Kelly is the mother of 5 adorable kids--4 boys and a girl. The girl came in a package with a boy (twins).
Kelly is married to a charming young man who lives and breathes computers. They are also guardians for three nieces and a nephew.
She is active in the community having served as PTA President of a local elementary school,
on the board of the Salt Lake Mothers of Twins, as a district round-table trainer with the Cub Scouts, as a volunteer for Sidelines (a support network for Women on bed rest during pregnancy) and she and her husband are active in the LDS Church.
Salt Lake LDS Temple Centennial with a full 3D model of the building in downtown Salt Lake City, Utah.
This Single Image Stereogram was done at the 100 year anniversary of the building's completion.
"And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer,
who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea,
his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to
drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation,
a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall."
My very own Pope joke...BTW: I do NOT know everybody!!
After several times of hearing all the stories of how my Dear Husband can't take me anywhere without seeing someone I know...a good friend came up with this during a chat the other day. I think he is only half right.
J. B. says: I should make you a sales rep. Considering you know EVERYBODY. Kelly says: lol J. B. says: Well, it's TRUE. I'm gonna start telling my pope joke with you in it. Kelly says: I only know half of everybody and that would be the RIGHT half. J. B. says: So this guy was on a plane and sat next to Kelly. He was amazed as people would walk past her in the plane, and say, "Hi Kelly." He remarked, "Wow, it seems like everyone in this plane knows you!" She looked around the plane, nodded, and said, "Yeah, I know about everybody."
The man asked, "Everybody on the plane?" She shrugged. "No, pretty much everybody." The man laughed. "Surely not! Like you don't know... the POPE!"
Kelly smiled and said, "Oh, yeah. He and I were like THIS!" She held up her hand, with her fingers crossed tightly.
The man says, "Now I know you are pulling my leg." Kelly shook her head. "No, I know everyone. Including the Pope."
"Prove it," says the man.
Kelly said, "You know, I haven't been to the Vatican for some time. I think I owe him a visit. Meet me there in three days, and I'll introduce you two."
The man thought, "Oh, what the heck," and made arrangements. He met Kelly at the Vatican city three days later. The crowd was pushing and shoving, wanting to catch a glimpse of the Pope as he stepped out on his balcony.
"So?" asked the man. "Now are you going to admit you don't know the Pope?"
Kelly said, "I'm going to go talk to him right now. Wait for me."
The guy laughed. "Right!" Then off Kelly went.
A few minutes later, she emerged on the balcony with the Pope. The two of them waved at the thronging masses, and chatted a bit on the balcony. After a few minutes they shook hands, and she left to find her friend.
She found him on the ground, unconscious, with a crowd around him. She hurried to his side. She asked one of the people around him, "Antonio, what happened to my friend, here?"
Antonio shrugged. "I dunno. I just asked him who it was that was up there on the balcony with Kelly."
In Western Christianity, Easter always falls on a Sunday from March 22 to April 25 inclusive. The following day, Easter Monday, is a legal holiday in many countries with predominantly Christian traditions. In Eastern Christianity, Easter falls between April 4 and May 8 between 1900 and 2100 based on the Gregorian date.
Easter and the holidays that are related to it are moveable feasts, in that they do not fall on a fixed date in the Gregorian or Julian calendars (which follow the motion of the sun and the seasons). Instead, they are based on a lunar calendar similar—but not identical—to the Hebrew Calendar. The precise date of Easter has often been a matter for contention.
First Presidency Easter Message 15 April 2006 SALT LAKE CITY —
The First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has released the following Easter message:
"At this wonderful season of hope and renewal we testify of the glorious reality of the atonement and resurrection of the Lord, Jesus Christ. The empty tomb brought the most comforting assurance that can come into man’s heart. This was the affirmative answer to the ageless question raised by Job, "If a man die, shall he live again?" (Job 14:14).
"As stated by the angel on that first resurrection morn, "Why seek ye the living among the dead?" (Luke 24:5). "He is not here: for he is risen, as he said" (Matthew 28:6).
"This is the promise of the risen Lord. This is the relevance of Jesus to a world in which all must die. Of all the victories in human history, none is so great, none so universal in its effect, none so everlasting in its consequences as the victory of the crucified Lord, who came forth in the resurrection that first Easter morning." http://www.lds.org/newsroom/showrelease/0,15503,4028-1-23231,00.html
I used to joke that I had married my husband for his 'tech support'. He was always there whenever my computer was in need of some attention. His mother would call whenever hers needed the same. It seemed everyone had his number. Sometimes I still joke about it, but my need for such support is getting to be rare.
Case in point: Ever since he upgraded my computer to Windows XP a few years ago I have not been able to play my favorite game, TriTryst, because of compatibility issues. I would attempt to install it on my computer only to face an error message. I finally just gave up the idea of ever playing it again.
