It's CHRISTmas

Today is the last Sunday before Christmas. During our church meetings we sang lots of Christmas songs, watched a video of the nativity, partook of the sacrament, listened to talks testifying of Christ, and felt His spirit. It was awesome.

I am reminded of the scripture from the Book of Mormon: " And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins...And now behold, I say unto you...believe in Christ, and deny him not; and Christ is the Holy One of Israel; wherefore ye must bow down before him, and worship him with all your might, mind, and strength, and your whole soul..." (2 Nephi 25:26,29)

I hope to carry the peace and hope and comfort and joy I feel today with me through this season and throughout the coming year. Because I do believe in Christ and I am grateful for a knowledge of His gospel and His plan for me.

May you remember Him and feel His love for you at Christmas time and always.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Diana

Today is Diana's birthday and so I've been thinking of her all day long.

Diana is my middle child, number four of seven kids and number three of the five girls.

She was born on a snowy winter evening in the Utah Valley Regional Medical Center in Provo, UT. I had been to choir practice and came home well into labor. We left the other three children with a sitter and drove through the snow in our old car with bald tires. But we, and she, arrived safely.

Even as a baby, Diana was beautiful. Her skin was flawless and she had long slender fingers and toes. Her little feet were crooked and she had to have them in casts that were changed regularly to move the bones back into their proper alignment. She still carries a small scar from a burn received in removing one of the casts. (But they finished the process free of charge because of that!) She also had clogged tear ducts that a doctor cleared with a very long needle while I held her little head. THAT WAS SCARY.

Diana has always been adventurous. Once, when she was about five years old, Diana got left at home alone....long story.... Anyway, she knocked on the neighbor's door to get help, but no one answered. She proceeded to walk around a mile to the only other place she was sure she could get help--Anna Raun's house. She told Anna that she thought she was supposed to be at Grandma's and so Anna made a call and got her where she belonged. I was completely unaware of what had happened until we were back to pick the kids up several hours later. Well, ever since she's been an independent, resourceful, adaptable person.

Diana likes to try new things. She is creative. She sings well and is a good organizer. Diana is comfortable in almost any situation. She makes friends easily and is loyal afterward. Diana loves cats and has two, Zena and Xavier. Somehow, she became a city girl even after being raised in small towns. Diana is all the kids' favorite aunt.

In March Diana married Travis Thornton in the Salt Lake LDS Temple. He makes her happy. They live and work in the Seattle area.

I am thankful for Diana and so happy she is my daughter and friend. I am looking forward to having her and Travis here at New Year's with the rest of the family. In the meantime, happy birthday Sweetie. I love you.

Deck the Halls

No boughs of holly here, but plenty of icicle lights and nativities and advent calendars and stockings and Christmas trees and ANGELS.......

Yes. After a complete house cleaning (well, almost complete), I have been decorating for the Christmas season. It's taken me several days, but I have to say that our halls are now totally "decked" and things are looking very festive around here. The house is full of fun things to see and hear and taste and touch and smell.






















I love the smell of pine and peppermint and berries from lighting Christmas candles. It makes me want to bake and create and wrap and give. I get a kick out of the grandkids' delight in the battery-operated and wind-up toys that are scattered about. I really enjoy sitting in the darkened room, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and drinking hot chocolate, just looking at the lighted tree. (That sounds pretty good. I might have to go do that and finish this later.) Remembering the story of each angel that I pull from the boxes brings me special joy.

Today the work is done and I am basking in the beauty of it all. I'm working on gifts and looking ahead to another wonderful Christmas.


So, if you haven't yet, start to deck the halls and you will find yourself full of Christmas spirit like me...............go on, do it. It feels real good.

Thanksgiving Again

It's been just over a year since I began this blog. It has turned into a rewarding outlet for my thoughts and experiences, a new way to share myself with family and friends.

So this Thanksgiving I want to express thanks for modern technology that opens the door to such a variety of communication lines: email and Facebook and blogs and web cams and instant messaging and cell phones with voice and texting. I will always love phone calls and letters as well. I am grateful that we can stay in touch no matter how far apart we are and how seldom we see each other.

Of course nothing replaces actually being together. And so this Thanksgiving I am also thankful for the opportunities I've had this year to be with each of you in your own homes and at important events in your lives. I look forward to any chance we can share time and experiences.

Thanks to all of you for being part of my life.

I have been blessed beyond measure. I am forever grateful to my Father in Heaven for my life and my family and my understanding of his plan. Every day is one of thanksgiving for me.

Life in Logan

I've been spending the last few days with three of my adorable grandkids: Rachel, Elena and Creed. Ben and Heidi took Cadence with them to visit Melody and Brock in Tennessee and I've been here to hold down the fort. We spent the first two days at their home in Logan and then made a run to Cokeville to see Mariah's high school's production of "Thoroughly Modern Millie" and spend some time hanging out with Jason's and Sarah's families. Today we braved the winter storm to drive back through the canyon to Logan.

Rachel and Elena are both in school all day long, so Creed and I got to read books and color and watch shows and other such fun activities. At our house, he built things out of legos. Creed has lots of energy and, most of the time, a very cheery disposition.

The girls are remarkably self-sufficient, making their own lunches and doing their homework and chores unasked. They both like to read and play with friends. While we were in Cokeville, they made a chain for the days until Christmas. On the drive both ways we listened to "Wicked"; Elena knows almost all the lyrics and especially likes "Popular" and "Defying Gravity".

The only downside to the whole deal has been an ongoing bout with some kind of stomach flu, beginning that first night with Creed, then hitting Elena and I, and now Rachel....no fun for anyone! Luckily it is a brief (though wicked) flu and by tomorrow, I hope, we should all be well before Ben and Heidi get home again.

Taking the opportunity to spend time with the grandchildren this year has been a great way to get to know them really well AND give their parents a chance to get away to their activity of choice without worrying about the little ones left behind. This Thanksgiving I am thankful for my children and their children....what a blessing family is in my life.

Good things come to those who wait!

"Regardless of how much patience we have, we would prefer never to use any of it." (James T. O'Brien) That is me to a "T".

For many months now I have been making meals on the plywood counter tops of my partly remodeled kitchen. While I have been really grateful for the extra shelves Seth built and the greater space on the new counters, the process of clean up has resulted in a variety of painful slivers and a concern for the actual "cleanliness" of the rough surface. It is difficult to get spills out of plywood. And so I admit that I've grumbled a bit.

But this week I have new counter tops. What a change! I can't help but stop and just look every time I come into the kitchen. I find myself running my hand over the counter surfaces, admiring the newness and smoothness of them. It even inspired me to paint the kitchen walls. Seth also installed a new light above the island. It is like a whole new place.

As you can see from the photos below, we still have work to do: the cabinets need a veneer and doors; the table needs to be resurfaced, etc. But for those of you who know the before, you can't help but recognize the remarkable changes already made.

Yes, "patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet." (Jean Jacques Rousseau)
My gratitude abounds....and it's been nearly a week since I got a sliver wiping a kitchen counter.

I Love to Read

There is really nothing like reading.

I like to read a variety of things--mysteries, dramas, comedies, plays and biographies, fiction or non-fiction, silly or serious, fact or fantasy, poetry and prose, picture books and even encyclopedias. I read food labels and cereal boxes and instruction manuals and prescription information pamphlets. I read magazines and newspapers and letters, blogs and emails and web pages. I read scriptures and self-help books and classroom tutorials and cookbooks.

I am grateful for the ability to read. I thank those who took the time and put forth the effort to teach me this valuable skill. I can't imagine my life without it.

