Dear Hair,

Really?  Did you REALLY have to do this today?

Here I was, thinking we were off to a really good start, and you turned on me.  I realize that I went outside.  I know the wind was blowing a little bit.  I realize our daughter stole the hairspray.

But, seriously, just this ONCE could you play nicely?

Apparently not.  See you tomorrow

Dear Boss,

Don't be creeped out. 

It's just that I miss you when you are not here.

1. Nobody else makes me laugh.
2. There is only one other person who even WALKS over here, and I hold my breath every time he does.
3. I am definitely not busy enough.

I guess the bottom line is:  COME HOME!

(Which, BTW, is EXACTLY what your wife is saying every stinkin' late night...)

Dear "Normal,"

Who are you?

When I was growing up, "normal" meant the television came on as soon as we walked in the door, popcorn on Friday nights, music playing all the time, and some fairly rude noises happening regularly in our home.  "Normal" also meant a lot of laughter, married parents who were still in love with one another, and friends who were always welcome.

Spencer's version of "normal" was much different than mine.

I remember when each of our children was born, "normal" didn't exist any more.  I remember thinking, "Someday this is all going to feel normal again."  It was always a day of celebration for me when I realized one morning--about two months after the births of each of our children that life felt "normal" again.

Right now "normal" for me means getting up and getting dressed for work.  It means that our oldest lives far away.  It means that our second child goes to work full time.  It means that there are usually just four of us at the dinner table.  (It also usually involves some rude noises.  What can I say?  I am surrounded by boys.)

In a few months, "normal" is going to change again.  Our two oldest children have chosen to serve as missionaries for our church.  I am afraid of what "normal" will feel like when they leave.  Maybe I'm easing into it slowly enough that it will be OK.  Or maybe it will be like a gigantic hole in my heart and it will take months to feel normal again.

Normal, I would appreciate it if you'd come quickly.

Dear Blog Friends,

You bless my life.  You influence my thinking.  You are in my prayers.  You make me laugh.  You make me weep.

I hope your new job works out exactly the way you want it to.

I hope the move far away is rewarding and happy for you and your family.

I love the pictures of your children and your dogs and your husband and your home and your vacation.  And yes, even your cows.

Thank you for updating me.  I would miss you if you were gone.

Dear Hospital Rats,

*First of all, let me assure you that my salutation is said with love.  My dad always calls the babies "little rat," and one of the earliest things our daughter said was, "Gwampa say me little wat."  If you hang out at a hospital--whether by choice or not--you are a hospital rat.*

Dear Earl,
God bless you, my friend.  You might have saved a life or two yesterday.  I'm so glad you went into nursing!

Dear Emily,
You are beautiful and so very loved!  How does it feel to have the most beautiful mommy in the world?

Dear Noelle,
You are beautiful and so very loved!  I fasted for you and your family yesterday.  Blessings are continuing to come your way.

Dear Jason,
You are a wise man, a marvelous husband, and a darling father.  God bless you!

Dear Heritage 3rd Ward CTR 6 class,

You are wonderful.  I prepare lessons for you, and I think of you while I'm preparing.  Sometimes I know that a particular activity is just NOT going to work. And sometimes you completely surprise me with the things that do work.  Sometimes I wonder if I am teaching you anything.  The truth is, most of you are learning everything at home.  I love it when you already know the end of the story I'm telling you.  I also love it when you DON'T know the end of the story and your eyes get big and you laugh and you raise your hands high in the air.

Today I was very proud of you, Abigail, for knowing the 4th Article of Faith ALL. BY. YOURSELF.  You were fabulous! 

I was proud of you, Eden, for keeping your hands and body to yourself.  I know sometimes that's hard. 

I love listening to you pray, McKaylee.  You are a good and a kind girl. 

You make me laugh, Logan.  I love your wonderful smile, Ashlyne.  I would love it if the two of you really DID end up married. 

Sarah, your hugs and love keep me going.

