high risk for PPD, my OB sent me home from the
hospital with a higher dose of antidepressants. She didn’t wait for
it to get bad, or expect me to come find her to ask for help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">A word on panic attacks: Emily Dyches’ panic attack caused her
life to be taken, much like a heart attack might have done. She was not in
control of herself. She herself did not take her own life. That is a truth for
their family, and we should respect that. Panic attacks for me are not like
they show them on TV. Usually on TV, a person experiencing a panic attack is
doubled over, hyperventilating and unable to move or interact with their
environment. It usually lasts for a few minutes. For me, it means sometimes I have
constricted breathing (a little less severe than hyperventilating), and I cannot
stop my racing thoughts long enough to accomplish any non-essential task. It
lasts hours, and often an entire day, sometimes several days. I'm glad I have
minimal functionality during panic attack days (some people have none): the
kids get fed, they are not in danger, but I let them have what is probably far
too much electronics time in one day, in order to keep them low-maintenance,
since I am somewhat out-of-order for the time being. Sometimes I am on Facebook
far too much, but it's one of the easiest ways I’ve found to distract my brain
and try to find positive thoughts to focus on. Putting my kids to bed makes me
irritable beyond reason on these days, and I feel guilty/depressed that they
will have those kind of memories of me. On occasion, during a panic attack, I
have suicidal thoughts. I can’t say the best way to deal with those for
everyone else, since I’m not a mental health professional. For me, I
acknowledge that I have had them, tell someone I’ve had them, then do anything
I can to keep my brain from dwelling on them, making sure never to stay alone
when having them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">My housekeeping suffers horribly on panic attack days, and
sometimes for days afterward because it all seems so overwhelming. My husband
is wonderful at pitching in, and especially at helping me be kind to myself
about the condition of our home. But... he's been working late, and taking on
numerous other responsibilities. He's exhausted. My one-year-old still wakes me
nearly every night, sometimes multiple times. I'm exhausted. We're sanitary,
but cluttered. We're fine; this is "normal." This is temporary. Humans can endure extraordinary hardships when they know it is temporary. I
have my older kids (9, 6, 3) doing daily chores, which eases my burden.
Luckily, we don't have many visitors to our home. I'm so thankful that my husband is
willing to be so kind about coming home to chaos. He sweeps the kids up and
keeps them happily occupied while I have a few moments to recover before the [stupid] bedtime routines start.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">The other difficulty with panic attacks is social situations. I
can fake like I'm fine during family parties, teaching a lesson at church and
other events, but when I come home, my body instigates it's "fight or
flight" response. Church exhausts me every single week, even when I don't
teach. When leaving social gatherings, I often feel lame if no one spoke a word
to me voluntarily, but then I also fret when I do hold a conversation and think
of all that I should and should not have said. Again... fine during the actual
situation, but panicked afterward, usually into the next day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">With all the over-thinking I do, I have found many blessings in
having such a "condition." The biggest of which is how utterly
fortunate I am to have the companion I do. I didn't know I was already
struggling with Anxiety when we got married, and sometimes I don't feel like
I'm the same person he thought he was getting. I know he hates watching me
struggle, and I love how he encourages me at every turn. The newest front on
this battle is identifying signs of Anxiety in our kids and figuring out what
to do about it. I'm so glad it’s this struggle for us, because there are so
many involuntary trials that are so much worse. I'm so glad that doctors are
getting more educated, and people are slowly getting over the stigma of mental
illness. Medicine helps me, and I'm thankful to live in a time in history when
it's available.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">To my friends who have read this huge long thing: Thank you for
being aware. Thank you for reaching out to me.
Anxiety and Depression brings all new meaning to the phrase, "one day at a time."
