Quote of the Day, part XLIV

Me, during Family Home Evening: "How can we repent of 'persecuting your brother'?"
William: "Pick me! I just barely did it!"

Jacob, when I showed him the twin coverlet I had purchased for his bed right before we moved:
"I like that. Whoa, wait! Are we really going to get beds that big?"
Me, thinking that this boy has been sleeping on a camping cot on the floor for entirely too long.
This move didn't come a day too early!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

25 Things About Anna

Friendly readers,

This was a challenge given to me by about 18 Facebooker friends. Since I don't know how to post it on Facebook because I don't know how to do anything on Facebook because a friend set it up for me, and all I know is my password, and pretty much that Facebook account is for all my "friends" to contact each other, I'm posting it here. Some day when I have time, I'll have to figure out Facebook. Actually, I probably won't because I'd rather do almost anything else.

Anyway, the challenge was to come up with 25 facts about self that may or may not be common knowledge. Most is common knowledge because I talk too much. If you get to the end of this lengthy list I think you should let me know so I can send you a medal.

1. Growing up our favorite part of the day was when Dad would come home from work. It was a wild dash to the door to hug and kiss him, then we’d tear into his brief case to pull out all the scratch paper he’d brought home for us and almost always find a little treat. It was either a hot chocolate packet or a Lipton soup packet and sometimes a hard candy from the law firm’s break room. It made life worth living!

2. I’ve never talked baby talk to my babies—it’s degrading. Just because they’re little doesn’t mean they’re morons.

3. I love old things. I love old houses especially. I’m afraid I vexed my poor husband when we were looking for a house to buy. It became the running joke that a house didn’t pass my inspection because “it didn’t ‘speak’ to me.”

4. I have been told I have a strange sense of humor. I don’t think so. I think I’m funny. But I have discovered that it’s not universally appreciated. For instance, I was at the grocery store recently. Mayonnaise was on the list. I went to the aisle and stood next to an old woman who was deliberating about which one to purchase, “Mayonnaise just seems to have gotten so expensive all of a sudden!” I answered, “Well, there’s oil prices for you.” I thought it was funny, but she looked at me and said gently, “Oh my dear, I’m sure it’s not the same kind of oil.” What? The primary ingredient in mayonnaise isn't unrefined crude oil? Oh well.

5. I was just accepted into BYU’s BGS program. Back to school for me—yay! I am a little nervous about the time commitment though, and I had a dream the night I got my letter that I was at the computer writing papers and trying to study, 12 months pregnant, fighting children hanging off lights and jumping on beds, burning food in the oven, Michael calling to say he’ll be home from work in 72 hours. I think I developed a minor ulcer just from the dream.

6. I impaled my face with some unknown pokey thing after landing a jump wrong, while on a skiing date. Thank goodness for the qualified nurse at Timberline. Apparently the wound involved a major facial nerve, and I could have had dead face for the rest of my life. Thanks, Nurse.

7. I will have given birth to 6 kids in less than 10 years. No, we are not trying to “catch up” to our mothers’ records (10 each), nor are we trying “beat” anyone. These little people are just too fascinating, and we’ve enjoyed each one of them immensely.

8. As a child I had an inordinate interest in having all food portions evenly distributed to the bean. This may have something to do with growing up with so many siblings. Who knows?

9. I drove an awful ancient baby blue Ford truck in high school, which idled particularly loudly. I delighted in putting it in neutral at stoplights and revving up—thus challenging other drivers to a race off the green. More often than not it died when I put it into gear and tried to accelerate. Sometimes not, but I never won.

10. Out of 10 kids I am told that I'm the most like my mom in looks and the most like my dad in temperament, thus the most aggravating to my mom.

11. Kellianne Evans and I are bound together forever after surviving a near-death experience with her on my lap. We flew off a 25’ cliff on an inner tube and landed in a frozen creek bed. I had short-term memory loss for some time afterwards, which proved to be endless fun for my siblings. My left eye has been slightly more dilated than my right ever since.

