Ardith's Quest

I've been trying to think of mine.  There have been several great ones throughout the years.  We are fortunate that our good friends, Tim and Cindy, celebrate their anniversary on Valentines and often invite us along on their excursions. One year we took a short cruise down to Mexico with them.  One year we stayed at a Bed and Breakfast inn up at Sisters, Oregon. 

I remember one Valentines during the early years of our marriage, shortly after moving to Oregon. My younger brother, Wayne, babysat our little Jackie so we could go out to dinner at McCormick and Schmicks.  That seemed like such an extravagance at the time.  One year,  my parents watched our little Jackie and Robert so we could go away together for a ski weekend.

I remember one year while we had three very young children and lived in Salem, we celebrated all together with a picnic on our family room floor.

I wonder if Brian and Miranda remember the year we went out for Italian food in West Salem and had our car towed.  Ah, such special times...

Many years blend together.  It has gotten to the point that going out for dinner is no longer too much of a thrill, so it becomes more difficult to set the day apart by simply doing that.  And what does one do for the man who doesn't care about 'stuff" and if he wants anything he will go get it himself?

Brian has a little bit of a stubborn streak in him too.  He doesn't like anything that is commonplace or expected or perfunctory as Valentines Day to dictate when or how he shows his love or treats his wife.  He would much rather spoil me all the other 364 days of the year than to do so simply because the world tells him that he should.  I actually find that rather endearing as I too have a little non-conformist streak in me.

I do remember our first Valentines Day together.  Brian and I were both attending Utah State University, and had only been dating for a few short weeks.  Our college ward was sponsoring a Valentines dance.  I spent extra care getting ready because I wanted him to think I was beautiful.  We made an appearance at the activity, danced one dance, then and as I look back now I can see he was being true to form, he asked if I wanted to leave and go see a movie.  What?  I kind of wanted to stay and dance but I could see that he didn't.  We went to the movie, "Tootsie" with Dustin Hoffman, a very fun movie.  For me though, the memorable part was in the sound track.  It began to play "Something's telling me it might be you, yes, its telling me it must be you all of my life".  The amazing song by Stephen Bishop seemed to touch my heart with words speaking just to me.  "I've been saving love songs and lullabyes"...

Well, that was probably sharing too much of myself.  Needless to say our courtship progressed and in June of 1983 we were married in the Idaho Falls Temple.  And the rest, they say, is history.

How are you celebrating Valentines Day?  Brian and I will be going to the coast this year to spend a couple of nights before returning Sunday morning for church.  Sounds nice...

A few years ago I started a scrapbook album based on an idea I had heard from a friend.  In twenty-six pages, following the alphabet, the idea is to make a page representing each letter and how it describes something about you.

This project presented several  unique challenges.  Coming up with ideas for each letter that told something about who I am and what I value wasn't always easy.  Employing numerous techniques stretched my creativity.  Finding pictures to represent different facets of my life was a fun quest.  Limiting myself to one page per category required some careful editing.  Hunting for and creating unique embellishments was delightful.

So I have decided to share this album with you for a couple of reasons.  First, it is a compact way of revealing the different facets of my life.  Secondly, it will push me to fill in the few gaps that remain in my album.  Each week I will put together a post with a few of the pages, and we will make our way to the end of the alphabet together.  Enjoy!

I got lucky with the title page, the Letter "A":  All About Ardith.  Too easy...


The letter "B" allowed me to share my love of Broadway shows.  By scanning some of the Playbills I have collected over the years, then printing them in small version enabled me to include several.  I decided to only show the plays I have actually seen in New York City.  Luckily for me, the touring show companies often come to Portland, Oregon, so I don't always have to fly to the East Coast to get my fix.  This page was put together in 2005 so it doesn't include all the great shows I have seen since then.  I am spoiled, I know it...

Random musings on love by a contemplative youth. . .

 Love does not come in flutters of the heart but trembles of the soul.

 One does not fall in love. Love must burst in on a moment when friendship runs deepest.

 Love mustn’t flare up, shock, and die away like a firework. It must form beneath the surface, advance, and consume like a wave.

I really have.  Which road?  I have decided to write a book!  Because of all the encouraging feedback I have received from my faithful blog readers, I have decided that the next part of my quest will be to chase the dream of authorship.

I have already spoken on the phone with two publishing companies to learn a little more about the process.  The new opportunities that exist now with "Printing on Demand" have made the dream much more accessible.

I am excited about the possibilities.  I am anxious about the challenges.  I am intrigued by the opportunity for growth.

Early this morning, while lying in my cozy bed, my mind was filled with so many possible ideas that I simply couldn't stay in bed any longer.  I immediately went into my scrapbook room, sat down at the computer and began typing.  This past week I have started a new regimen of steady writing, with no pauses for corrections or contemplation, to be sustained for at least 10 minute periods.  It is called Free Writing and the idea is to just use writing as an impetus for thought.  Simply the process of writing invites the flow of ideas.  Nothing wakes up the brain quite like simply typing to see what comes out.

It has been an enlightening exercise.  It doesn't matter that most of what comes out is "garbage".  The point then is to be able to sift through the garbage to find the pearls, to discover the treasure that lurks among the nonsense.

A timid person (who me?) would keep this dream to herself until it showed more signs of fruition.  I am deciding to do the bold thing by announcing my intention.  If I fail, I choose to do so before an audience.  I know how to light a fire under my own backside:  Accountability!

Thank you for your kind words of encouragement.  I feel like this will be my adventure to share with all of you.  Please join me as I embark upon this journey.  Who knows where it will lead?

When I unpacked it from the huge box yesterday, carefully crammed with the most newspaper balls I have ever seen, I felt like a kid on Christmas.


The case had obviously seen a lot of handling, and a lot of moving about.  I fumbled with the mechanism to open it.  Eventually figured out the old-fashioned latches.


When I opened the case, the typewriter took my breath away.  Gorgeous!  I was immediately taken with the lovely color; surprised by its shine; awed by its newness.  I doubt that it was ever removed from its case throughout all its years.  No scratches, no sign of rust, no wear and tear at all.


After admiring its appearance, I grabbed some printer paper and put it to the test.  It works!  Smooth and easy.  All the keys worked, all the knobs and levers and buttons did everything they were supposed to.  Even the bell chimed when I reached the end of the first line, prompting me to use the return bar to start a new line.  Fun, fun, fun.  Oh, how it took me back to the good old days when one needed very strong fingers, especially pinkies, to hold down the shift key to make a capital "A".


As promised on ebay, it was in mint condition.  Even the aging typewriter ribbon still has some life in it.  Hopefully it won't be too difficult to find replacement ribbons as needed because I intend to use this little beauty.  It will sit next to my computer in my scrapbook room.  Oftentimes I have felt a typewriter would be quite useful when trying to print on something other than 8.5 x 11 paper.

Sometimes there is nothing so powerful as a bit of nostalgia, a momentary backward glance at how life used to be.  The reminders are there, too, of how most things have gotten easier, been improved.  That was very apparent when I hit a wrong letter and wasn't able to find any delete key to make immediate, easy corrections.  Things have certainly changed with the times, but if we are wise, we will pause occasionally to remember and cherish the building blocks of our lives, the tools used to set the foundations that we continue to build upon.

I love my typewriter, but most of all I love the memory of a similar one used years ago that bore the fingerprints of my grandmother as well as my own.  I love that I was able to learn to type.  It opened up a world for me that has filled my life with joy.  Now I just need to strengthen my pinkies again...