I am grateful for those who write. I thank those who take the time and put forth the effort to put into words their stories, both real and imagined. I can't imagine my life without them.

While television and movies are wonderful and entertaining, I still find that it is in the act of reading a good book that I find my greatest pleasure and most valuable learning.

Curiosity and Hope

"Greet the world every morning with curiosity and hope." (Fife Robertson)

I love that thought. I think it's great advice.

If we could really do that, our lives would be full of learning and interest and anticipation. We would be positive, cheerful and happy. Of course, others around us would be touched as well. We could change the world one day at a time.

Yes. I love that thought. I think it's great advice.

Speaking Love

I recently read a book "The Five Love Languages" by Gary Chapman. Very thought-provoking book. I was familiar with his ideas from other sources, but found the book worth reading all the way through. Today I decided to summarize the main points of the book that I jotted down as I read it.

Mr Chapman comments that after the initial "in-love experience" couples must "pursue 'real love' with (their) spouse." "That kind of love is emotional in nature but not obsessional. It is a love that unites reason and emotion. It involves an act of will and requires discipline, and it recognizes the need for personal growth." He then suggests that loving someone requires us to "speak their primary love language." He then identifies five different love languages as described below:

Words of Affirmation
compliments, appreciation, encouragement, forgiveness, requests and not demands
to spouse, about spouse
verbal, written

Quality Time
"togetherness with focused attention"
conversation: uninterrupted, intimate, sympathetic listening, self-revelation, eye contact
activities: create memories, participate in each others interests
1-at least one spouse wants to do it
2-the other spouse is willing to do it
3-you do it to show love

Receiving Gifts
"Gifts are visual symbols of love"
symbol of the thought "I am thinking of you" expressed in action of securing and giving gift
"a gift is something you can hold in your hand" or
gift of self--being there, your presence (your body) becomes gift

Acts of Service
helping, doing things for, "crossing things off the list"
like Jesus washing disciples' feet
"Requests give direction to love, but demands stop the flow of love."

Physical Touch
emotional love, "loving touch", hugs, kisses, sex, massage, physical affection
frequent, spontaneous or planned, regular, intimate, familiar
"reach out and touch"

Just like spoken language, we all have a love language--a language that speaks love to us. We must identify our partner's love language and learn how to speak it for them to truly receive and understand the depth of our love for them. Though we may appreciate expressions of love in all five languages, most people have one primary love language. A few are bilingual.

A few parting thoughts from Chapman's book:

"What we do for each other before marriage is no indication of what we will do after marriage."

"Love is a choice and cannot be coerced."

"People tend to criticize their spouse most loudly in the area where they themselves have the deepest emotional need."

"Love is something you do for someone else, not something you do for yourself."

To love you must "invest time, energy and effort."

"True love always liberates."

Good read. Worth the time.

I've got Seth figured out and will continue to speak his love language so he can understand how much I love him. To love him is a choice I made a long time ago and continue to make every day! He's definitely worth my time, energy and effort!

Breaking Bread

What is it about eating together that erases uneasiness and creates bonds of friendship?

Today we invited a couple of long-term guests from California in for Sunday dinner. They have stayed with us five years running for almost the whole month of October each year. Don owns some property north of town and his father, Ron, comes along. They both love the outdoors and love to hunt. Some years they have brought along other family members, but this year it's just the two of them.

Ron is a gardener and fisherman at home. He brought us vegetables from his garden and fish he caught in the ocean and bottled himself. He is not the hiker he once was and spends lots of time glassing the hillside and positioning himself for a good shot close to the truck.

Don is more of a mountaineer, younger and more agile. He works hard for his trophies and has also helped others to bag and pack out their animals. Don is a plumber by trade and after dinner today even helped Seth repair a leak in one of our water heaters. (Now he can write off part of his trip expenses, because it was business!?!)

Anyway, as we sat down to eat, there was some awkwardness between us all--two strangers, Sarah and Jon and their boys, Seth and me and Mariah. A quick blessing was offered and then the food was passed around. All "weirdness" evaporated as food disappeared and cups were emptied and refilled. No one felt inclined to leave the table too quickly(except the little ones), and we carried on a lively conversation while Mariah's blondie brownies baked. Then the table was cleared and dessert served and still we sat comfortably sharing the afternoon.

Guests regularly come and go here, often soon forgotten . But those who share a meal or two will
be remembered and welcomed back as friends. It's something magic about breaking bread together, sharing a meal and a Sunday afternoon.

Be Kind.

A while back I was waiting in a doctor's office and noticed a sign posted at the front desk. It said, "Be kind. You cannot not know what battles are raging around you." I have thought back to that message many times. It is very good advice.

I spent a few days this week with my mother who is recovering from a knee replacement surgery. I thoroughly enjoyed myself in the quiet calm of her home, attending to small things that were beyond her current ability. (Surgery does take quite a toll, doesn't it.) Most of her dizziness and nausea had passed by the time I came and she was settled back in her own home. So, it was mostly a matter of being there "in case". (My sister Jen took the first long shift, dealing with the doctors and hospital and other "hard" stuff.)

Each day a physical therapist came by to teach and help Mom perform exercises that will assist her in stretching and bending and regaining strength in her knee. I was impressed with his manner. He was totally there for Mom, giving her his full attention, listening to her comments and frustrations, yet clear in his directions and persistent in his efforts. He was unfailingly gentle and helpful. He was cheerful and confident in her ability to recover completely. He was kind.

Everyone, like my mother, has battles raging. Some may have injuries or disease. Some may deal with anger or grief. Some may be afraid or lonely. Some are burdened with pain or physical limitations or addictions. Some fight fear or feelings of insecurity or depression. Battles can be short or very, very long. Battles can be big, intense and overwhelming or small, irritating and unsettling. Often the outcome of our battle is unsure, despite our best efforts. Sometimes we can sway the end result with persistence and endurance, patience and prayer. Usually, as we conquer one foe, another moves into play and a new battle begins. This is how we grow and learn and progress.

So I am reminded to be kind. You can never be faulted for that. Recognize that, though you may never know what battle is raging in another's life, kindness can soothe and help and console. A simple kind deed, however small, may sway the course of someone's personal battle, bringing some hope and peace. It costs nothing and the return in so great.

Be kind.

It's Conference Time!

I love general conference.

Twice a year The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints holds five sessions of what we call general conference. The two hour meetings are held on Saturday and Sunday at the beginning of April and October. While the actual conference takes place in the new conference center in Salt Lake City, Utah, members of the church from around the world participate through live satellite, internet, television and radio broadcasts. The meetings are also recorded and made available later on DVD and printed in the Church magazine, "The Ensign". The president of the church and other prophets, apostles and general leadership of the church speak and the Tabernacle Choir sings and each meeting is begun and ended with prayer. It is an opportunity for a world wide membership to see and hear their leaders, feel the Spirit and unite in a common meeting of worship.

Because we live in an area where all five sessions are available on televison (except the Prieshood session that is available in our meetinghouse via satellite), I like to be part of all the sessions on both Saturday and Sunday. I juggle my work schedule on Saturday to allow me to do something quiet and indoors during the sessions. Mariah often knits or crochets. Seth comes home off the mountain or from the job to be part of it. Those special Sunday mornings of conference are calm and relaxed with no early meetings or assignments before or after the sessions. Sometimes the kids come, with their kids, to watch with us. We eat and visit between sessions.

Through conferences I have learned to recognize the faces of our leaders. I hear their voices and get a feeling for their personalities. I am often touched by their humility, and yet cannot doubt the authority with which they speak. The Holy Ghost testifies to me of the importance of their words.