Sometimes it's one hour or one minute at a time. But having someone validate
that what I'm doing is hard, and tell me I'm doing a good job makes all the
difference. Thanks for that, too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Lots of Love,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Angela<o:p></o:p></span></div>
HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-9500880684071763052014-01-06T15:41:00.002-08:002014-01-06T15:41:46.049-08:00Do Mondays have to be so awful?<br />
I know it's pretty normal for Mondays to be the dreaded-est day of the week. But they have become so awful for me that I get cranky for hours before bed on Sunday night just because it's almost Monday. We have Family Night on Mondays, and I often ruin the spirit of unity we ought to be feeling because I've just "had it" with the day. This has to stop! <br />
<br />
For my version of "resolutions" for 2014, I'd like to try and improve my outlook on this wretched day of the week. I think I need something to look forward to each week. What usually lifts my spirits is making someone else happy somehow. It would be easy to say I'll "do something nice for someone" every Monday. But I know me, and I'll probably get away with as little effort as possible, such as mustering an extra smile at some other parent while picking up my daughter from school. Or count any number of tasks I do for my family, anyway. There are times these types of small tasks do lift another person's spirit, but if I want a noticeably happier Monday, I need to step up the service a notch or ten. <br />
<br />
I'm going to make the goal more specific; that I have to do something out-of-the-ordinary for someone who doesn't live with me. I have a friend to be accountable to, but I won't likely post every nice thing I do, because it pretty much feels like bragging. <br />
<br />
The only other goal I am making for the year is to relocate all of my fabric totes to my crafting/sewing area of the house, not in my kids' rooms. I am about half way to this goal already, but it really may take the rest of the year to finish it up! :)<br />
<br />
I am always appreciative of any ideas or tips you would like to leave in the comments!HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-58836477500291248722013-08-03T22:06:00.000-07:002013-08-03T22:06:37.508-07:00Here's Me Getting Over It!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“That’s quite the bunkbed!”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That quote comes from the appraiser for our recent
refinance. I’m sure he sees ALL SORTS of stuff walking around in the most
intimate spaces of strangers. Here’s a picture, so you can see why he said
that. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RhI8BliW8xk/Uf3fi-WsHZI/AAAAAAAAAPs/Ls-MeWc6Qm4/s1600/bunkbed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RhI8BliW8xk/Uf3fi-WsHZI/AAAAAAAAAPs/Ls-MeWc6Qm4/s640/bunkbed.jpg" width="396" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span> </div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">My husband built them. We wanted the bottom bunk
not to feel claustrophobic, even when including the box springs. But that put
the top bunk with the ceiling fan in head-striking distance. So he built a
guard rail to keep my daughter’s head clear of the blades when they were
turning. I know it looks ridiculous, but it works. I was proud of it, but I
couldn’t post a picture on my social media page. Want to know why? Because I
was embarrassed. Not of the bed. Of the storage I keep in my kids’ room. Almost
a third of their bedroom is taken up by food storage, fabric storage, and our
board game storage. Not to mention that we built bunkbeds because we HAD to. We
needed more kids in less space. Is this normal? Well, according to catalogs,
blogs, and my own friends’ posts on social media, it’s not normal. Normal is a
kid’s room with only kids’ belongings in it, and their name painted,
embroidered or decaled on numerous items around the room. It’s curtains that
match the paint and bedspreads, and only enough toys to fit neatly inside small
and cutely decorated storage bins. It’s clothing that matches and has never
been worn by anyone else (no hand-me-downs). I do not live in that world. But
yet I’m shallow enough that I don’t want everyone to see that I don’t. I didn’t
post that picture before because I didn’t want to be seen as “ghetto” or
“redneck.” Well, here’s me getting over it. We are a happy family, even without
matching décor.</span>HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-12976833294909132092013-04-28T16:39:00.000-07:002013-04-28T16:39:01.038-07:0010 Years Towards Eternity
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My family is sacred to me. I know that for everyone, this is
not the case. I know people that cringe at a thought we often celebrate in our
Church, “Families are Forever.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
reasons are far and wide that cause families not to enjoy each other in this
life, and even more numerous factors cause discomfort at the thought of
spending eternity together. But I can’t speak to that. I can only speak of my
own experience. And in my experience, family is sacred, and is worth
celebrating.</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This week holds the 10<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup> Anniversary of the day
my husband and I began our family. While our family began with just the two of
us making vows that day, we always intended to bring children into our home. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We like to feel that each member of our family
is someone we invited to be with us. We have spent a relatively short 34 months
of our marriage in hopes of becoming pregnant without being able to. During
those times, we have gained some precious perspective on what it means to bring
(or invite) children into our family. NOTHING is more important to us. It is
sacred.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m quite sure my attitudes and opinions have lots of
