Leo learns the 13 Articles of Faith

My granddaughter Leo Caroline Romans ( Denton's little girl) just finished learning and reciting all 13 Articles of Faith in primary at church. Our ward primary has a program where they come up and say them every week until they do them all. Leo just finished and she is only 5. We are very proud of her. We even made her a certificate for her room. Way to go Leo!

We hope some of our other grandkids are learning them too.... we think they probably are....just haven't heard yet.

Grandma Romans "Hot" (as in awesome) Hot Cocoa

This is some kind of good hot cocoa. The original recipe came from Greg's mom. But I am Grandma Romans too. I make it all the time and love it. So put on some Christmas carols , have a cup, and prepare for a long winter's nap.

Grandma Suzie’s Hot Cocoa

In pan Mix 6 tsp. cocoa
3/4 cup sugar

Add 1/2 cup hot water

Bring to a boil

Add 2 cans evaporated milk
and 2 cans water

Stir, simmer, serve

Winter Blues?

Who Needs Pockets?

Christmas Lights

This story isn't Greg and I...mainly because he doesn't golf...we would have to change the story to" reading".

[Received from a friend recently]

Hi Sweetheart,

I am sorry about getting into an argument about putting up the Christmas lights.

I guess that sometimes I feel like you are pushing me too hard when you want something.

I realize that I was wrong and I am apologizing for being such a hard-headed guy.

All I want is for you to be happy and be able to enjoy the holiday season.

Nothing brightens the Christmas spirit like Christmas lights!

I took the time to hang the lights for you today and now I will be off to the golf course.

Again, I am very sorry for the way I acted yesterday.

I’ll be home later.

Love you……

I believe in Santa Claus

I loved this story a friend sent me. I thought it was a great way to teach a child...and a grown-up.

"I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her. On the way, my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"


My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted .... "Ridiculous! Don't believe it!

That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain
mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun.

"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.

That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.
I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.


"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down."Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy.

Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Clause."

Christmas Caroling with Grandma and Grandpa

It has become a tradition to take Leo, Fischer and now Rocky caroling to dad's home teaching families. We don't usually call ahead because we want it to be a surprise. Most of the time it works out ok. This year we went in the rain. We found out on the way home that all Fischer wanted to sing was POM POM POM. So when we got back home to his house, he did an enthusiastic rendition for his dad. Leo, Greg and I tried jingle bells at all different speeds......we never did get it together. So we switched to
" We wish you a Merry Christmas". We did ok. No matter what.... we had cute little baby Rocky smiling from ear to hear trying to figure out what in the heck was going on...so we were a hit regardless. We had hot fudge sundae's at McDonalds and even sang to the workers there ( Fischer's idea except he didn't sing...if we had only known Rumpapapum.) And we always go to see some lights, especially the tacky house lights that the kids love. All and all it was a fun night and we love that we have this tradition with the Richmond grandkids. Maybe next year, we will have some others join us.

Invisible Mother

I got this from my dear cousin, who I adore. It got me to thinking about my mom and all the things she did for the world. And I mean the world. She was good to so many people. I don't think you ever appreciate your mother to the extent that you become one yourself. And now after 35 years... I really get it. You do begin to feel like you are the mother to the whole world sometimes. But it is a good thing. I can't think of anything else I would rather be called except for maybe "grammy". Suz

I loved this.

Invisible Mother......

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response,
the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone
and ask to be taken to the store.

Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'

Obviously, not.

No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor,
or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me
at all.

I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of
hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you
open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a
clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer,
'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right
around 5:30, please.'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the
eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude
- but now they had disappeared into the pean ut butter, never to be
seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of
a friend from England ..

Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on
and on about the hotel she stayed in.

I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so
well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.

I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a
beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe ..

I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:

'To My Dear Friend, with admiration for the great ness of what you are
building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would
discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after
which I could pattern my work:

No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of
their names.

These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes
of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a
tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man,
'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that
will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the
workman replied, 'Because God se es'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.

It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you. I see
the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.
No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake
you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are
building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will
become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a
disease that is erasing my life.

It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is
the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As
one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see
finished, to work on something that their name wil l never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could
ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing
to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend
he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom
gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade
pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses
all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or
a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then,
if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're going
to love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if
we're doing it right.

And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only
at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the
world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Job, MOM!

Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does.

We never know what our finished products will turn out to be because
of our perseverance.

Crabs

A man boarded an airplane in New Orleans, with a box of crabs.

A female crew member took the box from him and promised to put it in
the crew's refrigerator, which she did.

The man firmly advised her that he was holding her "personally
responsible" for the crabs staying completely frozen, and proceeded to
rant and rave about what would happen if she let the crabs thaw out.

Shortly before landing in New York, she announced over the intercom
to the entire cabin, "Would the gentleman who gave me the crabs in New
Orleans, please raise your hand. Not one hand went up.

So, she took them home and had a lovely dinner
by herself.

Men never learn.

Suzie's Christmas table

My niece Stephanie always loves my tables. She takes pictures of them. So I decided to post this one for fun. I added some new cocktail glasses from Crate and Barrel this year. They are fun for shrimp cocktail...which I have already served in them.

You know how much I love dishes.....and you know how much I love Christmas....need I say more.

The Doghouse...a good reminder for the men in your life.

This is too funny: http://www.bewareofthedoghouse.com

1st of December Presents....Oh Jingle Bells!

I started a tradition years ago when my kids were little that my kids got to open a present on the 1st of the December. They were so excited when we put up the tree.... they could hardly stand to see the presents without getting to open one. So I started letting them open one to kick off the season...usually something related to the holidays..like something Christmas to wear or use. But it can be anything. So for many years we have continued it. I have some fun memories of things the kids did for me or for each other. I started doing it for the grandkids and some of us still continue the tradition. It is fun and I loved opening my little gifts today. You may want to try it.

So Happy 1st of December to all and to all a good day.

Thanksgiving a la Romans

We had an Italian Thanksgiving at Denton's this year and then a traditional meal at my house on Friday.
Denton cooked up a storm with some very delicious dishes.We all contributed something.....he gave us some of the recipes to make. These are pictures of his table. There were 11 adults and 7 kids. The orange and yellow plate are my roasted vegetables by Denton's rolled stuffed turkey breast. We also had yummy italian olives with a white bean dip, a homemade cranberry relish, homemade pumpkin ravioli, gnocchi, spinach supreme, a grapefruit based fruit slush, homemade bread and rolls, pumpkin cheesecake, an apple streusel thing, and a chocolate torte. It was all very delicious.
Chelsea made copies of all the recipes for all of us which will be so nice to have.

We also had our first annual Run this Thanksgiving...one for the kids and one for the grown-ups.
Chelsea planned the day at the park with a nice lunch and crafts for the kids.

We had a little bit of sickness going on over the weekend but had a nice time nonetheless.