The main theme of this conference seemed to be love: God's love for us, our love for Him, the need to love each other. We were reminded of the need to ask for God's direction and follow the promptings of the Spirit. The importance of daily scripture study and prayer and family unity were emphasized. We were reminded that God's laws must be obeyed and His promises are sure. He is aware of each of us and ready to help as we seek him.

Because of conference, I feel a determination to be a better person, to try harder, to live better, to share what I have and serve those around me more often. I feel bouyed up and encouraged. I feel peace, even in our uncertain world. I feel an urgency to keep moving forward toward a closer relationship with Jesus Christ and an eventual eternity with my family that I love so much. I am filled with light and truth and hope.

I love general conference. It is another evidence that there is a God in Heaven and He loves me.

Essentials to happiness...

"Three grand essentials to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for." (Joseph Addison)

I guess that explains why I'm happy!

I have lots of things to do--fun things, hard things, mundane things, easy things, new things, old things, spiritual things, entertaining things, relaxing things, stressful things, happy things, sad things, uplifting things, depressing things, anticipated things, dreaded things, necessary things, complex things, simple things, things I like to do and things I don't.

Sometimes I do housework: I wipe, polish, sweep, mop, scrub, pick up, put away, rearrange, throw out, cook, bake, wash, vacuum, dust, launder, fold, iron, hang and organize. Sometimes I do shopping: I search ads, make lists, visit stores or internet sites to buy food, clothes, shoes, furniture, motel supplies, computer ink, paper, gifts, and any number of other items. Sometimes I do educational things: I watch informative television shows, read non fiction, study books and websites, search out health information, practice new skills and help with homework. Sometimes I do spiritual things: I read my scriptures and church magazines and books, pray, ponder, listen to uplifting music, attend meetings, serve in church callings and share the gospel. Sometimes I do physical things: I walk, lift weights, run up and down my stairs, dig and shovel and mow and rake and carry and bend and twist and turn. Sometimes I do service: paint, babysit, give back rubs, call someone, volunteer, send a card, answer questions or take in a meal. Sometimes I do things just for fun: I sing, play the piano, read novels, take a nap, play games, swing with the kids and play on the tramp, check Facebook, write emails and my blog.

I don't ever remember a time in my life when I had nothing to do.

I have many things and people to love. I love my husband, my children, my mom, my sisters, my brothers, my Hopkinson relatives, my Boyer relatives, my Thompson relatives, my friends and neighbors. I love music, books, family gatherings, temple time, long hot showers, lotion on dry skin, painted toe nails, phone calls from family and friends, going to bed early, card games and puzzles. I love to eat: chocolate, cashews, fresh bread, apples, peanut butter, cheese and crackers, mashed potatoes and gravy, waffles with berries and cream, and anything prepared by someone else. I love sunny days, rainy days, snowy days, winter, summer, spring and fall. I love being alive in this beautiful world.

I don't remember a time in my life when I had nothing to love.

I have hope......for myself, my family, my community, my country, the world. I have hope that I can become all that I desire to become. I have hope that my family will stay united in love. I have hope that my community will grow and continue to provide a safe refuge. I have hope that our country can remember it's roots and turn back to God for help in troubled times.
I have hope for peace in the world and help for those in need. I have hope that good will prevail and evil will be conquered. I have hope that life goes on beyond the grave in another sphere filled with light and love.

I don't remember a time in my life that I had no hope.

My life is not perfect, but I have those "three grand essentials" and so I have happiness. I am so blessed.

The Weske Boys

It was the Weske boys' turn with Grandma this last week. (Sarah and Jon headed out with Seth for an elk hunt in central Utah. Sarah had the tag!) So their sons moved in with Mariah and I at the motel. Things haven't been this lively here since the last family get together. What a blast!

Nathan recently turned eight years old. He was off to school most days and then to cub scouts and watching football games at the high school field. He invited friends over and spent lots of time on the zip line and trampoline. He is currently quite obsessed with karate and was regularly trying out his moves on his brothers. Nathan was always the first one to bed at night and the first one up in the morning.

Jaxon is four and loves using the computer and creating things with legos. He attends a preschool in town two days a week and loves to be outside. Jaxon will eat about anything, but his favorite thing is peanut butter on a spoon!

Gavin is two. He speaks only a few words, but was constantly asking "Mom? Dad?" Once reassured that they were in the mountains with Grampa, he was content. His activities of choice were blowing bubbles, swinging and playing in the sandpile. Several days he napped, but most it was go, go, go until he crashed after dinner!


I have figured out that, to really enjoy a week with the grandkids, I have to block out all unneccessary plans and not expect to accomplish much beyond getting through the day happily. We read books, went for walks, ate Otter Pops and Marshmallow Mateys, watched movies and played outside. We caught bugs and picked dandelions for the dragon. We filled the bath tub regularly and splashed lots of water everywhere. We played with play dough and drew lots of pictures. Every night was a camp out in the great room with blankets and pillows all over the place. Though there were the occasional moments of disaster or disagreement, the whole week was a wonderful chance for all of us get close. I loved it.



An extra added bonus was the fact that Sarah shot an elk in the middle of the day on her 30th birthday after several days of hard hunting. (You'll have to talk to her or Seth to get the details of the whole trip.) Some cowboys were nearby and offered to help get it to the truck and load it up, saving Sarah and Seth hours of work. They dropped the meat to a locker and were home before bedtime Friday evening.


So my time with the Weske boys came to an end and it's back to "normal" life (if you can ever say that things here are normal). There is nothing quite like being a grandmother, is there? This gift I offered to my children has really been a gift to myself. I look forward to Ben's children's turn....maybe in November.

"Fifty Makes You Think"

"Fifty makes you think. Thirty makes you morose, and forty makes you panic, but fifty makes you think. Half a century, and what is my life? Does it resemble anything I dreamed at sixteen, or expected at twenty or hoped at twenty-five? What am I doing here?...I thought of climbing to the top of a high mountain in Tibet to consult a wise man, but I like vacations where there is indoor plumbing and vegetation....Maybe I'd been missing a great fundamental truth....Well, come to find out, I had been missing something..."

So comments the main character of a great little book I read last week (The Route by Gale Sears). She finds herself searching for "something missing" in her life and, as a result, takes a route delivering lunches to home bound senior citizens each Thursday. The experiences she has along the way help her to find meaning in her life and recognize that, though her life did not turn out like she "dreamed" or "expected" or "hoped", it has been a life worth living.

Now, I didn't mean for this to be a book review. Rather, I wanted to comment on life in my fifties. Don't tell Seth I'm openly telling you I'm in my fifties. He has a thing about age and if I'm 53, well, I guess we know about where he is! Anyway, as I read The Route, I was prompted to ponder on my life and how I feel about where I've been and what I've done and how I've gone about it all. And, just for the record, I have to say I'm perfectly happy in my fifties.

I've never really felt one way or another about my age. Birthdays come and go. Life moves on. Turning 30 or 40 or 50 was not daunting or shattering for me. Age doesn't really have much to do with everyday living of life. We all, from the day we're born to the day we die, have things to learn and things to do and things to avoid and things to conquer and things to share and things to master. We all laugh and cry, succeed and fail, serve and are served. We all feel hope, fear, hunger, cold, anger, relief, curiosity, regret, peace, sorrow, joy, etc. Each stage of our existence is filled with experiences and choices that lead us into the next stage. And time goes by.