Have I mentioned that I love you?  I love you!  I hope I get to be in your class for a long, long time.

Dear Boeing,

Thank you for having a party for the employees and their families every year.  It is always fun, and today's party was no exception.  We enjoyed the inflatables and the food and the cars and the climbing wall.  We visited with the police and Sportsman's Warehouse and the utilities specialists.

The highlight was probably the chance we got to go into the facility and learn more about what our dad and husband does every day.

Working for Boeing has been really great.  Dad/Husband is very happy there.  The benefits are awesome, and we are grateful.

And if you find a fingernail in the Mr. Deburr (the vibradeburr), I'm very sorry.  You can just throw it away...

Dear Heavenly Father,

I usually keep my words between thee and me quiet and private, but this time, Father, I want to share.  I know thou art there.  I know thou hast heard my random, meandering thoughts and my thanks and my pleas.  I know that thou hast a plan for us.

Heavenly Father, my friend Noelle, has a very full plate.  Her new daughter is beautiful in every way.  Thou hast strengthened her incredibly in the past several months, and she is doing quite well.  But her heart is weak--not her heart-and-soul heart, but her HEART.  She is tiny and beautiful, but her little heart needs some work.

Please bless Emily with continued, renewed, and added health so the doctors will be able to help her.  Please bless the doctors, nurses, and other caregivers with compassion and with eyes that see and ears that hear, so they may be led by thee.  Please bless the Platts and Jason's family, who love "Elimy" but who also love her parents.  Help them to know what to do and what to say to truly bless this little family.  And please, please bless Jason and Noelle.  Continue to teach them with loving care.  Continue to strengthen their faith.  Continue to give them hope and mercy.  Bless Noelle to heal physically so she has the strength to care for herself and her husband and their little one.

I'm trying to have faith in thee through every step in life.  But Father, I want Emily to live.  Please, please bless her to live, and to do it with strength and joy.

I love thee.

Dear Olive Garden,

What you did right tonight:

• Your hosts and hostesses were fabulously friendly.
• We were seated in less than 5 minutes.
• The waiter sped the meal along so we could eat and still make it to our movie.
• The food was really good.

What you didn't do right:

• The associate server brought our food, and I asked for a box.  He didn't bring one.
• The maitre d' came and talked to us.  We asked for a box.  He didn't bring one.
• A busboy walked by, and we asked him for a box.  He brought one; but a waitress came by and took it away before I could even touch it.
• Our waiter came by.  My food was still untouched on my plate.  We asked for a box, and he finally brought one.

I am seriously disappointed.

In good news, I have a lot of leftovers to eat this weekend.

Dear Boss's Boss,

Here's the thing:

Most of the time I do not like you.  I find you shallow and offensive.  I find you rude and condescending.  I think you're a brat and a bully.

But every once in a while you say something that I can really relate to.

Like today, when you didn't want to go to that family reunion?  Yeah, I can totally relate.  The fact that the reunion was your in-laws?  I can relate to that, too.

I'm trying to come up with some profound lesson in this.  Maybe I should learn that there is something to like in everyone.  Maybe I should not hate you and just like you for who you are. 

Or maybe family reunions are just universally hated.

Dear Blogosphere,

It occurs to me that I am not really a writer of anything exciting like novels or articles or screenplays.  I'm not a writer of anything NOT exciting like cookbooks or instruction manuals or coverprint for DVDs.  What I write is letters.

So here I am, Blogosphere, embarking on a journey of life through my own correspondence.  Maybe I will write to the clouds or the trees.  Maybe I will write to the homeless person on the corner.  Maybe I will write to you.

Will anyone care?  Probably not.  In fact, in a way this is an experiment in social media.  I am well aware that blogging is becoming passe, taken over by small, insubstantial "correspondence" in Twitter and Facebook.  So my letters will not be announced anywhere.  I will not advertise anywhere.  I will just write and see where it goes.

It will probably go nowhere.  But you and I, Blogosphere, will know I was here.