William Discovers "Meat Is Murder"

Yesterday evening an un-
suspecting group of carnivorous Barber men had a night out sans their herbivore female counterpart. Of course, meat was on the menu and they headed straight to their favorite BBQ joint while I headed to a school meeting. The following is Bill's account of the events that may change our kitchen forever, the night William discovered what Morrissey has been singing about for years, "Meat is Murder":

Part way through dinner, William looks down at the rib he is eating and asks "Dad, did this pig die of natural causes?" I replied, "No, the pig was killed." Then William said "Well, why couldn't we just use it when it died of natural causes?" I explained that if the pig were old or sick, it wouldn't taste very good, and might make us sick. You could see the wheels turning as he processed that information and mulled over how he felt about it for the next 5 minutes, at which time he said "Do they have to kill the pig to get the meat off?" I responded by asking him what part of the pig he was eating and could the pig survive without that body part? Another 5 minutes of information processing and William asks "What do they do to kill the pig." I responded that with pigs they hang them by their ankles and cut their throats and let them bleed from their necks and unfortunately this keeps them alive for a while until the blood drains out of their brain. This information was received with a face full of shock and horror (for who wouldn't be horrified to hear this while eating pork!) by both boys. They both then wanted to know about how chickens and cows were slaughtered. More horror as I described how cows are shot in the head and chickens are decapitated. William then decided it was better to be a cow than a pig. Another 5 minutes of staring at the ribs, eating smaller and smaller bites until he proclaimed "Tomorrow, I am going to become a vegetarian! I mean, if my friends can do it, I can do it." I responded he didn't need to make any life-long decisions, but encouraged him to try it for a week to see how it felt. William said "I bet I will feel a lot better, because Mom doesn't eat meat and she feels a lot better. But I am definitely not becoming Vegan, because, well, I just love sandwiches too much."

And so began our little family's week long journey into the land of fruits and vegetables. Romney decided to try it out as well (but has since proclaimed he does not want to stay vegetarian forever.) Saturday lunch was at a Japanese restaurant, where they both ordered tempura veggies on rice. They had morning star veggie sausage patties for breakfast the next day and orange veggies and rice for dinner.

A big thank you to Bill for the following:
1- giving honest descriptions of slaughterhouses 2- encouraging our boys to follow their beliefs 3- relaying this story to their mother who missed the whole thing due to a school meeting!


*Veggie Update*: It has been a week and William has declared he is going to be vegetarian forever (that is a long time) and Romney is going to be almost completely vegetarian from now on ("I am only going to eat meat every once in a while.") I have a feeling William has influenced Romney's decision a bit because I woke up this morning listening to this conversation taking place: Romney: "I am going to be vegetarian from now on too, William! This is great because then we can get the vegetarian group discount." :)

Another Brick in His Wall

"We don't need no education". . . At least according to Romney. He is not a little man who enjoys the whole process of leaving home to go to school to be with friends and learn. Nope, not him. He would rather "stay home and hang out with you all day". It is hard not to compare your children, so I won't. Suffice it to say it is obvious when it comes to school, they are unique individuals. William is more than happy to get some space. Romney loves to stay close. If I were still interested in homeschooling- William might cry. Romney would throw a party.
Romney has the same teacher he had last year. He loves her. They are very funny together. Last year he was in a 1st/2nd grade classroom, but this year it is a 2nd/3rd grade blend with lots of new friends to make. Even with a wonderful teacher, great kids and the most amazing learning atmosphere of openness and discovery (no desks, no homework, no grades!) he still hates being away.


Romney's Top 5 things that happened on his first day of school were as follows: 1.) Pringles in his lunch 2.) Making a new friend named Hunter M. 3.)Not getting wet playing drip, drip, splash. 4.)Seeing Christina again 5.)Getting to wear his new Domo shirt.


He survived his hot first day of school, and is home now sitting on the couch next to me as I type this. Close and cuddly telling me about the "bullet" (aka: push pin top) he found on the playground at recess. (You would think that would make Romney's top 5 list).

Cutest Namesake Ever

4 Cameras, 3 Boys, and 2 Taras descended upon Thanks-giving Point Gardens this evening to partake of their $2 Tuesdays.




As is often the case, there is a bit of a back story to this story. . .
Several months ago we had our old friends the Grays over for dinner. Well, most of them anyway. Divorce and a new wife changed the line-up in the Gray household. Dave and Bill became great friends while they worked together. Melinda and I were close friends from the summer before I left for B.Y.U. We were all very close, almost like family. When Melinda went into labor for the home-birth of Rhiannon, Bill and I packed up our young William, and hopped a flight that very morning to Portland where they lived at the time to be there to attend. Moments before we left, they surprised us by announcing they wanted Rhiannon's middle name to be "Tara" after me. Right then and there, I fell in love and Rhiannon and I were bonded forever.