Our choices, of course, determine our direction in life. I suppose that it is a look at those choices and where I have "ended up" that have been the biggest part of my pondering over the last week. I've thought back through the years. I've remembered people and places and things that have taught me and helped me and hurt me and changed me. I've laughed and cried a bit. I've found many things I am proud of and a few things to regret. But mostly I have discovered a profound gratitude for each day of my 53 years of life. I wouldn't go back to 20 or 30 or 40 even if I could. I am who I am because of where I've been and how I've lived.

If "fifty makes you think" then think this: Be glad to have those fifty years and be grateful for every day that you get to live this incredible journey we call life. All too often, life is cut short. Hopes and dreams and plans cannot be realized. If you've passed fifty, you are one of the lucky ones.........like me.

Got some visiting to do....

with my mom, so you'll have to wait for this week's post until I get back home.
BE OF GOOD CHEER!!!

Cokeville Volleyball Tournament

We have survived another Cokeville High School volleyball tournament. Twelve teams play in the tourney, some going home each night and some camping out at the schools and park and motel. There is really a mob of people around for all day Friday and Saturday.

"Our" girls from Gillette (they've stayed with us all eight years we've owned the place) arrived Thursday night after 8 1/2 hours on the bus and promptly filled the motel rooms and game room and hot tub. Their enthusiasm was catchy. Many of them have been here three years. It was like welcoming family. Fun.

Mariah and the other cheerleaders use the weekend as a fund raiser, filling the concession stand with lots of good food to sell. With the Flying J restaurant closed, it was especially important this year. I went over Thursday afternoon to help make sloppy joes and cinnamon rolls and brownies and rice krispie treats and baked potatoes. They offered lots of other pre-made stuff like pizza, nachos, hot dogs, candy and pop, etc. Because there are only four fall cheerleaders (the others play volleyball), this was quite an undertaking. But they did well, both with the work and with the income.

Seth and I (especially Seth) spent what time we could at the games cheering for both Cokeville and Gillette. Cokeville is the smallest school (BY FAR) and they did really well this year, placing 4th I think. Gillette hung in there for 5th or sixth inspite of several injuries, one quite serious (Seth was there to stand in for the girl's dad, giving assistance where he could and rounding up some crutches). The tournament is set up so that the JV teams play right before each varsity matchup. Their results are not part of the competition, but it gives them a chance to play as a team, too. This is the first tournament of the year for all the schools and the opportunity to be part of it is coveted.

I am continually amazed at how well the girls play, even the youngest. It's WAY different from when I played "back in the day" on junior high/high school/church teams. We just rotated around and tried to keep the ball in the air, with a few attempted spikes! These girls are well trained, serious, skilled athletes. It is really fun to watch.

By 10 pm last night they were all gone again. The concession stand was cleaned and empty. The custodians were finishing up the last tasks and locking up the doors of the school. Motel reservations were already made for next year's event. Seth had waved goodbye to the Gillette girls and retrieved the borrowed crutches. Mariah came home, glad to sit down. Then we all had to smile..........it was so quiet.

Big Day for Nathan

Yesterday was a special day in our family. Our grandson, Nathan Thomas Weske was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. His father, Jon, performed both ordinances. The room was filled with family and friends that love Nathan. Grandpa Seth and Uncle Jason gave talks. His cousins, Rachel and Elena, sang a special song. It was a wonderful meeting.

It's a thing to ponder--a grandchild eight-years-old and ready for baptism. It doesn't seem that long ago that his mother Sarah, pigtailed with teeth missing, was making that same choice. Where have the years gone?

Afterward, we all changed clothes and headed out to the motel play area where we set up the grill and put together a feast in celebration. Everyone pitched in to make it great, bringing food and drinks and hauling tables and chairs. Ben manned the grill, cooking salmon and burgers. Sarah made sure that we topped it all off with pie and brownies! The weather was perfect and the food was awesome. Boyers and Weskes and friends together enjoyed eating and playing and conversing away the afternoon.....definitely a day to remember.

Congratulations Nathan. We are proud of you. Remember those covenants you made today. Continue to try to be like Jesus. It will bring you joy and peace.

Mikayla

My granddaughter, Mikayla, is spending some time with us this week. Jason and Aubrey have taken advantage of my birthday gift to get away for a few days. We are adjusting to having a toddler in the house.

Mikayla is cute as a bug--only 14 months old and already communicating with noises and hand gestures. She opens her big brown eyes wide and pulls her lips into a round "O", expressing surprise and delight at a variety of events. She loves to have other children around her and is not easily upset by their interaction.

This week we have discovered an allergy (probably penicillin) that has covered her in hives, head to toe. But she remains cheerful and apparently unaware that she is now polka-dotted!

Her favorite activity has been to find, follow, and occasionally "freak-out" the cat. She can even say "kit-cat". It's so cute. He's been remarkably patient about the whole thing and doesn't even run away anymore.

I know it won't be long before Mikayla is grown, a woman with her own child. Time goes so quickly. So, for now, I will enjoy these precious moments with her and delight in the blessing of being a grandma.

(check out cute photos of Mikayla on Jason and Aubrey's site: theboyersblog.blogspot.com)

Life with the Littons

I've been hanging out with the Litton children this week. Melody and Brock took a much needed vacation and I flew out to stay with the kids--a birthday present for the two of them.

After my first couple days with the whole family, the parents headed out on their adventure and dropped baby Madison off to another home for respite care (Madison is a foster daughter), leaving me with almost-16-year-old Jessica, 4-year-old Braxton and 3-year-old Blake. Though I have Sarah's three boys over on a regular basis, I haven't done much of the full time, sleep-over type babysitting for a while. It took us the first couple days to move into a routine that worked for all of us, but then it was a piece of cake......and really fun......and quite exhausting.

Jessica has been full of excitement and anticipation for her sweet sixteen birthday tomorrow. Every thought is currently tied to that event. She loves to shop. Walmart is her favorite place on earth! She tried in all possible ways to drag me (the confirmed non-shopper) down to the store to buy something--anything. She wanted this and needed that and hoped for this and couldn't live without that. We had a variety of conversations about using your money wisely and not expecting others to spend their money on silly things you want that would mean nothing tomorrow. We ordered her birthday cake, talked about possible activities for the party, looked through all the decorations she's been gathering for weeks, made invitations and invited everyone she knows to come to the party. Getting her to bed tonight will be difficult because she is so excited.

Braxton is currently interested in only two things: Bakugans (the latest transformer type toy) and money (preferably coins). He spends long periods of time spreading out his twelve Bakugans on the floor, opening them up into their "transformed" state and admiring them. He keeps the money he's earned or found in a backpack and will regularly pull the coins out and put them on the floor in front of him, counting each piece. It doesn't yet matter whether it's a penny or a quarter, each is just one. But at any given time he can tell you exactly how many coins he has collected.

Blake is a loving, giving, teddy bear jammed into a wildly energetic body. He loves hugs and kisses and "I love yous". He'll eat and drink about anything, but especially loves Popsicles. He'll share whatever he has, but will not be left out. He wants his turn. He likes to play rough, and hard and fast. But he also enjoys "shows" and stories and songs. He missed baby Madison and regularly asked if I missed her, too. He kept close track of how long it was until his parents would be coming home.

Madison is adorable. She is growing quickly and has left behind most signs of her very premature birth. She has beautiful skin and a charming smile. Her eyes are big and dark brown
and she has the tiniest feet! She loves to be held and in the middle of things. Her favorite spot is cuddled in the sling on Melody's chest. She fits right in to this unique, welcoming, loving family. They all hope it's forever.

So Melody and Brock are back and Madison, too. They had a good time and were ready to come home. We were all glad to see them. We attended church together and shared the rest of the day. Tomorrow will be a big day for Jessica and I'll be here to watch it all happen, helping out where I can.