12. I am addicted to Dreyer’s Strawberry Fruit ‘n Juice bars. They are the perfect solution to almost any problem.

13. My figure doesn’t fit into any particular category—not really pear shaped, not an apple. I’m more like a cucumber wearing jodhpurs (except when I’m pregnant. Then I’m a gingerroot).

14. Some of the worst jokes I played were with my younger sister, Bethany. They include: putting a piece of stuffed animal ear on Miriam’s pillow after messing with it to make it look like a rotten lamb’s tail, which had fallen off one of our 4-H lambs; planting garlic saturated dish clothes at the back of Miriam’s closet to make her cloths stink; filling the lid of Miriam’s hairspray with caterpillars, which quickly died and liquefied. I could go on, but will spare you. Most of our tricks were on poor Miriam.

15. My first true love was Jim Craig (Tom Burlinson) on The Man From Snowy River. Do those feelings ever really go away? (Happy to see that this sentiment is shared by the majority of my female family.)

16. I was mistaken for a boy the first 13 years of my life—partly due to my unforgiveable haircuts, partly due to the fact that I mostly wore boy hand-me-downs, partly because I had/have a relatively boyish figure (refer to #12), and partly because half the people I came in contact with were morons (ie. man who called me "sir" when I was wearing all pink). Actually, they probably weren't--I just looked like a boy.

17. I remember Bethany babysitting like mad one winter and spring. It wasn’t her favorite way of making money, but it was lucrative and demand was high. I wondered about the sudden ambition, but never asked. When my 12th birthday rolled around in the spring I found out why when she presented me with two bikes she had purchased with her own money, one for me, one for her. We rode all over the countryside that year, and I rode it to school and back every day the year Dad had cancer so I could participate in sports. Those bikes took us a lot of miles before they died.

18. I remember frequently riding Aplomado into town with Bethany and tying him to a parking meter while we went into the Canby Ice Creamery to get a cone and some jo-jos. Then we’d ride to Dad’s law office to visit for a minute, then eat our treats as we rode home. When that horse died, it was like burying a member of the family.

19. My favorite book is The Great Divorce, by C. S. Lewis.

20. I detest the smell of spit, especially when rubbed between two warm dirty hands. However, spitting contests (seeds, pits, etc.) I fully condone. That's just good fun, and I happen to be a champion at it.

21. My greatest fear is public speaking. Give me the rack, but don’t make me speak in church. (I have a talk tomorrow…)

22. I once tried to run away from home when I was 9. I put some fruit and crackers in a bag and hid in our neighbor’s tree house in the back woods until dusk came and things got creepy. So I snuck home, jumped on the trampoline for a while, then crawled in my bedroom window and went to bed. No one missed me.

23. Crazy people make me nervous—all except the guy outside a train station in Paris, who followed us, or rather Miriam, my older sister with beautiful icey blue eyes, making meowing noises at her. Finally, we turned around and he said to her passionately in broken English, “You…you have eyes like cat! Meow!” I liked that crazy guy.

24. My first kiss…well my first kiss was an embarrassed peck from my “boyfriend” (meaning we were required to eat lunch together, and I avoided him at great length the rest of the time) just before getting on the bus on the last day of eighth grade. Totally mortifying because Miriam’s best friend was standing right there, and immediately reported the incident to her. My first real kiss—meaning a 2 second peck—was when I was 15 from a French boy named Samuel (spoken wistfully). It was in Southern France on a tree-lined trail leading from a sunny lake to a secret place in the woods where my three sisters and I were hiding out for a few days (fun story). He was the best looking boy there with his glossy black hair and eyes and sunbrowned skin, and he was the only one NOT wearing speedos. Beat that!

25. I love the smells of blooming daphne, my grandma's house, apple blossoms, lasagna, moth balls, vanilla hazelnut herbal tea with milk, horses and tack, fresh cut hay fields, clean babies, my jasmine perfume, damp pine forests, ginger, fresh paint (the smell of productivity!). These are some of the smells I love.

