Esquire Coffinberry's Great-Grand-Niece

If you're still following this site, thank you. That's a lot of years that have passed. Facebook largely claimed my writing, but now I'm beginning some larger, longer works that I shall probably publish here.  This is just seeing if I can still log in! Fabulous!

Today was the first time I logged into the dashboard in years... oops! lots of unanswered replies stuck in moderation. So sorry! Blogging was all the rage in 2005 when I started this blog. But by 2010 most of this kind of conversation had moved to Facebook, I guess. Looking back (can it be almost a decade?) it was a great journal. I am stunned to think that all of my babies have learned to drive, all my boys became Eagle Scouts and served missions, my daughter-one-and-only is herself half-way through the Junior year of high school and is a BSA scout herself, that empty nesting is around the corner, that I have been a licensed attorney for over 6 years now and running my own firm for more than 4.  I was right about Harry Potter being a horcrux; wrong about grandbabies before a decade was out, but right about girlfriends (I even have a wonderful daughter-in-law). In less than a month, I will be 50 years old. If I never get around to writing ever again on this blog, I want you to ...

Having just discovered that the Millennial Star is scanned and online, I went hunting to see if there were any more poems by Mary Ann Morton. Just found one, in Volume 10, No. 9, May 1, 1848: Answer to Zion by Miss Mary Ann Morton Gladly, dear sister, would we leave The shores of Babel, and receive The call that is addressed With cheerful sympathy resign The ties that round our feelings twine, And journey to the West. We do believe the mission sent To call the nations to repent, That were by sin oppress'd. They may obey the Saviour's voice, Obtain remission, and rejoice With thousands in the West. The dangers of the deep we'd brave, Depending on His power to save, Who is for ever blest. Yes onward, Sister, would we go, Columbia is the land we know, Our home is in the West! Flamstead, Hertfordshire. She apparently used her maiden name as a pen-name after marriage, as shown with this example published in Vo...

Last winter, I listened as my friend Danica shared her witness that the gospel is indeed sweet in our lives. She mentioned the opening words to the hymn “Sweet is the Peace the Gospel Brings,” and as she spoke, in my mind I heard the familiar words, but with a different tune. I tried to capture the tune on a scrap of paper fished from my bag. At home that afternoon, the music pouring onto the page began to remind me of flowing waters and turning wheels as I began to wonder about the woman who wrote the comforting words. Mary Anne Morton was born in late 1828 or early 1829 in Lancashire, England. 1 As a young woman, she embraced the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and was baptized in August 1845. Her intense feelings about the Gospel found release in poetry, and several of her verses were published by the Church newspaper in Britain, the Millennial Star. One of these poems was “Sweet is the Peace the Gospel Brings. 2 This poem describes the path of change ...

Can it be nearly two years since I last posted here? Got word this morning that my grandmother's brother passed away; I think I only met him once, when I was very very little. But it feels like one more lost connection here on earth. I hope it is one more connection in Heaven. Four years ago today, my 13-year-old nephew, Ford, passed away. I remember the heart-rending phone call from my brother, in the middle of the night, trying to tell me the unthinkable, the unfixable. Ford's parents have designated January 27th "Pay it FOwaRD" day. Would you on this day, and every day, enact a moment of kindness for someone else in his memory? Thank you.

I just wanted to say that it's ok to live life in seasons. We cannot do it all, and I don't think we are meant to. (That's why King Benjamin said not to run faster than we have strength.) We also aren't meant to do it all alone. That's one of those strange paradoxes of the gospel-- perfection requires both the individual and the community, and the perfection of both is required, but none without Christ. Sometimes, the community gives us opportunities to examine ideas, tasks, and viewpoints we haven't thought to pick up for ourselves. But just because the community happens to be offering them at the moment doesn't necessarily mean it is the right time to do it. It is merely the right time to reflect on whether the offered season might be ours right now. If it isn't your time this time, it might be next time. All things come around again. And when it is the right time, you'll know.

What to do when the playwright reads your blog, but you need to comment about how you feel in response to the play, but you are worried that divulging this might offend... awkward, isn't it? But my recollection is that writers crave to know how the writing affected the audience. So knowing that every writing contains a bit of soul-self on display--an act of courage, no doubt--I hope the playwright forgives me, because I want to share how the play and my own soul (for what is art but a dialogue between the artist's soul and the observer's soul) interacted. (A long way of saying -- please don't feel bad because of what I say, because the bad is about me, not you.) So, tonight was the annual Relief Society birthday party. And contrary to my previously stated intentions, I decided to go. The dinner was good, and somebody bravely used real plates, cups, and utensils (bless the dishwashers). As usual, I guessed wrong on where to sit (I despise that part of these parties), so ...

I open Outlook, and see a message from the women's group I "belong" to; the subject line says "E----'s Baby." Who is "E----"? I wonder. I click on the message. No help there. I still have no idea who is being talked about. But nevertheless, congratulations to "E----" and her sweet new little one. So, tell me again: Why would I say I "belong" to this group?

The wheels of justice may roll quite slowly, but they do move nonetheless. I was delighted to hear today from my Legal Aid Clinic professor that the SSDI appeal brief to the Appeals Council that I wrote during Finals last spring for my pre-adolescent client was successful! The Appeals Council remanded to the local ALJ, and the fully-favorable decision came in over the weekend. I am very excited for this young man and his family, who have been in dire need of this help. Hooray!