Then Tuesday I'll fly home. I'm so glad to have come and shared a few days of life with the Littons.

Afternoon on the River

Seth agreed to take some friends rafting on the Snake River last Friday. He suggested I come along this trip and leave Mariah in charge of the motel (a kind of trial run for this week while I'm in Tennessee). We pumped up the rafts and gathered up all the other essentials, like life jackets and oars and buckets and sun screen and food and water. He gassed up the truck and replaced a flat tire. I made breakfast and helped clean motel rooms. Together all those coming along (the two of us, Tom Nielson and his family, Jordan and Andrew) loaded the rafts onto the trailer and piled in the rest, strapping it all down for the trip.

We headed north for nearly two hours and up the hill to the best spot to launch, leaving Tom's van at the bottom and piling everyone in the truck for the last eight miles or so. We unloaded everything by the river and parked the truck and trailer nearby to be retrieved later. Most of those with us were new to river rafting. There was some hesitancy, even fear, in their eyes.

Tom, Carolyn, their three kids and Seth and I climbed into a big silver raft we've owned for years (we purchased two of them already well-used from some Grand Canyon river guides). Seth manned the oars. Jordan and Andrew, young and adventurous, opted for the smaller green raft and took up the two paddles, quickly learning how to make their way out into the current. We pushed off and were on our way.

You couldn't have picked a more beautiful day. It was warm and sunny with a nice breeze as we floated along. A cloud would hide the sun occasionally, giving us some relief from the direct sunlight. The water was COLD, but the heat from the sun evaporated it quickly away from the skin after the inevitable showers in the white water.

There were many others on the river in a variety of rafts, boats and kayaks, too. Some were with guides who run the river several times a week. Others were in smaller groups or families. There was a camaraderie among us all. We had common purposes and motives, common hopes and fears, common enjoyment and relaxation.

At one point we stopped for a picnic on the shoreline. The kids jumped in, enjoying the cold water and then the hot rocks. We headed out again rolling with the current and feeling a "rush" at the rapids.

There was a place with a cliff above a very deep spot in the river that was unofficially designated for jumping in. Several boats stopped and a variety of people climbed up and jumped the 15-30 feet (depending on how high you climbed) into the cold water and swimming to shore. Jordan, Andrew, Jessica and Riley all jumped--twice!

The afternoon passed quickly and even Carolyn left her fears behind and enjoyed the time. The take out spot was too soon in sight. We pulled the boats out and waited for Seth and Tom to drive up and get the truck and trailer. The clouds began to roll in. Just as we finished loading up the now deflated boats and other equipment, it began to rain. We piled into the vehicles and headed for home.

The adventure was over. But the memories will forever be with us of a perfect afternoon on the river.

My Garden

I'm starting to really enjoy the fruits of my labor in my little garden. I am harvesting spinach, peas, radishes and zucchini. There are blossoms and small green fruits on the tomato and squash plants. The carrots and beets show promise of a fall harvest. The sunflowers are reaching upward along the wall. The flowers have spread out to fill in the empty spaces and are blossoming in a great variety of colors and shapes. My trees (at least the ones in the garden) are growing into REAL trees instead of twigs. There are less weeds and rocks surfacing. I am basking in the beauty of it all.



Isn't it amazing the joy and satisfaction that can come from a little bit of work, a few seeds, some sun and rain, and the good brown soil. I find myself regularly looking out over the garden from the great room just to smile and nod in pleasure. And yet I am still surprised every time I walk into the back yard and find this small magic place that I have created. And magic it is, considering the way I have killed every plant I've ever tried to grow inside!

And so I am including a few photos so you can enjoy it too!

Loss and Grief

I just finished reading "Out of the Canyon" by Art and Allison Daily. It tells a remarkable story of loss and grief, hope and love. Briefly: Art loses his wife and sons in a freak accident and Allison loses her brother to suicide and her husband to divorce. They assist each other through the grieving process, cultivate a loving relationship, marry and have two sons. All of this is helped along by spiritual experiences involving Art's dead family. Though their experience is unique unto them, their thoughts and feelings, expressed so freely in this book, can be enlightening and inspiring for others as all of us face tragedy and death and loss.

Some thoughts I was drawn to from their book:

"...if an empty space of this dimension suddenly appeared in a forest, I know that nature would fill it with as much lushness and beauty as it could. It's the immutable way of our universe when vacuums occur. The human heart seems a lot like that forest. Shatterings are meant to be mended, holes to be refilled. And I believe that God, who created the extraordinary hearts of all beings, intended that they always be full, and that when they are filled with sorrow, an equal measure of joy must be brought forth in order to restore the essential balance of things. This is the magic of hope, the searing heat and glow of our eternal spirit."

"We must put our love into action, for in loving others, we are loving God himself." (Mother Teresa)

"Grief has no rules."

On Angels
(by Czeslaw Milosz)

day draws near
another one
do what you can

They also suggested two books that "are a must have" for those experiencing great loss. "A Grief Observed" by C.S.Lewis and "Only Spring: On Mourning the Death of My Son" by Gordon Livingston. I haven't had a chance to find them yet, but look forward to seeing what they have to offer.

I'm not, of course, going through any particular grief at this point in my life. I do think, however, that we should be armed with what ever tools we can gather to prepare ourselves for that eventuality. For everyone faces loss, and grief is a universal human experience. When that day comes, may we all find our way "Out of the Canyon" and back into the light of love and joy.

Thinking

I like to think.

I like to sit somewhere quiet and let my mind wander, settle on something and ponder. I like to imagine that I'm the first person to think those thoughts, though I know I'm not that original. I like to think about my family, my habits, my work, my world. I like to think about possibilities and probabilities. I like to think about other people, other nations, other places, other lifestyles. I like to think about spiritual things, personal and sacred ideas that motivate me and inspire me. I like to create things in my mind--food, crafts, gardens, quilts, photographs, gadgets, stories, businesses, vacations. I like to plan for weekly jobs to be done, trips to be taken, lessons and assignments to be completed. I like to review the past and take from it lessons to help my today and tomorrow. I like to visualize the future--my trees grown, the house/motel completely finished and business booming, children all settled and grandkids growing, Seth and I in some foreign land teaching the gospel together.

Boyd K Packer once said, "Thoughts are talks we hold within ourselves." It is common knowledge that I like to talk. So I suppose it is natural that I would like to think, have talks with myself.

I believe that if we can't think it, we can't do it. If we can't think it, we can't believe it. If we can't think it, we can't become it. So, I think....and I like to think.

Admiration

Cokeville had a real small town celebration yesterday for Independence Day. It included a breakfast, a patriotic program, an arts and crafts fair, games for the kids, barbecue and fireworks. It was a real fun day (and a lot of work for the organizing committee, I'm sure).

Sandwiched in between all the other activities was the "Little Miss Cokeville" pageant. This involved 15 participants (girls, ages 6-11) who courageously put themselves out there before a fairly large crowd, dressed in their finest and performing their carefully prepared talents. As you can imagine, there were a lot of jitters--emotions do tend to run high in these situations (especially in little girls and some of their mothers). But there, in charge and cheerfully holding things together, was my daughter Sarah. In spite of the inevitable technical difficulties, the pageant came off without a hitch. The hugs the girls gave each other (and Sarah) at the end showed genuine affection and happy satisfaction and little, if any, jealousy or resentment for the winners. Overall, it was a great success.

Yesterday, I saw in Sarah enthusiasm, willing service, organizational skills, real love and concern for each of those little girls, and more patience than Job. She did a terrific job in an assignment that most of us would decline! And she's MY little girl.