maturing to do; which will no doubt happen while my children are doing their own
maturing and choice-making. But from the milestone I sit at now, with 10 years
towards eternity behind me, I AM excited that “Families are Forever.” I love my
husband so much, but this anniversary, I feel more like celebrating the family
we have built together; not just taking a “break” from our kids like they are a
burden. We are so thankful for every person in our family, and we ALL deserve
the party!</span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gP7x17rjKXs/UX2yU09acWI/AAAAAAAAAPM/YogpPUQYeoE/s1600/IMG_4827.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gP7x17rjKXs/UX2yU09acWI/AAAAAAAAAPM/YogpPUQYeoE/s320/IMG_4827.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
(This is us in 2006, just months before welcoming our first child into our family!)</div>
HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-4305078035263728112013-04-14T19:53:00.002-07:002013-04-14T20:20:24.062-07:00Tips for quilting with young children<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tips for quilting with young children</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">By Angela Hunsaker</span><br />
<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3MtinbiOWUA/UWtwaWbDU0I/AAAAAAAAAO0/7-finI71Np8/s1600/chevron+quilt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3MtinbiOWUA/UWtwaWbDU0I/AAAAAAAAAO0/7-finI71Np8/s320/chevron+quilt.jpg" width="199" /></a></div>
I made that cool almost-quilt top. It needs a few more rows to be long enough for a twin batting, but I'm putting it away for awhile. Why? Because I have kids. I jest for most of this post about the difficulties of children, but please don't skip the last paragraph with a meaningful quote. I'm putting this away so I can be a "nice mommy" again. They deserve it. :) <br />
<br />
Now, on with the TIPS!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fabric hoarding is good, because… (if you’re already
laughing, bear with me!) then when you want to make something, you don’t have
to strap everyone in their carseats with snacks and extra clothing, to get to
the store and strap them to the cart while you wait to have your fabric cut,
then pass the gauntlet called the checkout line where all manner of product
that is brightly colored and sized for small hands is within reach.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Don’t pre-wash your fabric, because you’ll undoubtedly have
at least one re-wash before you even get it cut out.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Buy scissors that are ugly colors, or the same color as a
surface high above their heads. Camouflage has long been proven an effective tool
against meddling enemies. Same goes for ugly color pinheads and extremely
un-fun-looking pincushions (i.e.: the bright red ball-shaped tomatoes…not so
much!).</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Once you lay out your pieces, sew them together as FAST as
is humanly possible. This will prevent the “Red Sea effect.” This is caused by
an irresistible urge that children feel to scoot their feet through your
pieces, then turn around and giggle at the trail of destruction they are
making.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is permissible to
prescribe “quiet time” to the children so that you may sew an entire row of
blocks together without someone shouting your name to help them in the
bathroom.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is also permissible to pretend you can’t hear them over
the sound of the sewing machine, as long as what they are saying does not involve
the words “bleeding,” “naked,” “choking” or “head trauma.”</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You MUST be willing to accept the consequences of diminished
attention to the children and housework. That may include, but is not limited
to: marker and/or stickers where they don’t belong, a knee-deep “primordial
soup” composed of every toy and snack they could possibly reach, and for a
finale: every couch cushion and pillow piled in a mountain for breaking falls while
jumping off the arms of the couch.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Take it slow. Sometimes I only allow myself 3 seams per day.
Even when they are 4-inch seams. I figure at least 60 seconds of “sewing
therapy” is better than none. I use the same trick for weeding the garden.
Although, three weeds per day doesn’t feel nearly as much like progress as
three seams. Maybe that’s because if you leave a quilt for a week, the un-sewn
seams don’t multiply themselves.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lastly, remember that while we sometimes need some time to
ourselves, a wise man recently said, “Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a
calling. It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in. It is what
God gave you time for.” (-Neil L. Anderson) Hobbies do not take priority over
motherhood.</span></div>
HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-80449395286921490412012-12-13T09:29:00.002-08:002012-12-13T09:32:39.721-08:00Poetry by MePolish Me
<br />
by Angela Hunsaker (Copyright 2012)
<br />
<br />
To look upon a polished stone
<br />
And wonder what travail its known.
<br />
<br />
It's sharpness on the bed is scattered;
<br />
Such beauty comes from being battered.
<br />
<br />
To fully of the sheen partake,
<br />
A comparison I yearn to make.
<br />
<br />
Yet coupled they will ne'er be- <br />
the jagged rock and the stone I see.
<br />
<br />
The edges lost forever more
<br />
Will never leave the soggy floor.
<br />
<br />
Mourn them not tho' they be spent,
<br />
For no purpose truer could they be lent.
<br />
<br />
Shrunk and torn this pebble may seem,
<br />
Yet glorious its newfound gleam.
<br />
<br />
For it shall shine in that great day
<br />
When wickedness will lose the fray.
<br />
<br />
The more of smoothness shall be found
<br />
The more the jewels within thy crown.
