Stepford or Crazy?

I remember my Dad telling me once that you could call a sane person crazy and they would just laugh, but if you called a crazy person crazy...they would show how much they were. Anyway, I also remember my Dad telling me I would have had a lot more dates as a teenager if I would just stop intimidating the hell out of people, but... everyone needs a hobby.

After my previous blog, and reading further in this one, you might begin to conclude that I am some sort of femi-nazi, I can assure you that I am not. I also do not belong to the "in" crowd of my ward at church. I am sure they are perfectly nice women who worry about framing the Proclamation and matting it with pictures of their family. They worry about getting together for their Pampered Chef Parties, choir practice, soccer and who knows what else. I don't belong in that world because I wasn't raised to spend my time on trivialities, and yes, I consider those things trivialities. So needless to say I don't spend a lot of time socializing with them, worrying about things they do, what they say, or even what they think.

I do have a few close friends in the ward and while I don't get to spend a lot of time together, we are pretty compatible. So, this morning when one of them called me, we started chatting and she said she had recommended that a woman in our ward (who is part of the "in" crowd) ask me about raising chickens. Apparently the woman was very surprised and then said, "Allison Dederick? Well...isn't she...bipolar?". Now at this point in the conversation, both my friend and I laughed. Seriously? We then speculated, because this person really doesn't know me at all, on who had diagnosed me and just how many "good sisters" are worried about me. So I guess word in the middle of the ward is that I am right there on the edge...(in retrospect I probably shouldn't have told the Primay President I was thrilled with getting a pistol last year for Christmas)

Of course the first thing I have to do after I hang up is to call my mother and sister, they thought it was pretty funny too. My mother then became very indignant and said it was because they were a little green eyed. My sister Nancy speculated it was because I actually have my own personality and feel emotion as opposed to all the Stepford Mormon women who simply "turn the other cheek" and never let anything show, after all you are supposed to just take it with a smile. Then I called my husband...who just got mad. It makes me wonder if I was still a size 22 if I would be unbalanced? After all, I can hear it now, "well, she might be thin, but you know...".

Just for the record, no, I have never been diagnosed with bi-polar, manic, schizophrenia, or any other mental illness. I do, however, have a lot of sympathy for those with actual disorders. But for those women in my ward, who have time on their hands to worry about me...I appreciate your concern, how Christ like of you. But let's just let the cat out of the bag, my Dad had it right. Maybe if I didn't intimidate the hell out of you...you wouldn't have to make up stories about me.

Point of View

Well, last night as Emily and I were on our way home from getting freshly dyed, waxed, and cut (yes, we go to the hairdresser together), we got into a discussion about working Mom's. Emily has a lot of professional aspirations, including marine biology (my preferred), Egyptology, or novelist. As a result she has even picked a college of choice...in Florida. Anyway, I was telling her how some people believe that a mother should never work outside of the home, and some people think it is a pretty big sin that her mother has worked outside the home all but one year of her life. She was pretty baffled by this...apparently the blond dye is working on the brain cells during YW.

So I told her my story of an institute director who informed me, during my junior year of college, that I was wasting my time actually taking the higher level science courses, after all I should really just focus on finding a husband. He went on to inform me that women didn't really need a degree, we just needed to land a worthy priesthood holder. If you are wondering, no I never went to Institute again. I have had people inform me that if I would just grow a garden, I wouldn't even miss my income. I have had people inform me with a smug attitude on their face that they have never worked outside of the home since they were married (imagine their stress when their husband was laid off).

I guess that some people would say my mother never worked outside the home, but I will be quick to point out that she did drive a swather, bailer, and disc. That she rode horses on the mountain from daylight to dark, after packing lunches for everyone, and kept the books for the ranch, among many other jobs. So I would never call my Mother a non-working Mom.

So it was with great confusion that I tried to explain to Emily that the church really encourages women to stay home. I'm not sure how to explain this, since given current economic issues, I don't even understand it. But I informed her that someday when she was older and the proper amount of guilt had been applied, she could then yell at me for being a bad Mom and working outside the home. After all, she should think of all the time I spent away from her while working...she thought for a moment...(the blond look of confusion)...then announced that if she had anything to talk to a therapist in the future about, it would be the amount of time Cub Scouts took.

Ellen

I miss my sister today. Ellen would be having her 47th birthday today, she has been gone for a little over 10 years. I know that 20 years of her life were spent battling a rare disease, but she still managed to have a pretty good attitude all things considered. I miss her humor, her generosity, and just her.