It is quite overwhelming to see my children as adults, capably handling their assignments (and lives) with maturity and empathy and wisdom. After helping them through infant and toddler years, elementary school and volatile teenage crises, it is gratifying to recognize that they have become some of my best teachers, good examples and closest friends. Over the years I have often wondered what I did to deserve such great kids. I love and admire them with all my heart....each one.

"To love is to admire with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind." (Theophile Gautier)

Here's to a Happy Marriage!

Last Tuesday Seth and I marked 32 years of marriage. It wasn't until we were both up, dressed, fed, and heading out the door that we realized it was our wedding anniversary. A quick hug and kiss and we were off in separate directions to accomplish the work of the day.

Later, Seth came home early and suggested that I accompany him on a drive up the canyon "for our anniversary". He arranged for Jason and Sarah to cover the motel and we took off in his big truck (as opposed to my little truck). He suggested that while we were up there "we might as well look for my lost back pack." (Look at the post of May 24, "Seth's Spring Adventure" for details on how it was lost.) So we both put on hiking shoes, threw in the chains so we could drive across the still swollen river, sprayed on the bug spray and headed out.

The hour's drive up the Smith's Fork road was beautiful. The recent rains made the area green and the rivers full. It was a delightful trip. We chained up, put the truck in 4-wheel drive and crossed the river, traversed a pretty muddy road, parked the truck and went for a "little walk" along the river. The water was still very muddy and high and rushing fast. We followed a trail to where Seth took his dive and lost the kayak. He showed me where he finally got out of the water and where the boat came to rest down stream in a natural dam of debris. We saw a rope still hanging from a branch where he and Jason had left it when they recovered the boat.

I went up high, looking down on the river for color in the water (the pack had been wrapped in a bright yellow tarp before it was strapped to the kayak). Seth walked along the river searching for any sign. After a bit, Seth saw what appeared to be a strap and managed to carefully maneuver himself closer to take a look. There, well below the surface, not far from where the kayak had lodged, was his pack. HE FOUND IT!! Of course, it had been in the river for a whole month and was filled with muddy water. But, otherwise, it was completely intact with his boots and fishing pole (well, part of the fishing pole) still attached to the outside. The yellow tarp and rope were long gone.

It took every possible effort to pull the pack to the surface of the water and roll it over the branches to the bank. Seth unstrapped the pole and boots, rinsed out the boots and emptied them of all the water and most of the mud. I carried them up the hill to the trail. Everything inside had to be wrung out before the pack could be lifted to his back. We hiked back to the truck, still marveling at our little miracle. We found it! The drive back home was jubilant after such a remarkable conclusion to our search.

(Just a note in case you're curious. Much of the content of the pack is still usable. The stove, knives, clothes and pack itself are good as new now that they are clean. We even have hope for the binoculars and video camera. The camera and cell phone are total losses. But Seth came home alive and what was lost is found.)

Two years ago Seth and I went to Hawaii to celebrate our anniversary--the trip of a lifetime. Last year we had dinner at the Flying J down the street. This year we "went for a drive" and ate cold cereal when we got home. It may sound to some people like things are headed down hill in the romance department. In actuality, it's quite the opposite. We honeymooned in the mountains and have happily celebrated several anniversaries backpacking in the same high Wind Rivers, enjoying the beautiful quiet and solitude. The giddy high that we enjoyed together this year, upon unexpectedly finding what was lost, was remarkably similar to those early days of our marriage. This anniversary will still be remembered and discussed thirty years from now when we celebrate 62 years!

So here's to happy marriage. We are so blessed to have each other.

Today is Father's Day.

Traditionally on Father's Day we tend to think of our own fathers and, of course, I do with fond appreciation. But this Father's Day I wanted to comment on the fathers that are also my sons.

My oldest son, Ben, has four children (3 daughters and one son). Recently I spent a few minutes with his family as they dropped him at Grandma Sally's before the rest of them headed to Nana's for the night. It was brief, only a few minutes really, but in those few minutes I saw the father he has become. He cheerfully greeted Mom and I, shuttled the girls to the bathroom, calmed the baby with a binky, settled on the schedule for the next day with Heidi, redirected two year old Creed from something off limits, reloaded everyone into the car and waved them off, still smiling when he came back inside. Not more than five minutes later, their van pulled back up to the house because someone did not get a chance to say goodbye. He lovingly complied with hugs and kisses all around. While we headed off to bed (and in spite of the fact that he had few hours ahead for sleep), he waited patiently for them to call and report their safe arrival before he slept.

"A good father is a little bit of a mother." (Lee Salk)

Jason has a daughter just turned one year old. Both he and Aubrey dote on Mikayla shamelessly. Like Ben, Jason takes his turn at diaper duty, feeding, clothing, etc. and he enjoys "daddy duty". Through it all, though, it is his obvious affection for his wife that stands out. Together they will live and love and parent their children.

"The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother." (Theodore Hesburgh)

Jon and Brock, our sons-in-law, have their own styles of fathering. Jon spends lots of time with his boys, playing and working and riding bikes and going places. Brock wrestles and boxes with his boys, listens well to his teenage daughter, and welcomes a new foster daughter with open arms (even though he said he was "done with babies").
They've both taken fatherhood in stride and are helping their children learn life's lessons.

"One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters." (George Herbert)

I am thankful today for all the fathers in my life, for my father and my father in law, for Seth--the father of my children, and for these wonderful fathers who are also my sons. I am especially grateful for a loving Father in Heaven who gave us families and opportunity to learn together to be more like him.

One last thought:

"What a father says to his children is not heard by the world; but it will be heard by posterity." (Jean Paul Richter)

Food, Glorious Food

I woke up this morning to the smell of a roast cooking in the crock pot. It filled the house with a delicious invitation to get up the enjoy the day.

There is nothing quite like food--the smells and tastes and textures, the comfortable feeling of having enough, the renewed energy, the shared experience of eating together. Luciano Pavarotti said, "One of the nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating." I agree.

"Whatever will satisfy hunger is good food," says a Chinese proverb. I agree with that, too. It can be something as simple as a few strawberries or carrots. It can be a bowl of oats with a bit of honey. It can be warm, fresh bread right from the oven. It can be a spoonful of peanut butter or a crispy apple or peas picked and eaten right in the garden. It doesn't take much.

Occasionally it is nice to create a meal of more diverse options. Family gatherings often call for a little more thought and preparation. Together we gather, mix and make favorites sure to please every palate. It can be sensory delight and tasty comfort. Days, even years, later we recall the feelings from such a meal when we taste or smell the food eaten then.

Many are "salty" or "sweet" or "spicy" fans. Some don't do fish or "green things" or red meat or squash or sushi or sugar. Some only do whole grains and fresh fruits and vegetables. Some only do things proportioned and packaged and easily available on the go...."some like it hot and some like it cold."

Now, personally, I'll eat almost anything. In a world where so many go without, it's almost a crime not to. Leftovers will store for another day. Several things can be combined to make something new. Remember "waste not, want not." While I enjoy a feast as much as the next person, I don't require much to be happy.

Mark Twain said, "The only way to keep your health is to eat what you don't want, drink what you don't like, and do what you'd druther not." Gene Brown commented, "As with liberty, the price of leanness is eternal vigilance." While these may both speak truth, I prefer to dwell on Thomas Jefferson's idea, "We never repent of having eaten too little." And I always hold to the wisdom of Miss Piggy, "Never eat more than you can lift!"

Mariah's Summer Ahead

Today I will drive across the great state of Wyoming to take Mariah to Univerity of Wyoming's High School Summer Institute in Laramie....five hours over and five hours back! While I have really enjoyed living in Wyoming and find MANY beautiful places here, I-80, across the sage brush of the south end of the state, is not one of them. At least I will have good company on the way over and some great tunes on the way back.