<br />
<br />
So grateful we will ever be
<br />
For every grinding force we see.HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-70220826586842515502012-03-21T10:16:00.001-07:002012-03-21T10:19:57.562-07:00...consequences footnoteWhile talking to several friends yesterday, I think I finally figured out what I really mean to say regarding consequences: <br /><br />I feel bad when people turn away from God because of mistakes I make. There have been times that I haven't responded the way someone expected me to as a member of a Christian church, and it further embitters them toward anything to do with religion. And in order to be able to live with myself after such circumstances, I have been led to a greater understanding of Agency. It could be seen as my refusing to take responsibility for my actions, but what I truly feel is that I'm refusing to take responsibility for THEIR actions.<br />Comments are always welcome...HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-46565298262976545952012-03-18T22:19:00.004-07:002012-03-18T23:15:47.105-07:00i believe in consequencesQuite often, a life that appears to outsiders to be "easy" or "perfect" is the result of years and decades of coming in last in the eyes of the world. Truly, there is no one with an easy or perfect life. Choosing the right is hard. And there is no substitute for it. <br /><br />Sometimes we all find people in our lives who seem to have the opposite of an easy or perfect life. An unusual amount of hardship seems to befall some people, with no easy explanation why. However, they too are faced with a choice. There are volumes written about the fact that we choose how to react to hardship. But in my thoughts tonight, I am thinking about those who fail to recognize that some hardship is a consequence of previous choices. I don't want that to sound too condemning. It is hard for most all of us to look at hardship with fair eyes. In other words, no one ever purposely seeks hardship, or enjoys it. Not all hardship is self-inflicted. It is often difficult to connect the lines between choices and consequences when years expire between the two. But that doesn't make our accountability escapable.<br /><br />I'm pretty sure this isn't making much sense, but what I'm getting at is that I'm in a position where I feel a great concern for friends who are struggling with life. I can listen to what struggles they are enduring, but it's kind of excruciating not to be able to help AT ALL. Sometimes the only way a pitfall can be overcome is by avoiding it in the first place. I cannot take away the consequences of decisions made years ago, or even a week ago. <br /><br />I get especially concerned over the lack of care taken by many when choosing whom to marry. That is not to say that many people do take great care in their choice, only to find disappointment in the future choices their spouse makes. It is, however, a reality that anyone who chooses to marry will find the rest of their lives altered by that person for good and for bad. I had to involve God very heavily in my decision on whom to marry, in order to have the courage to go forward with it. <br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gp2wQzvU1ec/T2bLevmaGwI/AAAAAAAAAOo/J-E-Z0dyFRY/s1600/IMG_1171.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gp2wQzvU1ec/T2bLevmaGwI/AAAAAAAAAOo/J-E-Z0dyFRY/s320/IMG_1171.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5721484105654868738" /></a> Here is a picture of my family last year in Hawaii. I have a "PERFECT" (for me) husband, but like I said, it was a long road of many difficult choices in order to "earn" him.<br /><br /><br />I believe God wants us to marry and have families, and that He will be as involved in all of our decisions as we allow Him to be. Family can be the greatest joy EVER in life. Sadly, it is too often the source of the greatest sorrow. I believe the secret to the joyful kind of family is in the nitty gritty moment-to-moment decisons we all make. We have to constantly think of consequences, short-term and long-term, and let ourselves be guided by that "spark" of God that every human is born with. That means sometimes looking like a nerd or a weirdo. It means I can't always explain myself to others. It means I feel left out and embarrassed and afraid during some of the most important times in my life. But none of that matters when I know I am pleasing God. His relationsip and approval are my goal, and the thing I treasure MOST from my association and membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know Him. I know He knows me. That spark of God everyone has is amplified enormously with the authority of the Priesthood to bless me with the Holy Spirit as my constant guide in life. I wouldn't have any of that without being taught by many others who have found the same thing through His gospel. I heard someone today witness the same thing; although he had been raised Baptist and spoke of not feeling a closeness with an "everywhere and nowhere" God. He now knows, and I know- that God is near us, and that we have a purpose in being on this earth. Part of that purpose is to understand consequences, and to prove ourselves in making choices.HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-68214667091400976422011-10-23T19:00:00.000-07:002011-10-23T20:05:37.722-07:00i believe God created our earth<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oXhyedJE5dk/TqTVWit882I/AAAAAAAAAOY/6RrRdnGP8eo/s1600/galaxy.