It's this girl's birthday today.  

I met her in 1989.  She was too cool to be friends with me then - but eventually I won her over, and we became the best of friends.

We would listen to 50's music and dance in the basement, go for walks up mountain sides and look out at ocean vistas, skip school and ride in logging trucks, drive back and forth in car washes, eat yummy food, watch the Rosie O'Donnell Show, take ballet classes, sit next to each other at lunch, sing next to each other in choir, go sledding down steep snow covered mountain roads, hide candied valentine hearts so we could eat them all by ourselves, watch movies and eat popcorn, run and slide to safety from charging cows, dance ourselves silly at school dances, camp on beaches with friends, and canoe away from angry sea lions in the dark.

But most importantly she was there.

We could talk for hours, we would laugh so hard our sides would ache and tears would come streaming out of our eyes

I loved her then, and I love her still.

Happy Birthday Roberta!

Well, I had a super rough day at work today.  So, in an effort to stay positive, I'm going to list what I like about my job:

• I have an office with a window and a bathroom.
• I work with some pretty amazing people.
• My commute is only 20 minutes.
• The work I do helps keep people safe.
• I have two computer screens.
• My boss will let me work from home if the plumber is coming to my house.
• I get paid.
• I cover two hospitals, but they're right across the street from each other so that makes it easy.
• The department has made some positive changes in the past year.
• The Friday HAI meeting.
• Did I mention the people?  The people are great.
• The photocopier.
• I have some flexibility and autonomy.

I'm resurrecting my blog.  I think it's about time.  And, this time I'm going to be writing with a purpose.

I want to start a gratitude journal.  I'm not sure that I'll be able to put my sarcastic, pessimistic self completely to rest, but at least I'll be making an attempt to become a little more positive and emotionally resilient.

Wish me luck!

I went for a bike ride tonight.  Along the Provo River trail.  It soothed my soul.  I have lots of memories along that trail.  Late night runs with my roommates, and the boys next door.  Sitting on the grass and talking about anything and everything.  Riding bikes with good friends.  Falling in love, on a walk that kept us out till morning.  So many people, so many memories - all of them good.

I bought a house on the trail a few months ago.  And it has been a really great place to live - perhaps because it's tied to so much goodness.  Perhaps memories help us heal and pass through the parts of life that seem too hard to bear.

I am thankful for all the good people I have known in my life, who have given me beautiful memories.

A friend invited me over to watch a movie with some of his friends. He was the only one that I knew.  I was excited to get out, and meet some new people in an effort to get my life up and rolling post-divorce.  After the movie we sat around talking.  Eventually the conversation fell on the topic of trans-inclusive bathroom policies.  Did I mention it was three o’clock in the morning?  Maybe not the best time of day to alight on such a controversial subject.  However, it was likely broached because all the other individuals in the room were on the same page.  But, to me their view seemed a little too narrow; I took it upon myself to point out the errors in their thinking.  I pointed out that perhaps they were taking things to the extreme, that maybe allowing a trans-gender individual to use the bathroom that they feel comfortable in, doesn’t necessarily mean that their wives and daughters are going to be raped. 

My friend, of all people, just kept getting more and more agitated – trying to make me see things his way.  A girl in the room, kept rolling her eyes, and looking at me like I was stupid. And, another guy decided to mediate – but really, in the end, just wanted me to see things the way the rest of them did.

I think the thing that bothered me most was that girl.  Why was she looking at me like that?  Isn’t it okay to have a different opinion?  Isn’t it okay to encourage people to look at both sides of a story?  But, she just kept looking at me like I was a moron.  Maybe it was just because I was the stranger in the room, and she couldn’t believe that I was so obtuse – but part of me felt like she was disappointed with my lack of femininity.  She herself had been an active participant in the conversation while it had been all jokes and laughs. She was funny, and full of banter, but it all had an underlying damsel in distress sort of quality.  She had played the roll of naïve female who couldn’t possibly understand the definition of a Western film, getting the men all worked up by asking if “Rango” could be considered a Western.  However, as the conversation turned to more serious subjects – she grew more quiet – retiring, in a way, to the drawing room and leaving the men to their cigars and politics.  But I did the opposite, and became more passionate and conversant, seemingly make a nuisance of myself left right and center.