This is a summer of new experiences for Mariah. She turned 16 in May. Her first week as a licensed driver involved daily trips to Montpelier, Idaho (60 miles round trip) for EFY (Especially for Youth, a BYU regional program for teenagers). Because of a variety of other conflicts, Mariah was the only Cokeville teen to attend the conference, so there was no one to help car pool. She got along great, even figuring out an optional route one night when an accident blocked the road and taking care of some grocery shopping for me. Seth was a little concerned about all the driving, but I knew she would manage well (having done 99% of her learners driving with her).

The next three weeks she'll be in Laramie for HSI. This is an opportunity to get a feel for college life, meet students from all over the state, visit lots of Wyoming places, and try out some interesting humanities and science classes. Again, Mariah is the only Cokeville student attending. But it promises to be a grand adventure. She'll make new friends, expand her mind, see new things and, perhaps, miss home a bit. I know we'll be missing her.

Then comes girls camp in the Idaho mountains, cheer camp in Ogden, a trip to Tennessee, and back home again for Pioneer Day. Somewhere before school starts again we will fit in trips to the dentist and school shopping, some motel housekeeping, family reunions, and time to kick back at home.

I can't help but think of those days, not so long ago, when Mariah spent her summers lounging in the tree with a book or wading in the creek or arranging movie parties in the afternoons or walking to the store for a treat and the library for more books, sleeping late, singing silly songs, and somehow avoiding many chores. Her long blond hair is now dark, with carefully added highlights. Her voice and shape are now a woman's. She has matured into an interesting, capable, helpful, adventurous person.

I'm glad she can have this summer's experiences. But Seth and I will both miss her. We're not "empty nesters" yet, but this will be a small taste of things to come.

Go out there and have a blast, Mariah. We love you.

Note: I just got back and I owe Wyoming an apology. That drive across 1-80 was absolutely beautiful today! Everything is so green. There is so much open space with high plains, hills, valleys and mountains, grass and sage brush, rivers and wild game. There wasn't much in the way of traffic and very little road construction. It was a long drive, but perfectly delightful after all.

Sunday Morning

I woke up this morning at 6:08 am, just like every other morning. But today, unlike most mornings, I rolled over and closed my eyes again. I snuggled down into my quilt and drifted back into an unfinished dream. Then I slowly became aware of sounds: a train, the fridge motor, the cat dashing down the stairs, traffic on the highway, a bird, Seth rolling over. I slowly opened my eyes to sunlight filtering through the blinds and no evidence of wind blowing. No need to hurry. It is Sunday morning and the world can wait.

It's nearly seven before I get out of bed. Seth is showing no sign of getting up. Mariah is sleeping, and will be for quite a while. There are no engines running in the parking lot, no motel guests ringing the bell or phone. The house is quiet and still. No early meetings today and church isn't until ten. The yard work is done until tomorrow. The laundry will wait for another few days. Sunday is different, a needed change after six very busy days.

I wake up slowly in a long hot shower. I let the water run over me, enjoying the luxury. Extra time in the bathroom is one of the advantages of the kids growing up and leaving home. I lotion up my legs and dry hands and cracked heels. Then I head to the kitchen for something warm and delicious, my favorite breakfast of hot cereal and fruit.

I empty the dishwasher, put in my bowl and spoon, and clear away Saturday's clutter from the counters. Dinner today will be easy with corn on the cob, salad, and grilled salmon, already marinating in the fridge. Sarah is doing some kind of bread. Seth is up and has already taken out the garbage and watered my hanging baskets. I feel loved. I take a few minutes to catch up on my email and look over the schedule for the week ahead. Mariah emerges from her room, towel in hand and hair rumpled. A brief "hey" and she's in the shower.

On Sunday mornings I tend to look at my life, examine my faith, count my blessings and find ways to strengthen relationships. Today I love my life, am secure in my faith, overwhelmed by my many blessings, and grateful for my many friends and family. I look forward to my morning church meetings with their renewal of covenants and new insights, a loud family dinner with the Weskes, the afternoon to rest and re-energize, perhaps a game or a movie with Mariah and Seth, phone calls and emails to my loved ones, and time to organize my efforts for the week ahead.

Sunday is a gift, a blessing, a day for family and faith and rest. I'm so glad it is Sunday morning.

Seth's Spring Adventure

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like falling leaves." (John Muir)

Seth recently finished a big block job and decided it was time to get out of "this false life" into the "reality" of the mountains. So last Monday afternoon he packed up his gear and headed to the hills. His plan was to drive as far as he could toward Lake Alice, stopping when the snow and mud made passage impossible, and then hiking up and over whatever it took to reach the lake. He left a kayak by the lake last fall and thought he'd see if it was still tied to the tree there and, perhaps, bring it out. He purchased a bear tag "just in case" and a fishing license "if the ice is off the lake". He filled his water jugs and gathered some easy-prep food and a fry pan (and real butter, of course) "for the fish". He headed out the door, turned back long enough for a quick kiss and "don't worry unless I'm not back by Saturday afternoon", and he was off.

A little more than three days later, Seth came home. He had a bleeding gash on his ear and he was still wearing his fishing waders. He was not carrying his pack into the house, had no fish on a string, and was not showing off any photos. There was no coat or rifle in sight. But, because I was occupied carrying groceries into the house, it was quite a while later before I realized that these clues were telling me more than Seth was!

To get all the details of this adventure you'll have to hear the complete version from Seth himself. However, the short version, from what I've been able to figure, goes something like this:

He drove to a spot where the river crosses the road, left the truck there, waded the river and hiked over the mountain to the lake. He saw lots of deer, elk and even a cinnamon colored black bear. For a couple days he enjoyed the quiet and the solitude, even the strenuous exercise. This was just the change of pace he had hoped for. The lake was still covered with ice. The kayak was still where he left it in the fall.

He decided to bring the kayak out, dragging it over the snow. At one point he left his sleeping bag and gun by the trail, planning to retrieve it in a couple weeks when the road opened up, and decided to ride the kayak out on the river. He loaded his pack and self onto the kayak and headed out. Wild ride. Great adventure. However, it ended in a bit of disaster. The boat flipped on a waterfall, throwing and sinking Seth in the cold, fast moving spring runoff water. He was in a "washing machine" for a time, lost his paddle but grabbed a branch as the boat drifted by. The powerful river pinned him against the tree, but his head was above water and he watched helplessly as the boat drifted down the river. His waders became filled with water, making it difficult to pull himself out. But, luckily, his squirrel-chewed life jacket held his head above water. The kayak became trapped upside down by a natural damn of collected debris, the pack still strapped to it. Thankfully, he was eventually able to get himself out of the water, but could not retrieve the kayak without some help. He hiked to the truck and came home.

Jason went up with Seth the next morning. They hiked until they found the kayak (it had moved several hundred feet down river) and together were able to hook it and pull it to shore. The pack, though, was nowhere to be seen, the straps holding it had ripped away. A thorough search of the area produced nothing. They gave it up.

I won't even tell you what was in the the backpack. It could give you a stomach ache. Suffice it to say, that little blue kayak is now worth a lot more than it used to be! Truth be told, it doesn't really matter. It was just stuff. But if any of you along the Smith's Fork come across a light gray backpack, full of very wet equipment and a once great pair of hiking boots, you'll know it belongs to Seth.

The important thing is that Seth came home, scraped and scratched and cold, but in one piece--alive. He is none the worse for the wear and tear. He is already planning his next adventure......what a guy!