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 190px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oXhyedJE5dk/TqTVWit882I/AAAAAAAAAOY/6RrRdnGP8eo/s320/galaxy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666888814392308578" /></a>I love watching science and historical shows on tv. The other night, one was talking about a new telescope that is however-many-times more powerful than Hubble. I found myself glued to the program, especially since there were no commercials, and it got more and more fascinating. Though scientists sometimes feel religion can't possibly account for the evidence they find, I was having a very different experience. "Worlds without number" that God showed Moses, and the promise of becoming gods and goddesses ourselves seemed so positively possible that I got chills. <br /><br />In searching lds.org for the scriptural reference to "worlds without number," I found this very interesting talk (published in April 1971, relatively soon after man walked on the moon): https://lds.org/new-era/1971/04/people-on-other-worlds?cid=email-shared&lang=eng Yes, I am lame enough that I can't get this to turn into a link, so please paste to a browser for full viewing enjoyment!<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NizlrRlI0pw/TqTU3E_6dtI/AAAAAAAAAOM/XIIbte1yYYM/s1600/quantum%2Bphysics.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NizlrRlI0pw/TqTU3E_6dtI/AAAAAAAAAOM/XIIbte1yYYM/s320/quantum%2Bphysics.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666888273838634706" /></a>Another night, I saw a show w/Mr. Hawking, explaining Quantum Physics, and how they prove there is no God. I may not have the vocabulary to express it adequately, but I belive, deep down in my being, that the ultimate explanation requires God to be in the equation of creation. And yet, I also believe that the Creator works with a set of rules for matter that are His powerful tools, not restrictions on His Almighty-ness. I'm really glad there are some things He has seen fit not to reveal to humans while they are mortal. I can barely handle Calculus with this brain. My ressurected version is very likely to have some upgrades.HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-35840655457013716452011-10-19T21:56:00.000-07:002011-10-19T22:25:07.807-07:00i believe God talks to humankindToday I was reminded how merciful God is to communicate with each of us individually. There are so many "voices" in the world that seem to either encourage or discourage us along our journey in life. But none of those voices can interfere in the kind of one-to-one communication I enjoy with my Heavenly Father. I believe Joseph Smith did see and talk to God the Father and Jesus Christ. I believe I communicate with them in a less earth-shaking fashion, but equally real. Because I have experienced personal heavenly communication for myself, I would find it very difficult to question whether someone else has experienced something similar, especially Joseph Smith. That is not to say that sometimes what people think is revelation from God is not. I have questioned my own answers to prayers before. But I know when I am keeping the commandments, and seeking to align my will with God's will, the answers come clearly. This is a lifetime experiment for me. I practice over and over and over recognizing how I feel when God speaks to me. To understand that my Heavenly Father finds me important enough to listen to, and to give answers to... is the fiber of which self-worth is made.HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-5265849478488166622011-10-14T21:28:00.000-07:002011-10-14T21:54:49.425-07:00i believeI have struggled in the past to understand the reason I created a blog. For me, it's not a log of my exciting (I use the term loosely) adventures, it's not where I post the latest pics of my family. I haven't really been sure what to do with it. Tonight, I linked this blog to my Mormon.org profile, and I think I'd like this to be a place I record my "Points of Light." Explanation forthcoming...<br />Someone who trained as a pilot once told me that they are instructed that if they find themselves flying in a storm, they should NOT keep going and hope they have already passed the worst of it. They are to return to the last "point of light" they saw, and then make a plan for redirection. Sometimes I find myself in the middle of an emotional or spiritual "storm" of sorts. The points of light that I return to are experiences in my past where I knew I was doing the right thing. It works best when I have recorded the points of light, so I can re-read them when I'm working out my own re-direction for my life.<br />To kick things off, here's a point of light I found in my journal:<br />January 5, 2003<br />"Today was not a total loss-I got "the feeling" that tells me I need to bear my testimony (in Relief Society). I needed to share how I don't produce the feeling I get when I "feel the spirit." And it always feels the same when I am learning something true. I am thankful God has given me this testimony. I knelt and told Him so after I read an anonymous note taped to the front door that my testimony helped them."<br />I knew that truth on that day, but... being mortal, sometimes I slip and forget things. I'm glad I have this point of light recorded to remind me.<br />To anyone reading this, I'd love your comments to be filled with a "point of light" you have experienced in your life...about a religious situation, or any other decision/re-direction you have experienced!HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-62250143142275422422011-08-15T13:13:00.001-07:002011-08-15T13:23:30.901-07:00Coupon-a-ramaI'm dipping my toes in the jamongous pool of couponing. I've saved $8.50 so far. I signed up for the newspaper and then chickened out. But for now, I am converting to the doctrine of organization for such a venture. I have been trying to keep the coupons I clip in a small photo album, and I'm already hating it. So...I'm going to post about a website I like to use as my guide through the coupon jungle, in hopes that I might win an organizing notebook to help me on my way! :)
<br /><a href="http://freebies2deals.com/2011/08/coupon-binder-giveaway-we-did-it.html">http://freebies2deals.com/2011/08/coupon-binder-giveaway-we-did-it.html</a>