I felt sorry for myself as I drove home. Why couldn’t I be accepted for trying to point out how another person might feel, or for encouraging a conversation to visit more sides than just one? Why was I to blame for my friend getting all worked up?  I wasn’t agitated or annoyed.  Yet, I was the person getting the judgmental looks and mediation efforts.  I realize that I was the odd man out – but still….  Why does like attract like?  Some say that opposites attract, but in my experience people tend to shun those who are different from themselves.  I’m not in the mood to be shunned.  I’ve spent the past three years being a complete disappointment to a man who claimed to love me. Right now, I really just want someone to appreciate me for who I am. Appreciate that I see things differently and that I’m willing to put myself in someone else’s shoes.  But, I’m lodged in this culture of uniformity - where different is bad, and expressing acceptance of differences is downright immoral – and I hate it.

The crazy thing was, they had spent a significant amount of time discussing a friend who makes shamefully racist comments in an effort to get a rise out of people.  They laughed about how people just don’t understand him – how he doesn’t really hate Jews and Blacks, and that his comments are really just funny once you get to know him. 

So that guy’s okay?!  That guy you can accept?  But, the person who tries to bring a little rationality and acceptance into your lives is obtuse, obnoxious, and too opinionated?  It just doesn’t make any damn sense.

I give up.

I've started running again.  After a rough divorce, and way too many hours watching Netflix - I've decided to take my life back, and stop feeling sorry for myself.  It's a good plan.  I think.

My cell phone keeps track of the distance I've run. Plus, it plays me some motivational tunes - without which, this process would be more difficult than I would like to admit :)  So, it's completely indispensable to me. But, the problem is, it's so stinking big and I'm scared of dropping it.

In a moment of epiphany - I decided that there must be some sort of belt, that I can have around my waist, to tuck my cell phone securely inside (I'm not a big fan of the armbands).  So, yesterday I went to a running store, and bought myself a Mirage Belt.  Super slick... And I was super excited, until I realized it's nothing more than a glorified Fanny Pack!

Well, after two and a half years of crying, praying, hoping, and trying to make things better.  Jason and I are getting a divorce. A divorce. A real live divorce. I hate divorce. I dated, and dated, trying to find that someone I could spend all of time with... and, I thought that's what I had found.  I can't say I've never been more sad in my life, because the truth is, it's not ending well, and I have mixed feelings about the whole thing.  I might be able to say that I've never been more confused in my life. The person I see today, is not the person I saw two years ago, nor is it the person I thought I married a year and a half ago. And, I'm sad. 

The Provo Tabernacle

I drove past the Provo Tabernacle the other day - it's on its way to becoming the Provo Temple - but it actually looks horrible... just a dark empty shell on a vacant lot surrounded by construction.

It gave me hope... because I know what the plan is, I know what it's going to be. Sometimes, when I look at myself, I see the same thing - a Bonnie under construction - one that's not looking so great at the moment.  But the truth is, there's a plan for me too.  I am also in the process of becoming something.

The fire was a tragedy - a beautiful building gone.  

But no - it's going to be restored!  And even better, it's going to become a beautiful Temple.

I'm thankful for the ways that Heavenly Father chooses to teach us about the atonement.

Long, long ago in a far away land...

My Family owned this estate in Shropshire England.  

A Tragedy

On the first day of Kindergarten, a piece of paper was placed in front of me, and I was asked to draw a picture of myself. 

"Sure thing," I thought.  I took my pencil and proceeded to draw a large head with two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and long hair.

Done.  Me.

My teacher came along and wrapped her arm around the back of my chair, "Don't you want to add some color like the other kids."

I think I was expecting her to complement my drawing, because I remember feeling a little crestfallen. I liked my drawing the way it was, but I didn't want to disappoint my new teacher so I reached for a red crayon and quickly made some adjustments.

This was the end result:

Through out the school year I learned that I had blonde hair, blue, eyes, that I was a girl, and that I probably liked pink.  At the end of the year we were given the exact same piece of paper and asked, again, to draw a picture of ourselves.  

This time I came up with the following:

I guess you could argue that I had become a better artist, or that I had become more self aware, but I think that what we are actually seeing is the result of a bizarre societal pressure to focus on what I looked like more than who I was. And it leaves me feeling slightly disappointed.  It makes me miss the girl who first entered that classroom, unaware of eye or hair color, confident, content to do her own thing, happy with who she was inside, and unaware of the things she wasn't or the way that other's perceived her.  I wish I'd stayed that girl. 

Many, many moons ago, I was idly browsing through a bookstore, when I came across this book.

Another time, in the same bookstore, I received a phone call. 