Things happen and times change. Melinda moved away with the children and the marriage fell apart. We all lost that close connection we once had, only seeing each other rarely at special occasions. Until this dinner party. Rhiannon grabbed her family's camera and started snapping away, showing me proudly each shot. She offered to paint me a picture as a present and promptly went home to work on it. I have been thinking about her all summer and arranged to take her to take photos with my camera at Thanksgiving Point. We traded, her painting for a photography field trip. She was in heaven. I gave her a few pointers and she went to town, shooting everything that bloomed or buzzed.
My boys were totally inspired as well and used the other two cameras I brought as well as a cell phone camera to capture what they were seeing. I have never seen them interested in taking pictures in that way, and have promised to take just them back soon to have a turn with my camera as well.

Forever connected, that little Rhiannon and I bound by our common name and love of photography.

What A Difference A Year Can Make

This time last year was not a pretty time at our home. Let me paint you a picture. 1st day of school: 5th grader entering middle school. Ball of nerves. He scraped together enough courage to walk out the door, shoulders hunched, frown on, hiding behind hair (He hated that last skater haircut). 2nd day of school: Child under the bed hiding, crying, shouting expletives, professing he will NEVER go back to that school again. 3rd day of school: Slightly better than day before (no expletives or hiding, we consider it a success.) 4th day: Slightly better than 3rd. And so, on and so on, until a month later he told a stranger he "loved" his new school. I knew then we had turned a corner.

Jump to this morning, William's first day of 6th grade. 7:30 parental wake-up call--jumps out of bed. Comes out of room 5 minutes later, fully dressed, and smiling! Eats a giant breakfast of a homemade vegetarian egg Mcmuffin. Jumps up to do all his jobs. He is fully dressed, deodorized, washed, brushed, fed, and (most importantly) still smiling. Time check: 20 minutes to carpool (Wanting to ride in the carpool the first day of school is another first. ) Mom wants to take first day of school photos, usually a reason to frown. Not this morning. Still smiling! Carpool arrives and the child took of like a rocket-- half running/half skipping!

Can I get a Hallelujah!?!

Pet Monkey

The boys are always asking if they can have a dog. I mean, they really, really want one. They even know what kind. The problem? Their parents. Oh, we blame the allergies we all suffer from, but really, even without them, there is no way I would bring an animal into our home to take care of --I have 3 men to look after already.

Plus, I think, who needs a dog when you already have a pet monkey? As a kid growing up on Disney movies (think Swiss Family Robinson) and Michael Jackson and his friend "Bubbles" (Thriller was big when I was in elementary), I really, really, really wanted a pet monkey. My parents let us have dogs, birds, fish, and gerbils (all of which met untimely deaths or ran for their lives.)-- but they refused me my monkey (Oh, and that pony I always wanted, but that is another blog post or therapy session.)

Now I have one! We named him Romney and he is almost 8 years old. He is cute, cuddly, furry (see his hair), kinda messy, often cheeky, lovable, and, at times a little mischievous.

3 Boys and a Box

Not something you see everyday roaming the streets of Salt Lake. Three 11 year old boys followed by a box with legs.

Romney walked the mile and a half home from where he acquired the box with that on his head in the 95 degree heat, turning down photos with strangers along the way.

I love this kid!

Conclusion of Freedom

In a matter of a few short days, summer will be over. I am not sure where this particular summer went. Normally I have a binder of well planned learning activities as well as daily excursions planned. The binder didn't make it off the shelf this year until this week. I dusted off the cover and we hunted for ideas of how to spend our last few days before the routines of the school year kick in.
First, I found some gift certificates I had purchased to a family fun center in the dusty binder. I had placed them there for safe keeping at the end of last summer, having found a deal on them online. Now it is too late, and they must lie in wait for us until next June. I felt ok about that, since I really wasn't in the mood to visit that fun center anyway. No one wanted to drive up the canyon for a hike. The boys wanted an arcade, I thought a visit to the dentist sounded like more fun. Finally, we hit on an idea we all were excited to do.


Some times the answer is so simple-picnic in a park. I mean, do I really need a binder for that? We picked up some nibbles, a frisbee, a few bucks for the ancient rides and had ourselves a merry afternoon, free and easy.

The More Things Change

I got to live the old adage tonight, you know the one about things changing, things being the same. I can't even begin to list the things that have changed in my life in the past 13 years. I mean, please, the hair alone. . .