<br />I don't think I would attempt to be a couponer without the help I get on the site. And best of all are the daily e-mail updates. When I can see the math done for me, it gives me lots of hope! I drove behind a car the other day whose bumper sticker read, "Math is my best friend." I'm glad there are people out there who are friends with math. I'm not one of them. :)HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-84135511594553901772011-05-29T22:02:00.000-07:002011-05-29T22:07:58.027-07:00BetchaI betcha no one else in the whole world has done what I just did. I sat in my 62-degree kitchen (at the end of May, and no air conditioning exists in my house) and split a can of olives with my 4-year old. The olives were a bedtime snack. The kitchen was frigid because my husband had his camera pointed out the window for several hours at the hummingbirds. They seem to be very active when it's rainy and almost dark. <br />I usually pray for rain for my birthday, maybe this year I'll ask for some sun. :)HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-90286606477534833202011-05-27T23:18:00.000-07:002011-05-27T23:35:24.207-07:00I'm Losing It!Things I’ve lost recently:<br />Entire collection of ink pads for stamping (I’m still pretty mad about this one)<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ahNSjVXadR4/TeCUSLHaI3I/AAAAAAAAANQ/1sRE1EHrYFw/s1600/ink%2Bpad.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ahNSjVXadR4/TeCUSLHaI3I/AAAAAAAAANQ/1sRE1EHrYFw/s320/ink%2Bpad.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611648175646057330" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Small Ginghers (but I still have the leather sheath for them)<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HD-Q0UN4AUE/TeCU7SIPnaI/AAAAAAAAANY/tHxZ0x3c1V4/s1600/gingher.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 90px; height: 46px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HD-Q0UN4AUE/TeCU7SIPnaI/AAAAAAAAANY/tHxZ0x3c1V4/s320/gingher.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611648881903246754" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Sister Cox’s phone number (found it on the front of the fridge…duh)<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XJ_pmFOu77E/TeCVgYbIADI/AAAAAAAAANg/gojh4Xx06p8/s1600/red%2Bphone.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 199px; height: 131px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XJ_pmFOu77E/TeCVgYbIADI/AAAAAAAAANg/gojh4Xx06p8/s320/red%2Bphone.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611649519248212018" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Library items (renewed them online to buy myself some time)<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p96Z6PVYNjk/TeCVvPcMU-I/AAAAAAAAANo/VRBSG3IFaHg/s1600/library%2Bbooks.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 172px; height: 151px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p96Z6PVYNjk/TeCVvPcMU-I/AAAAAAAAANo/VRBSG3IFaHg/s320/library%2Bbooks.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611649774534808546" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All three hairbrushes (temporarily)<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--KkKsyzyBhg/TeCWBZnVCcI/AAAAAAAAANw/bT6ZmbQscPw/s1600/three%2Bhairbrushes.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--KkKsyzyBhg/TeCWBZnVCcI/AAAAAAAAANw/bT6ZmbQscPw/s320/three%2Bhairbrushes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611650086503516610" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Upwards of 10 pacifiers (usually the dogs get them)<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A8FzuM8UpMo/TeCWQp5lf6I/AAAAAAAAAN4/Z-fG_-Zhzjk/s1600/boppies.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 167px; height: 155px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A8FzuM8UpMo/TeCWQp5lf6I/AAAAAAAAAN4/Z-fG_-Zhzjk/s320/boppies.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611650348573097890" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />But I have NOT lost the car keys!!! (recently)<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BRSvaZBcvyM/TeCWgVagHyI/AAAAAAAAAOA/rkSPlksxl5E/s1600/car%2Bkeys.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 120px; height: 162px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BRSvaZBcvyM/TeCWgVagHyI/AAAAAAAAAOA/rkSPlksxl5E/s320/car%2Bkeys.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611650617951919906" /></a>HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-71773048258688132752011-05-26T17:31:00.000-07:002011-05-26T17:33:11.938-07:00Rebecca H. Jamison: Finding Clothes for My Super Tall DaughterI loved what my friend just posted on her blog! Check it out if you are also interested! :)<br /><a href="http://rebeccajamison.blogspot.com/2011/05/finding-clothes-for-my-super-tall.html#comment-form">Rebecca H. Jamison: Finding Clothes for My Super Tall Daughter</a>HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-52428584618385657942011-05-17T20:31:00.000-07:002011-05-17T20:40:18.287-07:00MemoriesThings my mom kept in her purse when I was a kid:<br />Certs<br />Chap Stick<br />Folding scissors<br />Pocket size tissues<br />Purple heart keychain<br />Pen and paper (paper usually had Suzy's Zoo characters on it)<br />My brother's barf (only on one occasion)<br /><br />My Dad carried a cool twisty leather coin purse, a felt-tip pen, and a black pocketknife that had a toothpick, tweezers and tiny scissors, which he once used to clip a hangnail for me.<br /><br />My oldest sister had jelly shoes and jelly bracelets that never lasted long enough to get handed down to me, but I always thought they were extremely cool. <br /><br />My second oldest sister had a stash of gummy "red hot" flavored lips that she didn't like eating, but she did use them to bribe her siblings into doing things for her. I don't remember what I was ever bribed to do, but I remember the hot lips. She probably got them from a boy.