I was sitting next to Kate, we were across the table from Laura and Nick, and we were all browsing through wedding magazines looking for ideas for Kate's upcoming wedding, when my phone rang.  I dug into my bag, saw the number, and froze.  

My heart was beating fast - too fast, my palms were sweaty,

I was light-headed, 

I was giddy,  

I was unsure if I should answer.

But I did.

And the sound of his voice made my little heart do flips inside my chest.
I wandered aimlessly through the books, ridiculously happy, flirtatiously chatting.
He was calling to ask me out,
on a date,
to go hiking.
I was elated.

He was handsome, funny, charming, ridiculously intelligent, and he would soon be my boyfriend.

Okay, now, back to the giraffe book.

At the back of the book there was a stencil.  It looked a little like this:

And on it were the following directions: 

"First, cut along the dotted lines until the entire shape is visible. Then, hold the card up to any animal. If the animal fits inside the cut-out space, then yes, you're looking at a giraffe."

Random, I know.

But it made me realize I had a similar stencil in my head that I would hold up to men, and if they didn't fit inside, then that would be that.

I didn't know it, but the guy on the phone would end up breaking my heart.
He would also end up becoming my stencil.  

A stencil that is still in the works. Changing shape as I learn a little more about myself, and a little more about the person I'm looking for.

This is my Mom's eulogy, written and shared by her best friend Darlene Norris:

A beautiful day to pay tribute to a beautiful lady.

We each feel that something has been taken from our hearts with the death of Peggy Corbett. Peggy is a nickname for Margaret – The meaning of Margaret is “a pearl”. The definition of a pearl is “a very fine one of its kind”. She is a pearl among women.

Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the 12 Apostles said in a talk not too long ago “I believe that not all angels are from the other side of the veil. Some of them we walk with and talk with—here, now, every day. Some of them reside in our own neighborhoods. ‘Heaven never seems closer than when we see the love of God manifested in the kindness and devotion of people so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to mind”. Peggy was a special angel in the form of my best friend. Jim knows that he was married to an angel. Some of you have the privilege of calling this special angel mom, grandma and nannan.

We are all children of God. No matter our religion or what we believe. That makes Peggy a sister to each and every one of us. When you add mother, grandmother, wife, friend it makes that sister even more special.

About 1987 Peggy and Jim with their two youngest children, Bonnie and Louise moved to Powell River and the first day we met we were friends, and it wasn’t long before we were best friends. We discovered together how much we had in common and how much our husbands had in common. Our youngest daughters became best friends.

Just as our youngest daughters spent many hours together; our husbands are in the ham radio club together. They managed to talk us into getting our ham radio licenses and so Peggy and I went to the class together. She passed with honors – one of her talents being an intelligent mind.

Peggy served in her church callings so very faithfully. She loved being a member of Relief Society and knew how to be a part of that great women’s organization no matter where she was serving. We were young women leaders together in 1994 when we took 8 young women to UBC for a Young Women Conference. It was an adventure with lots of laughs together. She was so fun and so considerate of others.

Over the years we enjoyed travelling to the Seattle Temple with our husbands. Peggy loved the temple and what it stands for. My Journal has many entries of times we spent with Peggy and Jim over the years. We always loved to have dinner in their home – she made the best roast beef dinner; and then for dessert her famous trifle that was so good, and as you all know the best of company and always a spirit of love in their home.

We spent some Christmas’ together and New Years eve and New Years day. One year it was all 3 of those days. Peggy loved Christmas. Seventeen years ago this last December she organized the first Crèche Exhibit here at the church that has become an annual event that she organized every year except for one when she was too sick. She had such a talent for bringing everything together just right. She would say that it was all the help she had but we knew that she was the one who knew exactly how it needed to be put together successfully.

I will never forget her love and kindness. On 3 different occasions she went with me to my medical appointments in Vancouver and Comox because she wanted to give me support out of her pure love and caring.

Peggy and I would often play a game together about who was the best; she always let me win but I knew that she was the winner. We shared in each other’s joys as our grandchildren were born. We were one of the first to hear from each other about a new baby and about special events in the lives of our children – in joy and in sorrow.

We know that Jesus Christ was the only person who has lived on the earth who has set the perfect example for us to follow. Peggy followed that example as perfectly as anyone I know. Peggy has and always will be a great example to others and me for her integrity. I admired so much her talent for finding something good in every person. She touched the hearts of everyone she met.

Charity never faileth. We know that charity is the pure love of Christ. Peggy exemplified charity more than any person I know. It showed in her love for her family, in her love and compassion to each one of us here today. I think of her love for her sister Hazel and husband Peter who are not able to be here – they talked often on the phone across the ocean.