Friday, March 6, 2009

A Good Reminder

"I should never have known how ladies and gentlemen really behaved, if it hadn't been for Colonel Pickering. He always showed what he thought and felt about me as if I were something better than a common flower girl. You see, apart from the things one can pick up, the difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she is treated. I shall always be a common flower girl to Professor Higgins, because he always treats me like a common flower girl, and always will. But I know that I shall always be a lady to Colonel Pickering, because he always treats me like a lady, and always will."

Eliza Doolittle, My Fair Lady

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Axis & Allies

Two boys I know are looking forward to a life time of story swapping in their "second native language"... My two brothers, Pietr and Adam, both received their mission calls recently, both to Taiwan (though they will miss each other in the MTC by a day).
Congratulations, Pater V. and Boose on your mission calls! Thank you both for being such great examples to us and our children of how to live honorably and how to reach wholesome goals. Don't forget...
And speaking of wholesome goals, congratulations also to my very favorite in-laws on your mission call. Ron and Carol Allen will be stirring up trouble in the Manchester, England mission for the next two years.

We will miss you, and we wouldn't have you spend your next two years any other way!

Love, M, A, J, I, C, W, G, and bambino

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Valentine's Day

Generally Michael and I give the "gift of self" (as my older sister likes to say) for minor holidays like this--back rubbing coupons, a delectable dessert and a date, etc. But this year Michael out did himself by presenting me with the project that he and an old Austrian woodworker in our ward (repaired some of the most famous cathedrals in Salzburg after WWII) had been working on for over half a year. Michael loved this time with him to speak German exclusively and reminisce about the beauties of that corner of the world. They began with some raw planks of black walnut and created this out of it.
I wish I had photos of the whole process but, alas, I wasn't allowed to see it until Valentine's. Franz, our friend, affectionately joked that Michael had gone over the entire thing at least thrice with a dentist's tooth buffer to get it just right for me. I am so excited for the last step (only the base is left--can you tell?) to be complete so we can move it inside and enjoy this beautiful work of art! (Though I know I'm going to cringe for the first year each time a child touches it, let alone eats off it!)

I decided to get fancy too, and I put together a stupid poem and picture for Mikey to put in his office. If it were a contest, I'd say I won!
"We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms--to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.

"And there were always choices to make. Every day, every hour, offered the opportunity to make a decision...which determined whether or not you would become a plaything of circumstance, renouncing freedom and dignity.... In the final analysis it becomes clear that the sort of person the prisoner became was the result of an inner decision, and not the result of camp influences. He may retain his human dignity even in a concentration camp."

--Viktor Frankl, Man's Search For Meaning

Monday, February 9, 2009

Culture?

One question: What exactly did I do wrong?

P. S. For some background info on Isaac's "turkey feet" visit my sister Rivka's blog. There you will have the pleasure of meeting Isfahan the donor, experience a Mikkelsen family holiday, and see what we were all doing whilst our men were away kayak surfing in the tropics.

Irreverence And Frozen Underwear

This year church has been moved to a difficult time of day for our family. Right smack in the middle of naps for the two youngest boys. Consequently, we find ourselves constantly battling tears and tantrums during the first hour. This Sunday, however, was different. It was a battle of another kind.

Michael and I have tried to be diligent in the keeping of high expectations during sacrament meeting: no food, no playing or reading books until after the sacrament is over, folded arms and no talking or wiggling during the sacrament, etc. We were doing pretty well keeping things under control yesterday during this special 15 minutes until James decided he was done being reverent. He wanted to get down and walk around. Since it was that or a tantrum (and I was feeling extra pregnant that day), I let him down to walk back and forth along our row. Naturally, all the kids watched him for lack of something more interesting. At one point he lost his balance (the poor boy already walks like a drunken sailor) and knocked his head on the back of the pew in front of us, which threw his body into the bench, then he bounced back hitting his head on the pew, then body on the bench...about six times. Our entire family burst into muffled laughter. We got a grip for about 3 seconds, then looked at each other and laughed again even harder. Michael was bent over as if praying, hands covering face, but the telltale shake of the shoulders gave him away. Then I spotted the people behind us laughing because we were, then the people in front and on the side, and the second counselor on the stand. It was irreverent. Clara was sent out to get ahold of herself, and I almost sent myself out. What a scene!