<br /><br />My younger brother had cap guns that I always thought were cool, and when the guns broke, we hit the cap tape between rocks to make it pop and get that wonderful smell out of them.HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-46255630331398182582011-04-20T09:27:00.000-07:002011-04-21T21:13:34.628-07:00Modest is Hottest!"Young women, choose your clothing the way you would choose your friends—in both cases choose that which improves you and would give you confidence standing in the presence of God. Good friends would never embarrass you, demean you, or exploit you. Neither should your clothing."-Jeffrey R. Holland<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FjDW920umVA/TbD5BF_0YeI/AAAAAAAAAM4/D3Ey8Z-C9y0/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FjDW920umVA/TbD5BF_0YeI/AAAAAAAAAM4/D3Ey8Z-C9y0/s320/IMG_0019.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598248134006563298" /></a><br /><br />I like making my own clothing so that I can make it as modest as I want! I made this shiny apricot shirt, which I added sleeves to, and raised the neckline. Also, the fabric was on sale, so this whole shirt cost me less than a dollar!!! Leah has a matching dress as soon as I get a zipper and hem in it. :) You might have to make the pic bigger to see the ruffles down the front.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-alaqgmfZI-E/TbD8q4iVkqI/AAAAAAAAANA/US2oVdAGu5k/s1600/IMG_0024.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-alaqgmfZI-E/TbD8q4iVkqI/AAAAAAAAANA/US2oVdAGu5k/s320/IMG_0024.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598252150482637474" /></a><br /><br />This is a very sweet 18-month old boy showing off his latest trick: Blinking.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TZbl_kgQHpQ/TbD_bty5WTI/AAAAAAAAANI/HDrdDdM_pu4/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TZbl_kgQHpQ/TbD_bty5WTI/AAAAAAAAANI/HDrdDdM_pu4/s320/IMG_0025.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598255188436146482" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />This is a 4 year old princess modeling her Little House on the Prarie-style braids.HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-71941748586188025152011-01-10T17:54:00.000-08:002011-01-10T18:28:17.615-08:00Stayin' at Home<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZhmEqgl1F8/TSu41rtewAI/AAAAAAAAAMo/f5-wk_mfhk8/s1600/IMG_2035.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uZhmEqgl1F8/TSu41rtewAI/AAAAAAAAAMo/f5-wk_mfhk8/s320/IMG_2035.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560741397325070338" /></a><br />These are two magical moments I was lucky enough to capture. I NEED pictures of these moments, because they keep me reminded to stay the course of staying at home. It's too touchy of a subject to touch on in public, even at church. But this is my blog, and I don't feel restrained to say that I'm proud of myself for choosing to stay home with my kids, and for sticking with that decision. I know lots of people who have made different decisions than me. I'm not saying I know what's right for them and their families. I'm saying I know what's right for me and my family. When people tell me I'm "lucky" to get to stay home, I only partly agree. Some of it is luck, I guess, that I'm not single right now and working out of necessity. Some of it, however, is choosing to live with less, so that our one income is sufficient. While I have heard many mothers give many different explanations as to what the effects of their working outside the home were on their children, there is just one I have clung to for my example. One fiercely righteous mother I know has worked all throughout her life, and struggles with more than one of her children's moral decisions in life. What she said to me on this subject is, "I will always wonder if things would have been different had I chosen to stay home with them." I have heard lots of women say they are better mothers because they work. That's entirely possible. But I don't ever want to wonder, so I'm not taking that chance. I've never heard a mother say, "I had a pretty easy time raising my kids, I probably could have taken on a lot more." My kids don't even know yet that this is a sacrifice for me. I guess if I've done my job right, they will never feel like it's a sacrifice for me. I brought them here to this earth to give them every ounce of energy and love I've got, not to focus on making MYSELF the best person I can be.<br />"In family relationships love is really spelled t-i-m-e, time. Taking time for each other is the key for harmony at home." -President Dieter F. Uchtdorf "Of Things That Matter Most" Ensign magazine, November 2010<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZhmEqgl1F8/TSu41dHq6PI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8wXmD4D9NQU/s1600/IMG_0094.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uZhmEqgl1F8/TSu41dHq6PI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8wXmD4D9NQU/s320/IMG_0094.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560741393408387314" /></a>HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6017788477790516545.post-63186011185331223072010-12-31T22:07:00.000-08:002010-12-31T22:15:32.698-08:002011 Personal ThemeFor the third year in a row, I’ve chosen a theme for myself. I pray over the ideas I have, and choose one that I hope will help me through every season of the year, no matter what I encounter. In 2009, I chose “Do It Now,” because I felt I had a serious problem procrastinating. In 2010, I chose “Keep Moving Forward,” because my Anxiety and sometimes Depression would get the best of me, but I found if I could make myself move at all, on any little task, it helped some. For 2011, I choose…<br />drumroll… <br /><br />“Be Who You ARE.” (emphasis intentional)<br /><br />I suppose its a little cliché to be turning 30 this year and be in the process of “finding myself” and putting far less value on what other people think, but I guess that’s just it. I’m a normal woman having pretty normal experiences for my age and marital status…and I’m happy about that. I am discovering that (despite most advertisements targeted to my demographic) I AM already what I’ve looked forward to being for most