Well...I have a dilemma. (Don't you HATE dilemmas?) Election Day is coming up and I feel like a very uninformed citizen.
It all started when we moved from one county in the once-Golden State of California to another county. Ron and I were conscientious citizens and re-registered to vote. However, we have not received any information--no sample ballots, no voting guide, no obnoxious phone calls (I can live with that) and the only mail we've received are for the local elections from the county we've moved from. Local elections that aren't so local now.
When I called the Registrar of Voters to check on our voting status, they confirmed that Ron and I are registered to vote. That's good. When I complained about the lack of sample ballots and voter registration guides, the man was less than helpful. "I can't help you there."
WHAT?!!! Isn't that your job--to help voters, vote?
He suggested three options. 1. Drive to the register of voters office and pick up said materials.
I COULD do that, but it's not exactly a quick little drive.
Option #2: Show up at my polling place and ask to look at one of their sample ballots. Somehow, I don't think that is the best way to make an informed decision BEFORE I head into the polling place--unless I want to spend an extraordinary amount of time in said little cubicle.
Option #3: Do my research on-line. When I explained to said official that I tried doing this, but I wasn't sure exactly which measure and which officials I could actually vote for in my little town in this new county, he was unsympathetic. "Well, good luck."
So, I have taken option #3 and have scribbled little notes on who and what I want to vote for. But, I may come across some unknown judges, some unstudied measures, and some other men and women hoping for my vote and I may just have to leave those areas blank because I am an frustrated uninformed citizen.
I just hope I can read my own writing once I show up at my polling place on Tuesday.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Dentophobia
When I was a little girl, I had a peculiar problem. My teeth would not fall out.
When other little children would celebrate losing a tooth in kindergarten or 1st grade, my teeth stayed firmly in place. I was blessed with an extremely good "root system."
In the course of natural events, the permanent teeth would eventually begin growing in which made for a rather crowded mouth and since the cute little baby teeth weren't moving, it was determined by my dentist that the unwanted baby teeth would need to be "extracted."
I hate the word extracted.
And for many, many years, I really hated going to the dentist. It meant painful Novocaine shots and much wriggling and yanking and, well, I don't want to think about it anymore because it seriously is bringing butterflies to my stomach just typing these words.
In all my childhood years, I only lost TWO teeth the "normal way." Every other cute little baby tooth was "extracted." Along with several permanent teeth because of braces. And wisdom teeth, too. Yes, I developed a massive fear of dentists.
After I became an adult, I went to several dentists hoping to find the "perfect dentist" who I could be comfortable with. One day, I was inspired to ask a woman in my ward (who I knew was pretty particular) who her dentist was. That was when I discovered the husband and wife team of Gary and Sheri.
I explained my great fear to them. They did not mock me. They understood. With extreme gentleness they helped me overcome my dentophobia. I loved my dentists. I got to the point where a dental visit was a "non-event." I hardly gave it a thought. In the past, I would dread an upcoming visit for nearly two weeks, worrying about what would happen.
When we moved, I needed to find a new dentist. Much as I love Dr. Gary and Sheri, I really did not want to drive two hours each way to visit the dentist. After hearing about my mother's dentist, I decided to give him a try.
Last Wednesday morning, I saw my new dentist for the first time. When I am saying I woke up in the middle of the night in a near panic attack, I am not exaggerating. I did not sleep the rest of the night. All my old fears came back.
As I drove to his office, my heart was racing. I silently prayed that I would be OK and that I would like this dentist.
I'm happy to report that everyone was very friendly and kind. It may take two or three more visits to work up to the same level of trust I had with Gary and Sheri, but I think I may have found another dentist who I can trust.
When other little children would celebrate losing a tooth in kindergarten or 1st grade, my teeth stayed firmly in place. I was blessed with an extremely good "root system."
In the course of natural events, the permanent teeth would eventually begin growing in which made for a rather crowded mouth and since the cute little baby teeth weren't moving, it was determined by my dentist that the unwanted baby teeth would need to be "extracted."
I hate the word extracted.
And for many, many years, I really hated going to the dentist. It meant painful Novocaine shots and much wriggling and yanking and, well, I don't want to think about it anymore because it seriously is bringing butterflies to my stomach just typing these words.
In all my childhood years, I only lost TWO teeth the "normal way." Every other cute little baby tooth was "extracted." Along with several permanent teeth because of braces. And wisdom teeth, too. Yes, I developed a massive fear of dentists.
After I became an adult, I went to several dentists hoping to find the "perfect dentist" who I could be comfortable with. One day, I was inspired to ask a woman in my ward (who I knew was pretty particular) who her dentist was. That was when I discovered the husband and wife team of Gary and Sheri.
I explained my great fear to them. They did not mock me. They understood. With extreme gentleness they helped me overcome my dentophobia. I loved my dentists. I got to the point where a dental visit was a "non-event." I hardly gave it a thought. In the past, I would dread an upcoming visit for nearly two weeks, worrying about what would happen.
When we moved, I needed to find a new dentist. Much as I love Dr. Gary and Sheri, I really did not want to drive two hours each way to visit the dentist. After hearing about my mother's dentist, I decided to give him a try.
Last Wednesday morning, I saw my new dentist for the first time. When I am saying I woke up in the middle of the night in a near panic attack, I am not exaggerating. I did not sleep the rest of the night. All my old fears came back.
