Blogs have always been one of the most intimidating things to me. The dreaded first entry has been weighing on my mind the moment one of my professors assigned this activity.
What can you say in a first entry to convince the world that you’re high on life and not feeling down in the dumps? Overly emotional people drive me crazy! For this very reason I’ve avoided the keyboard. I’m feeling like an emotional woman- not a very fond feeling if I do say so myself.
This past week I’ve be re-acclimating to a place that I’ve called home for the past two years. Most college students never refer to their school housing, whether it is an apartment or house, as ‘home’. Seriously! I’m convinced it’s taboo to say, “I’m just going home to get a few things.” People automatically think you’re from Provo or Orem if you let such a phrase slip.
Let the record be set straight- I AM FROM CALIFORNIA- not Utah, not Texas, and definitely not Canada. For pete sakes people! I’m a born and raised US citizen…and I like it that way.
‘Home’ is a word that has more meaning to me than it does for most of the twenty year old population. I had my home taken from me when I was 18. My home was one of contention. It was one where you could still find refuge after a stressful day at school and always count on freshly baked cookie. Part of the reason I bake so gosh darn much is due to that longing for a home that no longer exists.
I can hear my mother’s heart break every time we get on this subject. My new home is good; far better than adequate in fact, but memories can’t be made at the drop of a hat and my stash lies buried within the foundation of Bennett Valley.
My ‘home’ history is disclosed purely because I want you all to know that you can find another home. Who says you can’t have more than one? As one door closes, another opens and MAN, the most amazing family opened their San Diego door to me for the past two months.
The Moores
I wish every one on the planet could conceive and partake of the amount of pure joy this family possess. When I think of a Utopian society, I think of every family being like the Moores. If it were so, world hunger would be solved because of the open pantry rule. No one would feel like a bench warmer in life because, as stated in the family motto, which is recited once a week, every week, they are a team. They are a bunch of seemingly common people that have obtained uncommon goals because of each others support and love.
The Moore patriarch, Pat, has become a surrogate father for me. Whether he likes to admit it or not, the man is freaking awesome. As a child, I considered him a rather intimidating figure. Unlike my father, he is slow to anger in a heated situation, and never likes to be the center of attention. Uncle Pat’s style is very chill. He is unnervingly calm in almost every setting. The only time I can recall him being even remotely fired up, if that is what we must call it, in the two months I lived there was when he was watching Genn Beck on TV, or when he talks about the Book of Mormon. His passion for this country and the principles it was built on surpasses none, but his testimony of the Book of Mormon is so firm that I can honestly say he has a sure knowledge. Uncle Pat is a supreme example of a husband, father, and servant of the Lord.
Lady D (Dyanna) is a mother. I would never use such a powerful title to describe a women unless she deserves it. Walks with Dy were too therapeutic. I die softly everyone morning I wake to find that I don’t have the hour or so with a most loving, caring, and powerful woman. It was in those not-so-quiet moments of huffing and puffing (yes… we would get our walk on, and we would do it right!) that I felt closer to her and in an odd way, to my own mother.
Dy has reminded me that thinking of others is an attribute that belongs to a superior woman, a daughter of God, and consequently allows bliss on earth. She opens up her home to all who need the healing power it provides. She opened up her home to me! That fact alone promotes her to sainthood in the life after- I am convinced.
For lack of time, I can’t adequately describe my feelings for Beer, Ky, Brinda, and Sawanna, so I won’t. That will have to be a later entry. Rest assured, their entries will reflect the amount of joy they brought into my life.
I love this family. I love what they have done for me. I love what they do for others. And, I especially love that they are all each other has and they act that way.
4ever Moore friends…4ever Moore
What can you say in a first entry to convince the world that you’re high on life and not feeling down in the dumps? Overly emotional people drive me crazy! For this very reason I’ve avoided the keyboard. I’m feeling like an emotional woman- not a very fond feeling if I do say so myself.
This past week I’ve be re-acclimating to a place that I’ve called home for the past two years. Most college students never refer to their school housing, whether it is an apartment or house, as ‘home’. Seriously! I’m convinced it’s taboo to say, “I’m just going home to get a few things.” People automatically think you’re from Provo or Orem if you let such a phrase slip.
Let the record be set straight- I AM FROM CALIFORNIA- not Utah, not Texas, and definitely not Canada. For pete sakes people! I’m a born and raised US citizen…and I like it that way.
‘Home’ is a word that has more meaning to me than it does for most of the twenty year old population. I had my home taken from me when I was 18. My home was one of contention. It was one where you could still find refuge after a stressful day at school and always count on freshly baked cookie. Part of the reason I bake so gosh darn much is due to that longing for a home that no longer exists.
I can hear my mother’s heart break every time we get on this subject. My new home is good; far better than adequate in fact, but memories can’t be made at the drop of a hat and my stash lies buried within the foundation of Bennett Valley.
My ‘home’ history is disclosed purely because I want you all to know that you can find another home. Who says you can’t have more than one? As one door closes, another opens and MAN, the most amazing family opened their San Diego door to me for the past two months.
The Moores
I wish every one on the planet could conceive and partake of the amount of pure joy this family possess. When I think of a Utopian society, I think of every family being like the Moores. If it were so, world hunger would be solved because of the open pantry rule. No one would feel like a bench warmer in life because, as stated in the family motto, which is recited once a week, every week, they are a team. They are a bunch of seemingly common people that have obtained uncommon goals because of each others support and love.
The Moore patriarch, Pat, has become a surrogate father for me. Whether he likes to admit it or not, the man is freaking awesome. As a child, I considered him a rather intimidating figure. Unlike my father, he is slow to anger in a heated situation, and never likes to be the center of attention. Uncle Pat’s style is very chill. He is unnervingly calm in almost every setting. The only time I can recall him being even remotely fired up, if that is what we must call it, in the two months I lived there was when he was watching Genn Beck on TV, or when he talks about the Book of Mormon. His passion for this country and the principles it was built on surpasses none, but his testimony of the Book of Mormon is so firm that I can honestly say he has a sure knowledge. Uncle Pat is a supreme example of a husband, father, and servant of the Lord.
Lady D (Dyanna) is a mother. I would never use such a powerful title to describe a women unless she deserves it. Walks with Dy were too therapeutic. I die softly everyone morning I wake to find that I don’t have the hour or so with a most loving, caring, and powerful woman. It was in those not-so-quiet moments of huffing and puffing (yes… we would get our walk on, and we would do it right!) that I felt closer to her and in an odd way, to my own mother.
Dy has reminded me that thinking of others is an attribute that belongs to a superior woman, a daughter of God, and consequently allows bliss on earth. She opens up her home to all who need the healing power it provides. She opened up her home to me! That fact alone promotes her to sainthood in the life after- I am convinced.
For lack of time, I can’t adequately describe my feelings for Beer, Ky, Brinda, and Sawanna, so I won’t. That will have to be a later entry. Rest assured, their entries will reflect the amount of joy they brought into my life.
I love this family. I love what they have done for me. I love what they do for others. And, I especially love that they are all each other has and they act that way.
4ever Moore friends…4ever Moore
Sarah Miles Moore! I had no idea you had a blog. Thank you for your very sweet words. I miss you like you can't believe. You are such a clever writer. You need to come home now. Put more pictures on your blog. I want to see your pretty face:) I love you!
ReplyDelete