of my life previous. <br /><br />Truly, “enduring to the end” entails more than I can imagine. Especially considering that, for right now, I’m working with all I have to endure the present moments. I believe the details of personal improvement are what really makes up the “endurement to the end-ness.” (yes, that's an Angela-ism) <br /><br />Some of those improvements are non-voluntary. I fully expect the Lord to provide circumstances for my refinement. However, I find that as I pray for such circumstances, I’m a total coward. I have prayers that might go something like this, “Please remind me to be more grateful for thy blessings to me…but don’t go about it by some personal disaster like our house burning down, or a total government collapse, or anything like that.” Or, “Please help me know how I can relieve others of their burdens…but don’t make me have to give away all our savings money…not because I can’t do it, mostly because I don’t want to explain to my husband why we should do it. Maybe if you choose that trial for me, you could please send an angel to tell him the same thing? I mean, you did it for Joseph and Mary…” <br /><br />Some self-improvements are voluntary. Using agency in such a way is like steroids for your spiritual strength. I think that’s what most people choose to do by writing resolutions at New Year’s time. It’s important to set specific goals. <br /><br />I want to note, quite strongly, that a quest for self-improvement is in itself a very selfish activity. If it’s allowed to take priority in our lives, we will find ourselves suffering from the self-inflicted wounds to our spirit of vanity and lack of charity.<br /><br />With “Be Who You ARE,” I hope to make sure I include plenty of other people in this goal. If I can thoroughly convince myself of what I now believe to be a pure TRUTH: I AM, right now, valuable and worthy of glory; If I can convince myself of that, I believe I will fade into the background in my own life, and have all the energy I ever hoped for left for serving others. Not only that, I’ve noticed that when I am near others who believe this TRUTH about themselves, it liberates me to do the same. I hope to liberate others from the LUDICROUS amount of self-loathing I see in too many (meaning almost all) people.<br /><br />Some of you might be thinking “Beware of Pride.” I agree that we have to keep ourselves in check, but I also believe that dwelling on the fear of pride is a very degrading tool of the devil, and I intend to find ways to avoid it. The main part of this is to conquer my own thoughts. This seems overwhelming and impossible, to be honest. Mostly because I have allowed for YEARS the flaxen cords that are lies about my self-worth to be wrapped around my brain. It could take YEARS to undo them, but I’m worth the fight. I recognize that giving myself years to correct this gives me a potential excuse for laziness to creep in. I’ll have to fight that, too, but I’m worth it.<br /><br />I realize that publishing these statements may be seen as a welcome challenge by the adversary of Man (seeming mis-capitalizations are intentional). But I would remind us all that “They that are with us are MORE than they that are against us!” I hereby declare war on self-degrading thoughts! Here is a song that pumps me up for the fight of life: <br />1. Behold! A royal army,<br />With banner, sword, and shield,<br />Is marching forth to conquer<br />On life’s great battlefield.<br />Its ranks are filled with soldiers,<br />United, bold, and strong,<br />Who follow their Commander<br />And sing their joyful song:<br />[Chorus]<br />Victory, victory,<br />Thru him that redeemed us!<br />Victory, victory,<br />Thru Jesus Christ, our Lord!<br />Victory, victory, victory,<br />Thru Jesus Christ, our Lord!<br />2. And now the foe advancing,<br />That valiant host assails,<br />And yet they never falter;<br />Their courage never fails.<br />Their Leader calls, “Be faithful!”<br />They pass the word along;<br />They see his signal flashing<br />And shout their joyful song:<br />3. Oh, when the war is ended,<br />When strife and conflicts cease,<br />When all are safely gathered<br />Within the vale of peace,<br />Before the King eternal,<br />That vast and mighty throng<br />Shall praise his name forever,<br />And this shall be their song:<br />Text: Fanny J. Crosby, 1820–1915<br />Music: Adam Geibel, 1855–1933<br />LDS Hymnbook #251<br /><br />“As it has been since the beginning, the adversary [satan] would divide us, break us up, and if he can, destroy us. But the Lord said, ‘Lift up your hearts and rejoice, and ... take upon you my whole armor, that ye may be able to withstand the evil day, ... taking the shield of faith wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.” (D&C 27:15, 17)<br /><br />“We were dressed in our home each morning, not only with hats and raincoats and boots to protect us from physical storm, but even more carefully our parents dressed us each day in the armor of God. As we would kneel in family prayer and listen to our father, a bearer of the priesthood, pour out his soul to the Lord for the protection of his family against the fiery darts of the wicked, one more layer was added to our shield of faith. While our shield was being made strong, theirs was always available, for they were available and we knew it.” <br />L. Tom Perry, Ensign, May 1974 © 2007 Intellectual Reserve, Inc. All rights reserved.<br /><br />Shields protect us from outside danger, I aim to turn my shield 180 degrees, and protect myself from attacking me. <br /><br />All the water in the world, no matter how it tried,<br />Could never, never sink a ship---unless it got inside.<br />All the evil in the world---the blackest kind of sin;<br />Could never hurt you one least bit---unless you let it in!<br /><br />I might just end up using some of this post for a future lesson in Relief Society!HunsakerMamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03862812397109330268noreply@blogger.com4