Fast forward a few hours. What to make for dinner? Let's look in the freezer. How about some frozen corn, frozen chicken, frozen...

...underwear?

The kids thought it would be a fun experiment to moisten their underwear (tap water) and freeze it to see just how it would feel going on. Don't know that I'll be reporting back the results, though the hypothesis is that they'll feel "cold and crunchy."

...And then somebody stole Jake's underwear straight from the freezer to make themselves an iced tankie. What is this world coming to?

Thursday, February 5, 2009

"I stand by the bed where a young woman lies, her face postoperative, her mouth twisted in palsy, clownish. A tiny twig of the facial nerve, the one to the muscles of her mouth has been severed. She will be thus from now on. The surgeon had followed with religious fervor the curve of her flesh; I promise you that. Nevertheless, to remove the tumor in her cheek, I had to cut the little nerve. Her young husband is in the room. He stands on the opposite side of the bed and together they seem to dwell in the evening lamplight, isolated from me, private. Who are they, I ask myself, he and this wry mouth I have made, who gaze at and touch each other so generously, greedily? The young woman speaks, "Will my mouth always be like this?" she asks. "Yes," I say, "it will. It is because the nerve was cut." She nods and is silent. But the young man smiles. "I like it," he says, "It is kind of cute." "All at once I know who he is. I understand and I lower my gaze. One is not bold in an encounter with a god. Unmindful, he bends to kiss her crooked mouth and I am so close I can see how he twists his own lips to accommodate to hers, to show her that their kiss still works."

Richard Selzer (Mortal Lessons: Notes on the Art of Surgery)

Pirated from my dad's blog. I loved it.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Cards

I came across baby J. sharpening his skills in preparation for a trip to Vegas.

Dedicated to the Norris family.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Notes

Isaac squished his toe with a #10 can of hard red wheat while he and Jake helped me reorganize our food storage yesterday. These appeared on respective bedroom doors immediately following.
Witnessing happy interactions among my children is one of my favorite parts of being a mom.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Gringos in Panama

Two brothers and two brothers-in-law were a little concerned. Were Panamanians still free from the clutches of a Noriega-like dictator? For the good of these people, we just had to check it out ourselves. Truth be known, Anna's older brother David, (my old mission companion, aka "Junior", or "Testonie") planned a trip and I got to tag along. Younger brother Pietr (aka "Soldier") and brother-in-law Dave (aka "Marle") rounded out our little 'no hable espanol' party.

We left Portland in a foot of snow. Anna was very supportive from the inception of the idea, probably due to the nervous tick I've developed over the last year of ... opportunities for growth (work stress). A little R and R down south was a blast and really hit the spot. Not a one of us could speak Spanish, so we found friendly local "guardian angels" along the way who navigated us into a once in a life-time experience.

Don't worry Anna Allen fan club. The
sisters are already talking. These next pictures are of a hike up a densely covered and isolated jungle trail a local told us about. We swung on vines, and cooled off in some treacherous mountain runoff (Dave's knee). This waterfall was a halfway spot on a 3 hour river rafting trip that had nearly non-stop and intense rapids. This was better than anything I've done here in Oregon, there were a few spots that were class 5, most of the rest were class 3s and several 4s. Helmets were necessary, even David's pink one, (schwollie).
We discovered kayak surfing, phosphorescent plankton while night-time ocean swimming, beach bonfires, celebrated the New Year Panamanian style (blowing up mannikans with fireworks), and saw a decent amount of wildlife as well: boa constrictor, iguanas, sloth, and reef sharks.