When Peggy gave a gift it was from the heart. She was always thinking of others – so thoughtful and kind.

Peggy had a strong testimony of the restored gospel; her faith in Jesus Christ was, and is, an example to each of us.

She was beautiful on the inside and out. She was my beauty consultant as she was to some of you so she could make us feel beautiful on the outside and she had a special talent for making people feel good on the inside too – a double duty beauty consultant.

With a little help from Jim, Peggy raised 5 beautiful, wonderful children to be as loving as she is. 14, almost 15 lovely grandchildren a son-in-law and daughters-in-law have been added; and she loved each so dearly; It gives me comfort to think of her in the spirit world re-uniting with Jordan and with her parents that she always spoke so fondly of. She had so much love for each one of her family.

Think of how happy you were to visit or be visited by Peggy; now imagine how excited and happy those on the other side of the veil are to be with her.

She is in the spirit world today. Think of the body and spirit as a hand and glove. The body is the glove and without the hand the glove cannot move. We are promised that our bodies and spirits will one day be reunited. Alma tells us in chapter 40:23 “The soul shall be restored to the body, and the body to the soul; yea, and every limb and joint shall be restored to its body; yea, even a hair of the head shall not be lost; but all things shall be restored to their proper and perfect frame” Alma 40:11-12 “Now, concerning the state of the soul between death and the resurrection-Behold, it has been made known unto me by an angel, that the spirits of all men, as soon as they are departed from this mortal body (take the glove from the hand) yea, the spirits of all men (women included), whether they be good or evil, are taken home to that God who gave them life. And then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those who are righteous are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their trouble and from all care, and sorrow. I truly believe that Peggy is in that paradise. Don’t worry she will be busy and happy teaching in the spirit world just as she enjoyed doing so here.

In the 24th Psalm, verses 3 and 4 it says, “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? Or who shall stand in his holy place? He that has clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul until vanity, nor sworn deceitfully”. Peggy exemplified a person with clean hands and a pure heart.

There is so much to remind us of her.

It was such an honor and privilege to be Peggy’s best friend. I want to be just like her when I grow up.

Today we say goodbye to a special daughter of God, an angel, and a pearl. We will miss that sweet smile and glowing warmth; but oh the fond memories to carry us through.

Until we meet again.

First dates: fun, weird, and sometimes downright awkward. Here’s my story. His name is Ryan, and we were going to this quirky little spoof-comedy theater. He picked me up, and we went out to eat first – all in all it was rolling along pretty typically. Until Intermission. Apparently this is the time when one of the actors comes out on the stage and solicits audience participation. I hate this sort of thing.

He starts out with, “I’d like to welcome everyone out tonight.” He then points out a group who is apparently having some sort of work party. They start hooting and hollering to indicate their presence. Then he introduces a couple in the far right corner – it’s their 30^th wedding anniversary. She’s quiet. He’s not. He introduces a few more people, and makes a few more comments that induce chuckles from the audience, and then, he says, “Okay, do we have anyone here who is on a first date?”

I’m smiling and laughing, and then I realize what he said. My heart starts to pound. We’re sitting on the first row. Is there anyway out of this…? Apparently not, Ryan’s friend starts to point in our direction. I try not to sink into my chair, or let that tell-tale red slip into my cheeks. I sip my water and try to act cool. “Is that true? Is it your first date?” I nod. There’s no point in lying. “Where’d you guys meet?” Ryan explains, which I’m grateful for, because I’m pretty sure that if I try to talk it will come out in an inaudible squeak. “All right, I’ll come back to you guys later.” I exhale in relief. Wait. What did he mean by “later”?

He goes on to explain that the organist is going to play “Let me be your sweetheart”, and at the end of the song – the anniversary couple is going to stand up, and kiss. “And then,” he says - pausing for effect, and lowering his gaze to the front row – our couples who are here on their first dates are going to stand up and do the same.”

Do the same? What - kiss? Is he serious? The song starts to play, and I’m still trying to process everything. Are we really going to do this? My thoughts are skittering around inside my head, and I can’t seem to pin them down. Do I let him kiss me on the cheek? Do we do the whole lip to lip thing?

I’m acting like an idiot - or maybe like a 13 year-old girl. But I’m not 13 – I’m an adult – so what’s the big deal?

The song is over before I’ve managed to answer any of my own questions. The couple in the back is kissing. Everyone coos.