His heart was all a'flutter Round the bend came number ten-- Toot-toot! Peanut Butter! Would you eat a mashed peanut off of a railroad track? Mmmm, I suppose that depends on how hungry you are. In some ways, we have become much more germophobic than we need to be, I suspect. (I've long been a 5-second rule person, depending on where the offending ground is... kitchen, maybe; zoo, no way!) My husband's grandpa (who lived well into his 80's) used to say that if you haven't eaten a bushel of dirt before you die, you haven't lived. Mice and ants are a fact of life (that's why God invented cats and bug spray). Before the Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906 food manufacturers could and did put non-food extenders into goods sold to the public, to increase their profitability. As the ever-more-urban public became increasingly dependent on mass marketed ingredients and food stuffs, they had less knowledge of the processes and sources providing their edibles, and thus more...

We have a lovely snowfall outside, with sugar-coated trees and ice-coated streets. Wanting to avoid the traffic snarl likely out there (last time it did like this, my 16 mile commute took 2.25 hours), I'm leaving for work in a minute. In personal terms, these last several days have been a whirlwind of emotions, but things are looking to settle down positively now. Meanwhile, I'm not so sure about this (perhaps it is the beginning premise that is wrong... I would rather be a SMART car than a sports car, in the first place), but it was fun: I'm a Dodge Viper! You're all about raw power. You're tough, you're loud, and you don't take crap from anyone. Leave finesse to the other cars, the ones eating your dust. Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

It's a day for doing budgets and taxes, for closing up the first month of 2009 and preparing to enter the second month. Not a lot to tell about, really. A new niece was born the day Obama was inaugurated. Both cool new beginnings. I personally am exhausted after 6 weeks of focused work on two complex trials, and ready to switch gears a little. I also think I've got a sinus cold. But I have managed to put in at least 30 minutes of exercise in 25 of the last 31 days... if you know me well, you know that is remarkable. I was the kind of kid who hated PE by the time she was in second grade. But now I crave the exercise time, even when tired. It is a very strange thing. I was looking at the walnut tree outside the window (the one a squirrel planted a dozen years ago), thinking that it's another three months until the leaves begin filling the view with lush green. It seems like forever.

You Are a Dash Your life is fast paced and varied. You are realistic, down to earth, and very honest. You're often busy doing something interesting, and what you do changes quickly. You have many facets to your personality, and you connect them together well. You have a ton of interests. While some of them are a bit offbeat, they all tie together well. You friends rely on you to bring novelty and excitement to their lives. (And while you're the most interesting person they know, they can't help feeling like they don't know you well.) You excel in: Anything to do with money You get along best with: the Exclamation Point What Punctuation Mark Are You?

Our stake 's 14-18 year old youth are going on Trek this summer (Mr. Coffinberry & I are lead pa & ma, which is a quaint way of saying people-who-fill-in-for-whatever-is-needed). Of course, Trek is a large part of our young people's focus of study this year, then. In an attempt to combine this year's YM/YW theme "Be an Example of the Believers" with Trek (and respond to an itch to compose something brought on by Elder Uchtdorf's talk last fall), this is what I came up with. A handful of young people will be singing it a week from Sunday at a Trek Kickoff Fireside. Can you tell I'm a Scouter at heart (ahem, I usta be a Bobwhite, a good ol' Bobwhite too... )? Let me know what you think, and if you use it for some purpose, I'd love to know that, too.

So you thought I'd never post again. You were probably right. But here I am, with a free morning at last, and all sorts of things to think about. On my mind today: how to make a career decision. Like the puppy chasing cars--what does it expect to do when it catches one? After decades of wrestling with "you can be whatever you want to be," I finally decided to be a Lawyer. Now I find that I still have to decide what I want to be. And this in a seriously down economy. I have been offered an opportunity to put off actual practice as a lawyer for another year, and gain experience in the criminal law side of things. The pay is low, as lawyering-pay goes, but it is a job, which is a real big deal in this down-market. And the experience would be good. But I won't be doing actual law practice yet, so that means that if people ask me for legal help (as some have already done), I will have to say no to them still. But (like Tevye, I'm running out of hands here) taking this ...

Having a need of a shawl to complete a pioneer-reenactment clothing set, I bought two skeins of red yarn last month, and invented this. It is very simple. Use standard yarn (I used RedHeart brand) and a J-hook. 1. Chain (178-small) (186-medium) (194-large) (202-very large). 2. (Neck-edge) Turn, and single crochet in each chain back to beginning. (This makes a sturdy neck-edge for your shawl.) 3. (Body of shawl) Turn. *Chain 6, skip 3 stitches and make a single crochet in the 4th stitch.* Repeat between * until you get to the end of the line, ending by connecting a chain into the end of the line with a single crochet. 4. Turn. Chain 3. *Single crochet in top of the chain loop, chain 6.* Repeat until you come to the last loop in the row; attach to that loop with a single crochet. 5. Repeat Row 4 until on your last row you make only one chain 6 and fasten in with a single crochet in the top of the next loop. (Don't cut off the yarn yet. Keep going.) Scalloped Edging: This edging start...

The choir director pauses the practice. The time for our rehearsal is nearly past and gone--next week we will sing to close the adult session of stake conference. She wants us to ponder the words we sing. Oh, Savior, stay this night with me; behold, 'tis eventide... She paints a picture of words for us, the pleading of a soul who must face the world again soon, but for just this moment, feels the Spirit and wants that feeling to stay. Just a little longer. Please ? Lik e the Nephites , who touched His feet and His hands and listened all day to the sound of His voice; and with their tears begged him to stay. Abide with me. 'Tis eventide, and lone will be the night if I cannot commune with thee, Nor find in thee my light, The darkness of the world, I fear. . . I think about her words. The words bring an image to my mind. A child, in the dark, wishing for a nightlight that only a loving parent can bring. Yes, I know that craving. *** The room is dark. There are small windows, hig...

Do you think that Duct-tape Man and Recycle Girl brought home enough candy? (Egads!)

Happy Hallowe'en!