But one thing remains the same. . . my love of Skankin'. Something that has changed: Wikipedia being available to help the uneducated figure out I am not talking about a promiscuous person but rather:

Skanking is a form of dancing practiced in the ska, ska punk, hardcore punk, reggae, grime, dub, dubstep and other music scenes.

The sad truth is that some of the wonderful (and I do mean wonderful, for ALL of the changes that have happened in my life have been positive for me) changes that have come into my world, have also hindered me from expressing that love at least 2 times a week like I used to when I was, shall we say, less fettered by others' needs.

In the past 13 years I have been to only a handful of concerts and dancing only once, but though the frequency has changed the passion has stayed the same. Cut to tonight: English Beat Concert. $17 concert tickets (1994 prices), a room full of sweaty, skankin' fools, a host of Vespas parked outside, a strange dude clearing the way up to the front of the crowd (stage side!), being one of the few sober in the crowd, and last but not least-- my love of sequins (see scarf). All things that stayed the same. So my life may have changed (forever and for the better), but I will always have a piece of that single girl who can dance her "@$$ off for 3 + hours without missing a beat. And that is really nice to know.


Addendum: Though it looks like I want to punch her lights out in the photo, I have the coolest sister(s) ever. Another thing that hasn't changed: Lisa looking cute with me looking goofy in a photo.

Pretty Great Kid

Wish list: caring, sweet, helpful, loving, adorable, funny, honest, cheerful, kind, clean, responsible, smart, hard-working, and determined. Before I had children, that is what my wish list to the Universe would have read. Apparently the Universe is a mind reader, because without having received that list in writing, I received two who fit the bill (Ok, maybe not the "clean" so much with Romney. . . yet). This post is an homage to my eldest who is growing up quickly and facing new challenges with grace and courage.

Puberty. The mere mention of the word makes my face get all squinty and tight as I remember back to my own awkward years. And then I have a day when it becomes clear that my soon to be 12 (!!!) year old is entering that faze of life, and it isn't just my face that tenses up. Mood swings that come from nowhere, growing pains that cause physical pain enough to cry out in the middle of the night, and social challenges that can set the tone for the rest of the relationships that follow, all hallmarks of the dreaded "P" word.


They say every generation will face it's own set of challenges that didn't exist for their parents. True, that! William had his first encounter with "cyber-bullying" this week. That term didn't even exist in the biggest computer nerds' wildest dreams when I was 12. William has been begging us to let him have "texting" capabilities on his phone. He had a list of reasons for why it would be useful, as well as the "all my other friends" excuse to boot. Bill and I have been holding off, but his reasons were solid, and we figured we could use it to keep in touch with him when we needed to as well, and relented, adding the most basic "text" package to his phone plan. William excitedly texted all his friends with the good news that he was able to text from his phone now. The news was met with a cyber version of "yippee" and within 24 hours he had received his first inappropriate text from a good friend. This text had a picture of a person with a crazy face with the words "This is what (so and so kid from school) sees when he looks in the mirror. Pass this text on to 10 other people." William was so excited he had been included in the chain of texts. His friends had not forgotten him over the summer. Then he started thinking about sending the text on. That is when it hit him, this wasn't a nice thing to do to the boy from school. William said this boy is not very nice, actually in 12 year old speak it came out "He's like a total jerk." But then we started talking about how William would feel if the text had his name on it. My very compassionate little man was upset that his friends would be passing this around to hurt the other boy. Instead of passing the text on to be cool and fit in, he texted back his friends and let him know that was not very nice and that they could get in trouble for passing this around. His friend texted back "It is just a joke". William then called his friend and let him know it wasn't very funny and was hurtful and William didn't want to get texts like that. His friend agreed and said he had only passed it on because one of his other friends sent it to him and he didn't want to break the chain.

Chain mail... my, it has come a long way since my teenage years.

William felt sick about the whole experience a few hours later, when it sunk in that he had lectured his friend and was worried that his friend wouldn't like him any more. He was worried his friend would get in trouble and be really angry with him. After thinking about it even more, he hopes his friend will just know that he is being a good friend-- a trusty worthy friend, one he knows would never want him to do something that would get him into trouble and he can count on William not to let anyone hurt him in any way.

We had a such a great discussion about doing the right thing even when it is not popular or cool or easy. That it sometimes is scary to go ahead and say what you think, but when it is the right thing to do, being courageous and speaking up. It helps me realize in the midst of the mood swings that he is growing up beautifully into a person I am proud to have as my "friend".