And then suddenly, almost without movement, Ryan is standing up, with his hand reached toward me. A spotlight is illuminating his ridiculous grin.

Why is he standing up? Does he actually think I’m going to join him? This is the problem with first dates – you don’t know each other. Ryan doesn’t know that this is my worst nightmare, and that he happily led me straight to it. I doubt there will be another date.

I default to embarrassed loser. I completely forget that I was trying to be cool. I slip lower and lower into my chair and the redness creeps higher and higher across my face. My arms are folded tightly across my chest, and I’m shaking my head, first at Ryan, and then at the guy on the stage. I believe that he is a horrible human being, because he seems to think that this whole thing is hilarious. He looks over at Ryan, and with mock sympathy he says, “Sorry Man, it looks like she’s not interested.”

Laughed till my sides hurt. Ah, Elder Prestwich.

You gave me pieces of myself - you came bearing gifts I didn't even know existed - you made me laugh - gave me peace - saw what was really there - and somehow made it beautiful. And I hope you go through life painting all the people with those brush strokes, because that will change this place, and give it meaning - give it depth - break its hardness.

Oo-de-lally

The Porsche 356 B

Against my better judgement, I would really, really, really like to own this car.

I first laid eyes on one outside the BYU alumni house in 2004.  It was so beautiful, I completely forgot what I was doing, and where I was going - I plopped down on the grass and just stared at it. 

We love the Aquarium!

except for maybe Liam (he doesn't look like he likes it)

Ugh. Blue Monday is right. 

Thankfully, you can get above and see something more like this.

Why 1988 was so great:

It was the year of the Calgary Olympics - Heidi and Howdy came and visited my first grade class, they taught us all about the biathlon, bobsled, and luge.
The Russian figure skaters stayed in my hometown, Okotoks, and I fell in love with Ekaterenia Gordeeva and Sergei Grinkov.

We built a huge bobsled-run out of snow in my best friend Melanie Gilbert's front yard. Her yard was split level, and on a steep hill, so we went super fast. We spent all week building it, and banking the turns just right, so the sled wouldn't fly off.

The Giant Panda Bears (on loan from China) came to the Calgary Zoo, and I got to see them - twice! I still remember the song, "Catch that Panda Magic, join in all the fun, hop on the panda wagon, and see why everyone..."

In school we learned all about elephants and Japan. We had a reading worm that went all the way around the classroom, and for every 5 books you read, you could add a segment to the worm. I was the fastest in my class at doing times tables.

Michael Netti held my hand. His birthday was on the leap year - so that meant he turned 2 when the rest of us were turning 8.

Melanie Gilbert "pantsed" this kid, Wesley - who wouldn't get off our monkey bars - in front of the whole playground. The funny thing about Wesley - he didn't wear any underwear.

Sometimes my Mom would give me some money to buy candy from the Mac's Convenient Store on my way home from school - mmm, delicious. My favorite were sugared licorice ropes.



One time, at lunch, I laughed so hard that chocolate milk came out of my nose. That was hilarious.

Also, I got an eraser stuck up my nose that year, which was way less cool - but my mom let me come home from school and hang out with her all day, and that was pretty fun.

Every Saturday, in the summer, my Dad would take me swimming at the Rec Centre.

Dr Hill had an Antique car auction, and while I spent most of my time collecting pop cans to take to the bottle depot, I also fell in love with those beautiful cars.



I went on a zip-line for the first time. I was kind of scared, but my Dad strapped me into the harness, and told me it would be alright, and boy, was it ever fun!

I got my first bike - second hand - and had my first taste of freedom. I rode that thing all over the place, I'd ride it right out of town and down gravel roads, I'd ride it just to see how far I could go. My mom never knew where I was.

My Mom and Dad told us that we were moving to British Columbia and that we'd be living by the sea - I was fascinated by the idea of the ocean. My dad told me that Japan was on the other side of the water, and since I'd learned all about that in school, I was impressed.

I got to ride in the front seat of the Uhaul with my Dad, and our dog Lady, all the way from Alberta to B.C.. Mom and Louise followed behind in the car.

We lived in a cabin on the beach - and I spent all day swimming, jumping along pieces of driftwood, digging up crabs, and collecting seashells. I could wear my swimsuit everyday, and I was always covered in sand.



B.C. was full of trees. More trees than I'd ever seen in my whole life, and that meant lots of places to climb, explore, and hide. I was never, ever bored.

All in all it was a great year. Perfect maybe. So many new and splendid things.