Some we caught and cooked. Pietr caught his first fish: a yellow fin tuna, and I got this wahoo. During this trip we spotted several sea turtles, dolphins and flying fish.










We even got cozy with this crocodile. No worries, mate, I'm pretty sure she's a tame Sheila. She did like the fish scraps I tossed to her, but I couldn't quite get close enough to scratch her chin.










The snorkeling was the best I've ever seen, and the fried chicken and fried bread (local cuisine) was great. A great trip with a great group of gringos.



Wednesday, January 21, 2009

The Best Christmas Present Ever

I was blessed with parents capable of thinking "outside the box." This manifests itself in various ways, but where the grandchildren are concerned it is particularly fun. Isaac, for instance, is a person Grandma Mikkelsen understands. So when she says she has something special for him, you know it's gonna be good. This Christmas one of his gifts was...Turkey feet! When Grandma and Grandpa butchered a turkey for Christmas dinner, they kept the feet with a certain little boy in mind. After neatly cleaning and preserving them, they were presented to Isaac, who was ecstatic. The boy hasn't been the same since. For the rest of our Christmas holiday the turkey feet were either in his pocket or tucked up his sleeves for hands to startle and scare people. He was introduced to some new people, and when he pulled out his hand to shake...turkey feet. When he was told to go wash his hands for dinner, his reply was, "But they're already clean. They've been baked!"

An alarming moment was when he was trying to get out of the car one night, and as he jumped over the back seat he tripped and landed head down in a heap on the floor. I ran over to see what had happened and found him crying in fetal position with his nasty turkey feet (tucked into his sleeves for hands) over his face. My wild imagination took over and I screamed, believing for one half-second that the child was morphing into a creature right before me. Ridiculous, I know, but it was dark and I didn't recognize them. Isaac was delighted with my reaction and began to laugh through his tears.

Moral of the story: If you want to make your son/grandson really happy, give him your left-over turkey feet.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

The Granite Man

Flash to the past: My older sister, Miriam, was visiting early last year. Over a large bowl of buttery popcorn, we hatched a plan to force our post-partum bodies into shape (James was born on August 15, and her little Max (above) was August 16. What fun those two are going to have!). What better than a nearly half-marathon on rugged mountain trails? So we both diligently trained and recruited. By the time the actual race came we had over a dozen siblings and spouses, Mom and Dad, and some loyal family friends signed up to race with us. Sadly, my sister Rivka and husband Chace couldn't make it, but were "there in spirit."

That glistening early June morning Michael, my brother David, his wife Kathryn, and Michael's brother David (above), headed to the mountains of southern Oregon, southwest of Medford. There we waited for the rest of our party to arrive. At one point a car that looked just like my sister's drove up and I made a fool of myself flagging it down. Then it stopped and a tall strange man, who looked a lot like a Burt Reynolds wannabe, jumped out and started vigorously warming up. Our party burst into laughter at the scenario, typical for me. Then the strange man jogged over to us with something like a swagger, and with a little too much familiarity asked where to go next. There was something strangely familiar about this tacky-looking fellow.

It was my father. As Miriam said in her version of events, "I should have known something weird would happen when you put more than two members of my family together." He and my younger sister, Bethany (left), had cooked up this outfit long ago. Long black shiny spandex, complete with blue flames, with short running shorts on top, nasty sheer tank top (including, for all you Office lovers, band-aids!). Bethany had sprayed his hair and moustache blackish, and the chain was donated by my brother Matt. It was sincerely creepy. Only a person as naturally dignified and dapper as my father could have pulled this one off successfully. Miriam makes a good point, that it was especially funny in the context of all the people around us, most of whom were very serious athletes wearing similar outfits.