That was, until the other day, when I noticed it sitting on the shelf near my computer. I decided to see what I could find out about the game...perhaps I could get an upgrade of the game. I typed the word TriTryst into a search engine. No upgrade available, however, before long I had a printout telling me how to manually install the game on an XP system.
In between taking care of the kids and doing laundry I worked on getting the game installed and working. At first it didn't work. I kept getting another error message. Then I found a free download of the same game...and followed the directions I had located earlier and followed them to the letter.
After copying all the files into the correct folder and then clicking the install.exe icon, typing the correct path into a dos prompt window and then pulling up pulling up properties on the shortcut icon to tell the game to be windows NT compatible I had a working running game :) :)
Many happy hours of game play are ahead of me and I didn't have to wait for my sweet other half to come to my rescue. I think I will keep him around, anyway...even if he is becoming obsolete....at least when it comes to tech support. ;)
A few years ago my husband bought a computer game that came with a plastic scantily-clad female toy. I said, "Ooh, look, it comes with a doll!" To which, he replied, very quickly, "It's NOT a doll. It's an ACTION FIGURE!!"
"Ah," I said, "call it what you want. I still say it's a doll." This coversation spawned an ongoing debate. Here are some talking points of the debate: 1- Is Ken (Barbie and Ken) a doll or an action figure? This is still up for debate.
2- Is Barbie a doll or an action figure? Well, she certainly has a figure and she would certainly be called an action figure if she were wielding a frying pan.
3-If you put GI-Joe in a cradle and wrap a blanket around him is he still an action figure?
4-If they are mere plastic pieces what is their action? Doesn't that require DOING something?
A baby doll is definitely a doll. Raggedy Ann is certainly a doll, unless she is used to whack a sibling over the head.
What do you think? Let me know your thoughts on the subject.
In April 2005 I joined my husband for the weekend while he was on a business trip in Des Moines, Iowa. We took a 4-hour drive down to Nauvoo, Illinois to see the newly rebuilt Nauvoo Temple and other LDS Church History sites. As we drove toward Carthage, Illinois I took another look at the map. I noticed that the same road we were on (in the other direction) would take us near the little town of Novinger, Missouri.
I had heard of Novinger all the time while growing up. My interest was perked. I quickly pulled out my cell phone and called my Grandma Pat Davidson. I learned that Novinger was indeed her home town and that she had gone to high school not far from there in Kirksville.
We decided to take the scenic way back to Des Moines. When we got to Lancaster, Missouri (about a 2 hour drive from Carthage) we saw a sign that said, “Kirksville, 23 miles.” It would be another 6 miles beyond that to Novinger. We figured the round trip would add another hour to our trip and it was getting late. Des Moines was another 2 hours away. We just couldn’t fit in the travel time. We snapped a picture of the sign and headed back into Iowa, thinking that I would never get another opportunity to see Novinger.
Novinger, Missouri holds a special place in my family history beyond just being my grandma’s home town. Just before my grandmother’s senior year of high school she and her mother (my Great-grandma Fleta May Schott) went to a movie about the Mennonites. This sparked an interest in other non-“main stream”-Christian religions.
They spent that summer at the library and looked up everything they could on the Mennonites, the Seventh-Day Adventists, the Quakers and the Mormons.
It was about this time that a set of Seventh-Day Adventists missionaries knocked on their door. They invited them in and found the information to be interesting and the discussion with them was enjoyable. Then about a week later another set of missionaries knocked on their door.
They introduced themselves as Mormon (LDS) missionaries and, like the previous set, they were invited to share their message. In those days the Mormon missionaries left tracts with messages rather than giving a formal lesson. My great-grandma had noticed that on the bottom of these tracts were references to the B of M and the D&C and the P of GP. On about the 3rd visit she told the missionaries, “How am I supposed to learn all about your religion when I don’t even have these books?” The two missionaries nearly fainted. They had never had anyone ask for everything at once. These missionaries promptly gave them copies of the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants and the Pearl of Great Price to go along with their own Bible.
Let me pause to give a little background on the two missionaries who came to their door. Just prior to knocking on my great-grandparents’ door they had complained to their mission president that they had worked and worked, knocking on door after door, in that area, but no one would listen. They suggested that the area be shut down so they could focus their efforts elsewhere.The mission president told them to try for three more months. If they couldn’t find anyone interested in their message by the end of that time he would take the missionaries out of that area. But if these missionaries had knocked on my great-grandparents door even one month earlier they might not have been received as they were.
As my grandma and my great-grandma listened to the message from these missionaries each week my Great-Grandpa Schott would sit in the other room and listen, but not participate. As they listened they found something very different about this religion. But my great-grandpa was still not interested. His argument against the church was that it would be just too hard to live by. He just couldn’t do it.
