Angel Wings vs Broom Transportation

My Sheena is a wonderful hair dresser.  She graciously keeps many in our family looking as good as we can.  I am one of the lucky recipients.  She was cutting Cori's hair, so I went over there for mine.  Usually she is in a sweet mood, gentle by nature, but she had not had a good nights sleep, had some in-law challenges, and was understandably in a what I call a "murmur mood".  We have all been there.    After listening to her discussing her exasperations, I said that it just makes you want to kill them, but the best is to kill them with kindness.  She had a comment or two, so I said to remember there is no problem so bad that kindness can't help but improve it.  She took a deep breath, and I thinking that perhaps my mother-inspired-words helped her mind set, instead she put her hand on her hip and said, "Mother, why don't you just take your little angel wings and fly away home!"  I felt like saying, "I will after you're through flying on your broom" , but I didn't.    The truth is I remember times when a broom would have been a good vehicle of transportation for me.  The truth is I completely understood her frustration because I have been there.  I sent Sheena a text later that said,  "After I flew home with my little angel wings, I did my hair.  It looks great!"  She text back "good, get Dad to take you on a date".  Sometimes I forget that we are not  human beings having a spiritual experience but  spiritual beings having to have a human experience. Sometimes life is just plain fun and so worth it

Arlene Park Arnold/ Aprons and Dishes

Mother was an apron wearer.  She would have never considered buying one.  They were always homemade.  Her mother, Grandma Park always wore an apron.  Mother wore one when she cooked, Grandma wore one most of the time.  She wore the 1930-40 types, tiny print, calico, big straps, big pockets, and lots of cover up.  Mother wore half aprons gathered at the waist and tied in the back with a great big bow.  She loved gingham, so most of them were checked, and some were trimmed in rick rack.  After she passed away Robin and I  took a couple of aprons.  Most were stained, worn, and very used.  I love those aprons and carefully put them away for safekeeping.  Mother taught me well.  I am an wearer of aprons and so is my sister.  When I cook, the first thing I look for is my apron.  I have never figured out why a women would not want to wear an apron in the kitchen.  I am a messy cook. I spill, I splatter, and I wipe.  My clothes very rarely get stained and I can pop off my apron and I am ready to go out of the house.  I have non-apron friends who always change clothes to "something clean" before they leave their home.  Why don't they just wear an apron?  Mother was one of the tidiest cooks I have ever been around.  She could make a fantastic meal with several courses and not have a messy kitchen.  When I was at home, she taught me to "clean as you go".  She would put hot sudsy water in the sink and when she finished a preparation, she would put it in the water.  She could never understand women who left their bowls or pans to harden, when it is just as easy to put them in water and avoid all the scrubbing later. That way she said, "Water does most of the work".  She was a staunch believer in doing dishes right after a meal.  I have no memory of Mother's kitchen ever having meal preparation or dishes from a meal left in the sink or on the counter top or stove.  She taught her daughters that the "made beds and doing dishes" were the secrets to keeping a good house.  I remember her saying that a woman can do other things to keep an organized house, but if they don't start with beds and dishes they are just fooling themselves. 

Arlene Arnold/ Robin's Memory/ Mom's Kitchen the Heart of the Home

The following is taken from a 1995 letter Robin, her youngest daughter, enclosed with a cookbook she had compiled of Mother's often used recipes.  I saved the letter, and now since Robin's stroke and her difficulty in writing, I am so grateful I did.  It gives a glimpse of life on the farm, and a couple of memories of Mother.  Here is Robin's forward rom her 1995 cookbook.
"When I think of Mom, in my mind's eye, I picture her standing at the kitchen sink wearing a gingham apron.  Much of mother's life was spent in the kitchen.  Our kitchen was the heart of our home.  It was there that mother became barber for the boys; seamstress for the girls; washed milkers for the farm and cooked three meals, day in and day out for a family hungry farm workers and a family of six."  (end of cookbook forward)

The following is from Robin's letter that was enclosed with the cookbook.
"Christmas 1995
Dear Penny, Steve, and Tim,
I am sure this day, being the one year anniversary of Mother's death, has been a day of reflection for all of us.  I have thought a lot about Mom and Dad during the last year.   Experiences of my childhood on the farm have come flooding back to me more than once.  I realized that most of my memories were centered in one room, the kitchen.  Remember how afraid Mom was of mice?  More than once Mom scrambled for the safe haven on top of the kitchen table and wouldn't come down until on of her boys declared the kitchen a "safe zone".  I have no idea how many times between the ages of about 2 and 9 that I had to stand on that kitchen table while Mom measured a dress to be hemmed.  Mom's table in the corner of the kitchen served us well...I think I can remember every plastic center piece that ever sat perfectly centered on its' smooth surface....I think my most vivid memory if of that darn old rooster that used to chase me every time Mom sent me to gather eggs.  The minute I would step out the back door he would sense that something was up and lie in wait just daring me to try to get an egg.  Finally Mom was convinced to do something about him.    I 'll never forget coming in the back door and smelling the most delicious dinner cooking.  What's for dinner Mom?  "Fried rooster," she replied.  (end Robin's letter)

Whirlwind Summer with the Cluff Clan

Here is a brief catch up of whirlwind activities since school got out.