So we invaded the Southern Oregon Granite Man for our first annual family run. David ran through the starting gate backwards; Mom and Dad leisurely walked, picking flowers, catching insects and mountain lizards the whole way and came in dead last by about 45 minutes. Bethany (who was 5 months pregnant) had forgotten her shoes, so she was running on newly purchased runners. She crossed the finish line with her husband Dave by her side and headed straight for the lake to bathe her blistered bloody feet. I don't think it was the most fun for her but she was a good sport. My sister Elizabeth (5 months post partum) and Kathryn (above) ran together, and Miriam and I crossed the finish line together, ending with a cartwheel for good luck. Five of our group earned medals for running placing times in their age groups. My brother Pietr (above, with Miriam) won first! Others should have won awards for pure grit. It was not an easy race. There was a significant climb in altitude for the entire first two+ miles, and the rest of the course was up and down. But it was completely worth it to be able to run through some of the most beautiful country in Oregon with some of my favorite people on earth.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Family Pictures

I dread family pictures with all my heart. As my family gets bigger, I begin to appreciate/understand why I can only remember two family pictures formally initiated by my mother. Those are not happy memories, and I was only the sulky teenager. Well, for Christmas I sacrificed a piece of myself for M's and my parents' sakes, and scheduled family pictures with a very talented and patient photographer friend, Keri Blue.

Me, trying to direct:
"Okay everybody, sit nicely on the floor and look at the camera..."

"I didn't say dogpile, boys. No, really. Look at the camera now!"

Everybody sort of looking straight ahead. Good enough. "Okay, time for the kids' shot while Dad recoups. Alright, all you kids sit around the bench. We'll start with Jacob in back..."

"No. I mean it. Sit down NOW and look at the camera! This is not a jungle gym! William, stop sulking. James, don't crawl off the set. Older boys, could you please help them?"

"Good enough. Okay, let's have some fun now. Everybody sit down, we're going to try something different.... Hey, stop fighting, everybody. No, it's not Clara's fault! Michael, wake up! James, Will, stop crying. You're not going to die."

"Whatever. Kids, go play. Let's do one of just us, Michael. Smile--if you still have it in you. (These are always so embarrassing.)" "Done! Thank you, Keri! We'll see you in 7 years."

(To view in larger sizes/higher resolution, click here . Will's wink is his signature smile these days. It's worth it to peruse all the excellent pictures on her blog. For family, or friends who are interested in the full monty, go to Keri's website , to galleries, to online proofing. Let me know so I can get you the password (akmallen@yahoo.com). There are some funny ones.)

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

James!

This little boy is a bona fide expert at tormenting his older brother. At the ripe age of nine months old I saw him deliberately licking his finger and wiping it on William to provoke kaniptions, over and over again--and smiling about it. By 12 months he was handily dodging blows, and since then it's just gotten worse. This easy going James Grey is destined to be the thorn in the not-so easy going William's side. (I'm sure Michael can sympathize, having yoked himself indefinitely to me.)

We were at the grocery store two days ago and James was making a series of squeaking noises, watching William closely for any reaction. Once he got one, James' face lit up with a grin and he made that particular squeak over and over again while Will went berzerk. As we squeezed ourselves past a kid reloading the bread aisle I had had enough. "James! You knock it off and be nice!" The guy loading the bread jumped out from behind his load with wide eyes and said, "What! I didn't...!" I looked at him startled, and he looked at me, then he sheepishly slunk behind his bread mumbling something about there being too many Jameses around here. It was hilarious! I laughed the rest of the shopping trip, in between reprimanding James for teasing his brother.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Introducing #6

Since the cat's officially out of the bag, I thought I'd formally introduce you all to Arliss Drummond Allen--sex unknown, except to Clara, who is sure it's a girl because it's due to arrive on her birthday and because "we already have too many boys!" We'll see in four months... (Picture compliments of my younger sister, Bethany, who specializes in disturbing drawings/magazine manipulations of every subject. This apparently is a gothic me, with a uterus instead of a heart. Thanks again, Jaco. It warms my...heart?)