My grandma and her mom set a date to be baptized into the Mormon Church. As they were getting ready to leave, on the date of their baptism, my great-grandpa told them to wait for him. He said he might as well join them in being baptized. He would just have to do his best to live up to its teachings.On March 24, 1940 my Grandma Davidson and both of her parents (Fleta and Glenn Schott) were baptized members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
My first memory of my great-grandparents is seeing them as they got off a plane in Salt Lake City. They had just served as LDS missionaries in Australia. They brought back boomerangs and toy koalas.So, how did they end up in Salt Lake? After my Grandma graduated from high school she came to Salt Lake to get her training as a nurse.
In the mean time my Grandpa Davidson (who grew up in Salt Lake) got his call to serve as an LDS missionary in the Central States Mission. This included Novinger, Missouri.
Ever since they had joined the Church, the Schott’s had taken an interest in the missionaries. They often took the missionaries on the two hour trip to Nauvoo. On one particular Thanksgiving they had invited the missionaries, serving in their area, to have the dinner with them. My Grandpa Davidson was, of course, one of these missionaries. My grandma (Pat Schott, at the time) was home to see her parents for the holiday.And that is where my Davidson grandparents met. After he returned from his missionary service he looked her up and in January 1945 they were married.
Here is a picture of my Davidson Grandparents from the Ensign in November 2004 page 103.
Sometime in the interim my great-grandparents moved to Salt Lake where he would later serve as a Bishop in the old McKay Ward near Liberty Park in Salt Lake City.
It has now been about 20 years since my great-grandparents passed away. But not before I got to know them really well. In their later years they lived about a mile from my house. They had moved to Kearns (on the west side of the Salt Lake Valley) because of failing health so their daughter could take care of them. As a young college student I would often stop by to see them on my way home from my classes. They always had those chocolate orange sticks on a lamp table in their living room. My great-grandma tried to teach me how to tat, but I was never very good at learning how to make that shuttle fly the way she could.
Less than a year after the passing of my Great-grandpa Schott in September 1986 my Grandma and Grandpa Davidson were headed to serve as missionaries in England and Wales and I was on my way to serve a similar mission in Virginia.
Then in early October 2005, six months after my attempt to see Kirksville and Novinger, I set foot in that small rural northern Missouri community I had heard about all my life. I stood with my Mom and brother Henry in the Novinger Cemetery (where many of my ancestors are buried). We were on a return trip across the country after picking up my brother. He had just completed his own missionary service in West Virginia.
There are now two LDS Wards (congregations) in Kirksville, Missouri.
While growing up, Novinger Missouri was a vague concept in the back of my head. I felt no real attachment to the place. But God has a way of showing you what He really wants you to see and turning hearts to our fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers.
I ran this blog entry a year ago. I decided to run it again as spring time is here and once again I have to face my greatest fear.
I am in a local Super Store with my teenage son buying a pair of gym shorts and shoes for his Fitness class at school. At the end of a very long isle is a light brown patio umbrella. It is January and I know, for a fact, that stores do not start the summer patio displays until March or April. But there it is. Most people would not even notice it nor give it a second thought. My son, in fact, has no idea it is there—even when I point it out to him.
But for me, the patio umbrella is somewhat of an enigma. I can tell you a lot about them. I can tell you what colors they come in; the different styles that are available and where you can buy them. I can tell you which stores carry them and which do not. But I do not have the foggiest idea what is written on the price tag. I can’t get close enough to find out.
The hitch to all this is that I am unbelievably terrified of them. I am so terrified; in fact, that I would rather die than face the underside of one of them.
I have never known a time when these objects did not scare the daylights out of me. When I was a kid my parents had a great big one. Giving a description of it is enough to send me spinning. It was green with white fringe around the edges. It can manage to tell you what it looked like from a distance, but if I try to tell what it looked like from the underside I ...I just can't go there, though I know what it looked like.
My parents tried to calm my fears though they figured it was a passing childhood fear and that I would eventually grow out of this fear. Then one day, after my dad did some research, he learned I had a bona fide phobia. As an adult I would go to hypnosis and other therapy with no improvement.
Phobias, I learned, did not involve actually being afraid of the object or situation. It was the fear of being afraid that perpetuated the phobia. I had felt something akin to fear when faced with one of these objects. Subconsciously, I never want to feel that again. I refuse to go near them. It is like there is an invisible barrier between them and me. I can feel them when I am not looking. All it takes is to see one of them out of the corner of my eye and I jump.
I can tell myself that they are harmless sources of shade. But, does my subconscience listen? NO!
Yes, we finally have spring. In a previous post I had complained that we had a definite lack of spring in our neck of the woods.
It is a good thing, too, because around here we have year-round school and my kids are currently off track. This means that if the weather is bad they go crazy hanging around the house all day. They have been so anxious for nice weather that one day last week they watched the temperature reading on my computer like a hawk. Every 10 minutes they would come in to check. I had made the mistake of telling them that if it got to 70 degrees they could go barefoot and have a popcycle.
That day it reached 71 degrees...and they all enjoyed the grass under their toes and a popcycle in hand.