• Son-in-law Cody Heimberger graduated with his associate degree from Dixie College.  We had an ice cream party after with all the family and some of his.  We are proud of him and they are anxious to get their baby here and on to the next college to complete his Aeronautical degree.
• Memorial Day and three days on the mountain officially started summer for us.  Brandon and children were up there with us.  He is building a huge deck.  We loved the cool air, did a lot of four wheeling, and had a camp fire at night for roasting marshmallows. 
• Girls camp was the next week.  Walt is the councelor over Young Women, so he is involved every year, but this year I got to go for one evening.  I was asked to do the Stake fireside for the leaders and fifth year girls.  Due to so much snow at the regular girls camp, they used a camp site just about 10 miles from our place on Cedar Mountain.  Knowing it would be just over the hills, I asked granddaughters Taiha and Lesley to go with me earlier in the day.  I left them at my camp for a few hours while I did the fireside and returned to some spooked girls.  It had started to get dark and they thought every little noise was a "thing".  We spent the night there and next morning put rocks around a fire pit.  They worked hard and it looked good after we were done.
• Cluff Reunion was that weekend on a different mountain, the Kiabab in Arizona.  Not all of our children could attend, but Natalie, her boys Morgan, Brad, and our daughter Jessi took my car.  Walt and I took Brandon's, Jade, Josie, Sheena's Taiha and Jaxon.  Brain, Cori's husband braved it with all their children, even though Cori could not attend.  The reunion was fun and it was great to see every one, but the weather was horrible.  Our big RV was set up on Cedar Mountain and Walt did not want to move it.  So we put a camper shell on the back of his truck.  It leaked like a sieve!  Eleven year Morgan summed up the whole experience while we were huddled in a borrowed trailer trying to get warm.  He said, "This is the best reunion ever.....except for the rain,  oh, and the snow,  oh, and the hail!"
• Two more weekends of mountain.  We even got to go to Alton church.  Walt arranged to miss his Sunday meetings in our ward.  Grandsons Jade and Justin were up there with us most of the time.
• 4th of July weekend on Cedar Mountain at our place.  Cori's entire family came up.  It was so fun and the air was cool and pleasant.  The four wheelers were going almost constantly.  Cori and Brain have two, Walt has one, but mine was down needing repairs.  They prepared the best bbq ribs and chicken ever.  What a treat.
• Two day Victim's Advocate Training with Cori at Midway near Heber City, Utah.  What an awesome place.  I have never stayed in a five star hotel!  Wow.  The convention center was impressive.  The entire town and resort is all Swiss themed.  All the employees were dressed like swiss people; little nickers, knee highs, vests.  We could have stayed for a week, but Cori's had to get right back.
• Baby shower for Jessica was Saturday.  There was a huge turn out.  She was given everything she will ever need for her baby girl. My girls are absolutely awesome.  They sent out the invites, planned the food,  prepared the games, and did not leave until my house was completely clean.  They came a couple of hours early to prepare everything.  All they asked me to bring was the dinnerware, a strawberry salad, and the place to have it.  It was so fun and everyone seemed to have a good time.  A couple of cousins and Aunt stayed for a quite a while after it was over.  It was just sweet to sit and catch up.   I have managed to raise hard working, generous, and supportive daughters (and an awesome son).  While I was getting ready in the bedroom, I could hear them talking with one another.  They made suggestions to one another on the decorations, would correct one another, and then laugh a lot while they completed the preparations.  I think that there is no better feeling for a mother than to know that her children can get along very well without her.  At least, I can't speak for every mother, but I find that thought to be gratifying.

Every week has been crammed full of activity since school got out, and it seems to have no end in site with a new baby coming at the end of this month.  I have managed to keep the garden weed free, not an easy task with the business of summer life, but I set a personal goal last spring.   The garden has been fun this year.  I bbq  a lot of squash yesterday.  What a treat.  Steak, fresh bbq squash and fresh tomatoes.