The other night I had a dream about her, we were getting ready for some family event and we were spending the day in town, going to all her favorite haunts...K-mart, Dollar stores, etc. I turned to her and said, "Man Ellen, I miss you so much. How come you never come around very much anymore?" She just gave me this funny look, and then I said, "Oh yeah, because you're dead." Then we just laughed. To some people that might sound really strange, but that is just how our family is.

I miss Ellen chasing my cat out of her room, buying way to much Avon from her, and hearing Christmas songs coming from her room in June. I even miss visiting her in the hospital and going down to the cafeteria together (even though I wasn't really hungry). But most of all I just miss her. I know how difficult her physical limitations were, and I wouldn't wish that she were still here in her suffering...but that doesn't stop me from missing her today.

Happy Birthday Ellen

Politically Incorrect...again

I have a question, do you still get your 72 virgins if it's an infidel woman who pumps you full of lead? I think it was awesome the way Sgt Kimberly Munley took care of the idiot at Fort Hood. Today, I couldn't be prouder of my gender. It makes me want to exercise my freedom this weekend with a little target practice. Still, I am so sorry for the families of those who were his victims, and will keep them in my prayers.

When Scott and I first moved to Utah his TDY rate was over 200 days a year (that means he was gone a lot). Scott asked me if I wanted a handgun for protection while he was away, but he said, "If we get you a gun, you need to decide right now that you are willing to kill someone." He's a pretty smart guy, and he was right. Before purchasing something like that you do need to make that decision because the heat of the moment isn't the time, and hesitation means your gun can be used against you. At the time I decided that I could kill someone, but didn't want to live with the memory of it. So we didn't get me a gun.

Then I had children, and realized I could live with a lot of things. By that time we had moved on base, so I thought I was pretty safe. After all, where in the world could you be safer than surrounded by some of our nation's finest? We were only on base 3 months before there was a murder next door. Hmmm.

Anyway, obviously from my previous posts our family is comfortable with weaponry now. I didn't grow up with handguns, but since marrying a guy who is really good with them, my children and I are now much more familiar with them. No, we aren't right wing nut jobs that obsess about them. However, I do feel that if they are going to be in my home, everyone there should learn to use them and respect them. After all, it isn't guns that kill people...it's bullets!

But, I digress. This post was about Fort Hood, and how impressive that a woman on traffic duty rose to challenge and did just what she had trained for. How many lives did she save yesterday?

Dogtober

Well, I haven't posted for a few weeks because I have had a little residual stress from the lovely dog days of October! It started well, but quickly went to the dogs (and I mean that literally). It began with Frank, that lovely foster dog that Nancy and I have been taking care of, disappearing one day. Frantically we checked all the shelters and pounds, finally calling Jason to let him know Frank had gone missing. Jason came out and spent the afternoon looking everywhere, discovering only that one of my cousins female dogs was "in the mood" and they had run off together. The next morning at 4:00 am Frank announced his arrival back, and seemed to be fine.

That afternoon as I came home I discovered an animal control officer on my street, who pronounced my beloved Dudley as a "dangerous dog". Claiming she had the authority from some slanderous accusations, she took my precious boy into custody. As they say, "Hell hath no fury..." after some serious talking to my cousin and her offspring, I was allowed to pay $200 and get my darling back. There are however, stipulations...apparently my mother's nearly 200 acres are not enough for three dogs, and the officer is claiming that I must have my dogs so they cannot access any public land. Even though she did not observe them on any public land, they could have if they had wanted to and even though they didn't she still fined me accordingly, and combined it with the threat of her return.

Additionally while all this drama was going on, Frank went missing again. Apparently he had enjoyed the sins of the flesh and went on down the road looking for a little action. Since I had checked with and left contact information at all the shelters previously, they knew where to call. Frank had gone about a mile down the road before a neighbor snagged him and called. But, now that he has gotten all carnal minded, Frank won't stay home and Allie has an appointment for him at the Planned Pethood Center on Thursday. (I can't even make that name up and I'm pretty sure that is were some of the stimulus money must have gone.) So once Frank is nipped and tucked hopefully he will just stay home.

But, back to my dogs, they are adjusting pretty well to being house dogs, although Dudley hasn't grasped the concept that the living room is not his bedroom. For now they are either with me or sadly tied up in the back yard. I have a lot of things I would like to say about the situation, but my Mother, and an attorney friend of mine, has warned me to behave, that and I love my dogs.