As I drove to his office, my heart was racing. I silently prayed that I would be OK and that I would like this dentist.
I'm happy to report that everyone was very friendly and kind. It may take two or three more visits to work up to the same level of trust I had with Gary and Sheri, but I think I may have found another dentist who I can trust.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Chocolate Turtle Cheesecake
Last evening I made a "Chocolate Turtle Cheesecake." The picture from the magazine looked absolutely yummy. Picture a vanilla wafer/pecan crust, a layer of melted caramels, a thick decadent layer of cream cheese that has melted semi-sweet chocolate added to the mixture, topped with more pecans and a drizzle of chocolate. Don't you want some?
The directions said it would take 15 minutes to prepare. Fifteen minutes! Those 15 minutes turned into nearly an hour. An hour of chopping pecans, unwrapping caramels, melting said caramels, softening cream cheese, melting chocolate, burning the first chocolate I melted (my new microwave is very powerful), melting more chocolate, mixing, mixing, mixing, until finally it was ready to go into the oven.
I told my family I hoped it was worth it.
Tonight, after a lovely family home evening, a discussion of the perfect nail color Emily and I needed to get next, and a rousing game of Swap, I pulled the "Chocolate Turtle Cheesecake" out of the refrigerator. Ron lovingly dished it up and then we took our first bites.
The recipe is going into the garbage. Along with the rest of the cheesecake.
The directions said it would take 15 minutes to prepare. Fifteen minutes! Those 15 minutes turned into nearly an hour. An hour of chopping pecans, unwrapping caramels, melting said caramels, softening cream cheese, melting chocolate, burning the first chocolate I melted (my new microwave is very powerful), melting more chocolate, mixing, mixing, mixing, until finally it was ready to go into the oven.
I told my family I hoped it was worth it.
Tonight, after a lovely family home evening, a discussion of the perfect nail color Emily and I needed to get next, and a rousing game of Swap, I pulled the "Chocolate Turtle Cheesecake" out of the refrigerator. Ron lovingly dished it up and then we took our first bites.
The recipe is going into the garbage. Along with the rest of the cheesecake.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Why I Love Visiting Teaching
Our family moved two months ago. The move has been a good thing in many ways and a hard thing in many ways. It's great being with Ron every night. It's great being closer to family. However, I have been mourning my old ward. I knew everyone in my little ward. I knew probably half the active people in the stake. Here, I know very few people and attending church and trying to figure out who everyone is and who is related to each other has been somewhat overwhelming. We have moved into a large, strong, active ward, which is good. But it also means that it's going to take a lot longer to get to know everyone. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed trying to remember the names of those I have met.
Today, I was saying my prayers (again) asking Heavenly Father to help me find a friend. I asked Him to help me feel of His love. I was starting to doubt my own worth because I don't know if anyone in Morgan Hill (except family) really even know me, much less care about me. I knew that if I could feel my Heavenly Father's love, that it wouldn't matter if no one else knew my name. It would be enough.
A few hours later, my prayers were answered. It doesn't always happen that fast.
First, I talked to a woman back in Stockton. We were never in the same ward, but I have enjoyed talking to her at various stake functions throughout the years. Before we ended the conversation she said, "Loralee, I just want to say how much I love you! You have always radiated such light and goodness and I'm always happy to be around you." I expressed my thanks and told her that I admired her very much also and we hung up. Amazing how that brief conversation could lift my spirits! It also seemed like a very tangible answer to prayer--that Heavenly Father was answering my prayers through another. It works like that a lot.
A few minutes later, one of my visiting teachers showed up. I had met her for the first time on Sunday. I didn't know anything about her except her name. Her companion wasn't able to make it and our visit turned into a two hour talk-fest. We connected in so many ways. Finally, I feel like I may have met someone who can turn into a very good friend.
I am so grateful for the visiting teaching program. Heavenly Father knew I needed a friend. I am also grateful for an inspired Relief Society president, who just happens to be my sister-in-law, for being inspired in who I needed at this time in my life.
Today, I was saying my prayers (again) asking Heavenly Father to help me find a friend. I asked Him to help me feel of His love. I was starting to doubt my own worth because I don't know if anyone in Morgan Hill (except family) really even know me, much less care about me. I knew that if I could feel my Heavenly Father's love, that it wouldn't matter if no one else knew my name. It would be enough.
A few hours later, my prayers were answered. It doesn't always happen that fast.
First, I talked to a woman back in Stockton. We were never in the same ward, but I have enjoyed talking to her at various stake functions throughout the years. Before we ended the conversation she said, "Loralee, I just want to say how much I love you! You have always radiated such light and goodness and I'm always happy to be around you." I expressed my thanks and told her that I admired her very much also and we hung up. Amazing how that brief conversation could lift my spirits! It also seemed like a very tangible answer to prayer--that Heavenly Father was answering my prayers through another. It works like that a lot.
A few minutes later, one of my visiting teachers showed up. I had met her for the first time on Sunday. I didn't know anything about her except her name. Her companion wasn't able to make it and our visit turned into a two hour talk-fest. We connected in so many ways. Finally, I feel like I may have met someone who can turn into a very good friend.
I am so grateful for the visiting teaching program. Heavenly Father knew I needed a friend. I am also grateful for an inspired Relief Society president, who just happens to be my sister-in-law, for being inspired in who I needed at this time in my life.
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