Packing My Gun and Projects

Summer came like a strike of lightening.  We were unusually cool and then it hit...bam...110 degree.  Last night I looked at our temp at 10:30 p.m.  It was 91!  Why is a cool Idaho girl like me living in an easy bake oven? I have made a decision.  I AM OUT OF HERE.  I am no longer working, my calling doesn't start until end of August, Walt is working all day, the kids don't have any games this summer, so why am I here?  I am going to the mountain and I am not coming down until Jess has her baby the end of the month.    I am going by myself and who wants to visit is welcome.  I am loading up my music, autoharp, painting projects, books, and my gun.  Our 40 acres is a couple of miles from a main road and there are two gates someone has to go through to get in, but I still want my gun.  However, I doubt I will see any one that doesn't have four legs.  Walt will be at Youth Conference in Cedar City, so perhaps he can come for a visit at the end of the week.  Brandon built a wonderful deck for our 5th wheel, so I can put my chair back and feel the cool air.  My goal is to catch up blog on the activities of summer,  finish some projects, and watch the deer, squirrels, and chipmunks.

Arlene Park Arnold/ Sambo

Copied from email from Tim Arnold (youngest son)  memory of Mother’s Dog Sambo:
"As I was thinking of mom, many memories came to my mind. One memory that I think of every once in awhile is one that was the only time I had ever seen mom this way. Dad had got mom a little dog, it was the ugliest dog you could ever imagine. It was kind of red with some white on it. It was a male dog, had a little tiny rear end, a great big chest, floppy ears, and weepy eyes. His legs that were about 2 inches long, and bowed out. He was a very unattractive dog and not one that you would think anyone could love. Mom did not think much of the dog at first. It would get in her way in the kitchen, but he wanted to always be with Mom. When mom would lay down, the dog wanted to be with her. She named the dog Sambo, and really fell in love with him. She started to try to teach him tricks. She taught him one trick, or maybe the dog taught himself the trick, because he could get food if he would do it for mom. She used to say, “ Tim, look at Sambo”. She would call the dog over and he would sit in front of her. Mom would then point her finger in the air, and make a noise, and the dog would sit up on his rear just like he was setting on a chair. Sambo would hold that position until Mom would give him some food. She thought that was cutest thing. One day I came home from school, when I was attending Ricks College. I came through the back door and up the steps into the kitchen. Mom was there, and she had been crying. When I asked what was wrong, she couldn't even speak, all she could do was sob, not cry but sob. She kept trying to tell me something, the whole time I'm thinking the worst, I thought possibly that something had happened to Dad, maybe a heart attack or something. Finally, she was able to get out that little Sambo had been run over by Dad earlier in the day while up in the field irrigating. It was a hot day and Sambo had fallen asleep under the pickup in the shade. Dad didn't see him. I had never seen my mother cry like that. She had grown closer to little Sambo than we realized, it took some time for Mom to get over the death of her dog. I remember Dad saying maybe we should get her another dog, but Mom said no that something bad always happens to all the animals we get close to. I do remember that we did get other dogs later. " (end of copy from Tim's email)

Penny's perspective on Tim's memory:
I find this memory so interesting, because it happened after I left home.  My memory of Mother was she absolutely DID NOT allow pets in the house!  This little dog must have really found a place in her heart.  When I was a kid before we moved to the farm, I was always dragging some stray dog or cat home.  She would get so disgusted with me.  I had frequent ring worm due to the unsanitary pets.  She would scold me, while she was doctoring the rings that usually grew on the inside of my forearms.  The comment Tim made about Mother saying "something" bad happens to the animals we get close to" was true.  Grandma Arnold had a horse on their farm I grew up with.  Dad put me on Patsy with him, when I was about two or three.  I rode her by myself at about 4 yrs, if I could con someone to bridle and saddle her.  Finally, I got tired of that by the time I was about five, so I learned to coax her to the pole fence, where I would somehow get a bridle on her, and ride bare back.  Mother always worried about me being so young and riding, but she never stopped me.  Patsy and I were inseparable.  One day when I was about 13, I came home from school and Mom said she had some very bad news.  She told me Patsy had wandered out of the barn yard, been hit by a truck, and killed on the Lyman highway.  I was devastated, and cried most of the night, never coming out of my room until morning.   She left me alone treating me very kindly, even though I was angry for a few days.

Arlene Park Arnold/ Fun & Raisen Cookies

Steven Jack Arnold, oldest son's memory: (copied from email)
"She was fun.... I remember her dancing in the kitchen many times.
When I was little boy I remember when we were riding in the car and she was driving she would say, Watch, I can drive without my hands on the steering wheel and she would take both hands off the steering wheel.
I remember her quilting with her sisters right there at the Fowler house where we lived just down the hill from Ricks college. I clearly remember it because she would have the quilt elevated and spread out across the living room. Tim and I would play under it when I came home from school. Mom would make those great big raisen filled cookies that had the juice oozing out and give them to us to eat. I never really liked raisen filled cookies.
Sharon  (Steven's wife) has pointed out that mom could prepare a full meal without anybody hardly noticing that she was doing it, and then she would sometimes clear your plate off and put it away before you were hardly done eating.