Introducing the Best Kept Secret in Utah

Jessica May Design. See below for more on this fabulous woman...

Some More Jes

Jessica May Design

This past weekend my good friend Jes took pictures of Brent and I on saturday afternoon- and they turned out phenomenally. These are only a couple of the hundreds that turned out beautifully. Since she is the artist of my unique and one of a kind wedding gown, we got all gussied up (and YES I fit into my wedding gown three years later!) and she took the reigns. Jes has arrived! Not only does she hand-craft the most exquisite wedding gowns (and everything in between), but she is an amazing photgrapher. Check out Jes & Jonathan and Jessica May Design on my links to see some other amazing creations and/or to contact her. She can make anything, sew anything, design anything, and has a modern edge to her photography that sets her apart as one of the most unique artists I've known. Her prices are very reasonable for her expertise, and she does family shots, pets, bridals, weddings (and everything in between). She does it all, and I'm proud to call her my friend! If you want to know more, let me know or contact her directly from her sites.

Inspector Gadget

For some reason, when the general populace googles 'private investigators,' my company's contact info shows up for utah county. Now, this leads me to believe a few different things when a trembling and or angry voice asks me,"- "What are your rates?" or "I need a private investigator about a domestic issue" or something along those lines. Part of me wants to play along, get all the sordid details about what they need privately investigated, and then politely decline. And the last part of me just marvels at the unhappiness, suspicion, and complete distrust that numerous (and i mean numerous) people in this one Utah county have with the people in their lives. Interesting, is it not? Ultimately, though- I must get back to my work...bwa ha ha ha

Musings on Mankind

And so, my brain thought and thought some more:

I came across a great quote the other day, one in which Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her "How could God let something like this happen?"(regarding Katrina). Anne Graham replied, "I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?"

And I thought to myself all the monotonous, un-original complaints against a God and the American Government when anything bad happens- and the misplaced blame involved as well. If American doesn't go to war (at all or not when the populace demands it- i.e. WWII just one example) there is an uproar and America calls its government unfeeling, unpatriotic and selfish and demands action. When America does go to war in response to a current issue (i.e. Iraq) we're suddenly intolerant, inpatient intruders, and are needlessly wasting American lives. Mantras of "GET OUT" and "GET IN" juxtapose throughout modern American history. Food for thought, I say, and this is what else I say-

What does this sound like to you? A country, a group of people (or mankind in general?) who, when faced with tragedy, tyrannical consequence, and disaster quote the overused phrase, "How could God let this happen?" or for those who mock the Father, "How could your God let something like this happen if there was a God?" But I find it sublimely ironic, even hypocritical, that we blame an unseen deity for the worst in life- but when accomplishment occurs?

We unhesitatingly take all the credit, all the praise, all the award, all of it. Found a cure for a disease? Credit goes to man. Nobel prize, peace prizes, Medals of Honor, Acknowledgement and Public Media Coverage. Who has ever awarded God with one of these prizes? I would venture to say, none. A small child is saved from a fire? Man took the risk and saved a life. Humanitarian Aid to a floundering country? Oh well, of course we help our fellow man, and the economy soars. The point is, it's ME ME ME and I I I. We could never accredit the joy, peace, and miraculous to an unseen Deity, but we certainly can blame Him for everything else.

Again, what does this sound like? It sounds like a teenager. Is mankind, then, America perhaps, only in it's adolescence? It seems obvious to me that this is indeed true. Taking the credit for anything good (whether deserved or not), blaming everything terrible on someone else, having no patience to see anything through after it had been decided, and not trusting your elders and those who have gone before. When everything is about me, when everything is selfish and it's all about self-survival and self-fulfillment. The stage where, biologically, chemically, and psychologically you are unable to function at an adult level. Your cerebral cortex is not clicking and connecting as it should, the nerves are firing but not quite reaching their potential. You remember the days when you knew your parents knew nothing. And then you certainly remember the day when you realized that they know everything. And that they were almost always right. That they indeed understood life, and saw the greater picture, and that almost everything they did was to benefit not themselves- but you.

America, Mankind needs to see that it's parent, it's Father- because He loves His children, will indeed honor free agency and will listen when told by His angry teenager to "Get out of my room!" I do not doubt that He respects our requests, our space, and our choices- whether He agrees or not. Now that, my friends, is someone we should be more like.

The Fives

The Fives...tag yourself
5 Things I was doing ten years ago
1. Starting my tenuous second year of college as an art major
2. Lifeguarding at the HPER
3. Trying to survive on quarters and bumming car rides
4. Making Japanese dinners with my roommate Lori "Chickie Mama"
5. Crazy nights were just the beginning of that terribly hard and revealing year

5 Things I was doing 5 years ago
1. Had more money than I ever had, working full time with great people I have never forgotten
2. Living life to its utmost, reliving another childhood complete with costumes and pumpkin innards, jumping in water fountains and singing in the middle of the city
3. Breaking up and getting back together with the first love of my life
4. Head lifeguard for Lake Pearl and all my beautiful little campers
5. Trained for triathalons and had a body harder than rock. Sigh...

5 Things I was doing a year ago
1. Living with crutches after I shattered my ankle chasing after one of my dogs
2. Making my first Thanksgiving Dinner all by myself and it ROCKED
3. Coaching my first swim team in Utah and loving it
4. Painting every room in our new home- vibrant grass green? Too bad, baby- it's going up!
5. Taking afternoon walks with my hunny and our dogs around our beautiful, mountain filled, crisp aired parks and trails

5 snacks I really enjoy
1. Guacamole
2. Olive Oil and Rosemary Trisquits
3. Dark Chocolate covered rasins
4. Red Seedless Grapes
5. Almond Joys

5 Things I did yesterday
1. Worked 8 -5
2. Feverishly organized all our overdue bills
3. Picked up my paycheck
4. Ordered take out dinner and fed the dogs
5. Crashed on the couch and was asleep by 9 pm (ok, give me a break...i'm recoverying from being sick!)

5 Jobs I've had
1. Florist
2. Swim instructor
3. Office Administrator
4. Telemarketer
5. Coach

5 things I would do if I had a million dollars
1. Pay off all our debt! Then pay of my family's debt. Then buy my best friends new cars.
2. Fix up our house
3. Buy two small homes (a cabin in the woods with lots of land, and a small bungalow on the ocean somewhere....maybe I'll just buy my own island...!)
4. Buy a sailboat
5 Tithe

5 TV shows that I like
1. The Office
2. Lost
3. Divine Design & reDesign (HGTV)
4. The Cooking Channel in general
5. Planet Earth

5 Things I hate doing
1. Thinking of things I hate
2. Waking up to darkness and driving home in darkness. Missing every hour the sun is out.
3. Talking to creditors
4. Sweeping EVERY DAY the accumulated dog hair on my kitchen floor and carpets
5. Traffic

5 Biggest joys of the moment
1. It's fall. My most favorite season.
2. How happy my two dogs are, every day, every moment, to see me.
3. Knowing (finally) what it is that I am meant to do in this life, and working towards that.
4. The honesty and utter connection between Brent and I.
5. The knowledge that with only the power of my mind, spirit and heart, I can choose which moments bring me joy, no matter what else is going on around me.

In Memoriam

As I sat sobbing on the couch last night, after I had let the wave of grief wash over me, I uncontrollably started singing.

"Sam, sam sam, Sam SAM SAM SAM, sam sam sam sam, sam SAAAAMMMMMMM!!!!"

His song. His own song we sang to him time and time again on the piano, and he would howl along (the only time he ever howled) with his family. He sang with us because he always loved, more than anything, to be included and a part of our lives. He wanted to be smack dab in the middle, curled behind our legs in bed, or digging in our stomachs and snorting happily all the way.

Truly, you never heard such a contented groan of fulfillment as when Sammy flopped down in the middle of a room where all five of us were. Then, and only then, did he truly relax. He loved his family, and we loved him back.

Was he the world's best dog? Absolutely and unequivocably no...
Samson had just as many quirks and issues as the family he lived with. Yes, he was a Schmalz through and through. He was a hoser and a bushy eyebrow, he was exasperating and he was unpredictably tender. He was Parascope and Falcor, Phantom and Toodles. He hated men (unless they knew his sweet spot and massaged their way into his acceptance) and snapped at little children that treated him like a cute puppy doll (who can blame him? It threatened his already questionable manhood!).

He lost his beautiful tan and black coloring but solidifed himself into the hearts of our family. Honestly, I don't think anyone else even liked our Samson (except Anna and Teri Smith, themselves soft-hearted animal lovers), but that didn't seem to bother him one bit. He had his family, and that was all he needed in his world. He was jealous of our time, and let us know (ALL THE TIME) when he thought you should get off the phone and give him all of your attention. He skid across the smooth kitchen floor and ran in place as we laughed, excited (each and every single time) for his 'treats.' He accompanied our family on every trip, and basked in the freedom he had at the Thousand Islands- though he never learned to love the water, and looked like a drowned rat any time he got wet. He hated baths and got lost in the snow (remember in Syracuse it was over his head?), and guarded his territory (all down Phyllis Road) with stout authority. He chased after dogs three times his size, and for fifteen years was the Schmalz Family Mascot.

I know that his eyes grew foggy, and his hearing dim, and his mind started to wander. And I know, dad, that you think maybe he didn't know us anymore when we came home. But I have to say, every time I have come home since he's been getting sicker, after the initial fright at our arrival- he never failed to seek me out, quietly, when I was alone- and he would cautiously sniff his way over my body, like he was sure there was something there he remembered, something that was important to him. And every time, without fail- he would remember me. His eyes would snap up to mine and he would look at me with his head tilted- and I knew it and he knew it and things were right with the world again. Then he'd trot away (grumpy old man that he was) or jump from my reach, but always, always he would come to me at night.

And what I hold dearest, is the sound of his little paws scratching at my door late at night or early in the morning- when he would come to check on me. I'd let him in, and he would jump up and, after sniffing my face and licking my nose, would turn around three times and curl up in the small space behind my knees. Then he would sigh, I remember the sound of that sigh, and fall asleep. Until it was time to check on the next person, and he would leave. There is nothing more comforting to me than to reach down and feel his black tipped floppy ears, and his smooth tongue on my hand. There is nothing more meaningful to me than the nights he sat up with me, licking my tears and staring at me with those big brown eyes. He was my best friend for half my life. And I will miss him every day of the rest of it. My grief hurts so badly only because he was loved so deeply, and I know that he knew that. And how grateful I am that his last moments in this world were with those he loved;

His family.

Sammy, we love you.

Rest in His peace, my friend.

Samson Methuselah Schmalz
June 23, 1992 - October 29, 2007