"A little madness in the spring is wholesome even for a king." (Emily Dickenson)

PLANTING

Over the past few weeks I have been planting trees, tiny saplings no taller than three feet. Some are destined to become tall bushy shade trees. Some are evergreens. I've found joy in the process, though it has not been an easy task.

The soil in Wyoming is dry and rock-filled, some clay. The digging is difficult, requiring not only a shovel but a pick. My hands have developed blisters beneath calluses. Watering of the newly planted trees is a long process. Hoses must be carried to close proximity. Often ice still fills the hoses in the early part of the day. Care must be taken to fill the wells without damaging the tender roots just below the surface. The wind is already trying to bend over the frail trunks. I suppose there are reasons for so few trees in my desert home.

Planting requires a certain amount of faith, hope in nature's certainty. Natural laws say that what you plant will grow, if provided with what it needs. The very act of putting a seed in the ground, is an expression of belief in it's ability to flourish. A sunflower seed will produce sunflowers. An acorn will produce an oak tree. A tomato seed will produce a plant full of round, red, edible tomatoes. A zucchini seed will produce enough squash to feed the neighborhood! Our part is to dig and plant and water and fertilize and save the plant from weeds. We look to the sun and earth and the seed itself to do the rest. Each growing thing is its own miracle really.

Planting is worth the effort, even recognizing that as many as 60% of my little trees may not survive the brutal elements of our climate. My careful choice of species and constant vigilance may not be enough to help some of them "fill the measure of their creation". But I have hope that twenty years from now, on any given summer afternoon, you will find me sitting beneath one of my trees sipping lemonade and reading a good book. And so I plant.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

To all you wonderful women out there--

mothers,
daughters,
sisters,
grandmothers,
aunts,
friends,
neighbors

What would the world be without women?

Have a great day!

WICKED

This week I had the opportunity to attend the theatre to see the musical production "Wicked", thanks to a Christmas gift from Ben and Heidi. The whole experience was wonderful--comfortable seats, good view, great company, fantastic performance. I won't ruin the story for those of you who have not yet had the chance to see the play. Suffice it to say, it is the story of the witches of "The Wizard of Oz". It cleverly links all the familiar characters, revealing their history and more detail into their true character. The music, of course, was the highlight for me and the sound system brought you right down to stage level (even though I was sitting on the mezzanine). The energy of the performers was incredible and the nearly three hour production moved along very quickly, entertaining to the very end. Over all, the evening was fabulous. Even the late night drive home was pleasant as I relived it all in my mind.

I've always loved live stage productions. Since I was small they have been part of my world. Mom was involved in music and theatre as a performer. That's even how she found Dad, who took care of the production and promotion side. As much as I like movies, I will always enjoy attending live productions. (Just a little note about that: during one scene in "Wicked" a prop was thrown into the air and instead of coming down as planned, it landed on top of some scenery causing a brief break in character and lots of laughter from the audience.) You never know what is going to happen. It is real every time.

A few thoughts from the musical:

"Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by the rules
Of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and leap..." (Elphaba)

"I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you." (Glinda)

So whenever you get the chance, whether it is a small local show or a Broadway production, attend some live theatre. It's always worth your time and will entertain in a way you will find no where else. The only thing better is to be performing!

WHAT IS IT ABOUT MUSIC?

I was in a church meeting today that included a performance by a small choir. They were few in numbers, a variety of ages, a rag-tag type group, typical of most ward choirs. I wasn't impressed by their appearance and didn't expect much. But when they began to sing, my heart was transformed. They sang a simple arrangement of a familiar hymn with pure, perfect harmony. Suddenly I felt like I was in heaven, safe and comfortable, loved. There was a spirit of peace, a reminder that God is aware of all. I felt a yearning for the music to go on, for life's challenges to remain at bay for just one more moment.

What is it about music that touches our very soul? How can a simple melody flood our hearts and minds with peace and hope and joy?

Earlier in the week, I spent an evening with my grandson, Jaxon. We blew bubbles and shared a sandwich. We played with Legos and action figures. When it was time to go home, we took a few minutes to clean up the toys. He was hesitant to help at first, but then he started singing, "Clean up. Clean up. Everybody do your part..." and off he went to finish the job.

What is it about music that motivates us and makes our work seem easier?

Last night Seth and I watched a movie together. Music set the tone of the movie even before any picture took shape. We had a good idea what type of story would unfold before a word was spoken.

What is it about music that arouses our senses and brings our emotions to the surface?

A few weeks ago I turned on the radio and heard "La Traviata". Memories of days long past flooded my mind: thoughts of Mom and her stage performances, coming home to find Dad sleeping in the middle of the floor with classical tunes blaring, back yard plays and nights at BYU dance productions. I left it turned to classical music all afternoon and reveled in the memories.

What is it about music that opens our minds and awakens our memories?

I love music. I can't imagine life without it. I'm so grateful that it has been such a big part of my life.

"Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing. Thanks for all the joy their bringing. Who can live without it? I ask in honesty. What would life be? Without a song or a dance what are we?
So I say thank you for the music...for giving it to me...." (ABBA)

ANGER

A few weeks ago, my nephew Jeff filled his blog with thoughts on anger. It's been on my mind ever since. I've noticed anger in social situations, at the gas station, on the road, at the school and the post office, and a few times in myself. I've seen it put up walls between friends, siblings, parents and children, teachers and students, coaches and teammates.

I've remembered times in my life when I let anger take over and the results--sadness, shame, ruined relationships, sometimes even horror at the magnitude of it's power. I have looked inward, searching myself for any remaining justifications or explanations to ever allow anger to determine my actions. Luckily, I don't often deal with anger in my home. We are usually easy-going and calm. I have come to recognize anger sometimes as an expression of other feelings--bitterness, grief, hurt, especially fear. Like most things, I find it easier to forgive anger in others before myself. I don't want anger in my life. As an imperfect human, though, I sometimes allow it in, however unwanted.

Others' thoughts on anger that have struck a chord with me recently:

Anger and resentment can stop you in your tracks. It needs nothing to burn but the air and the life that it swallows and smothers. It's real, though, the fury. Even when it isn't, it can change you, turn you, mold you and shape you into someone you're not. The only upside to anger is the person you become...hopefully someone who wakes up someday and realizes they're not afraid of it's journey. Someone who knows that the truth at it's best is a partially told story. That anger, like growth, comes in spurts and fits and in it's wake leaves a new chance at acceptance and the promise of calm. (The Upside of Anger)

If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow. (Chinese proverb)

Getting angry can sometimes be like leaping into a wonderfully responsive sports car, gunning the motor, taking off at high speed and then discovering the brakes are out of order. (Maggie Scarf)

Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind. (Robert G. Ingersoll)

Thanks to Jeff for bringing up the subject and leading me to some introspection. Everyone will sometimes feel anger. Learning to control anger is part of becoming our best self. I will continue to work on that.

Easter Sunday

Today is Easter Sunday. The morning is quiet, peaceful, full of introspection and gratitude.

I ponder on the the first Easter, the day Christ rose from the grave and appeared to those who loved him, alive again. The joy they must have felt. I think of the journey that took him from his manger birth to his death on a cross at Calvary. He lived to do his father's will. He showed love to everyone. He performed miracles. He blessed old and young, rich and poor, strong and weak. He was patient, kind, wise...perfect. His atonement allows the rest of us to have hope in resurrection and exaltation.

I know he lives. He is my brother, my friend, my example, my savior. It is by him and through him that all mankind can be saved. I am so grateful for this knowledge and the Spirit that confirms it to me.

So, today will be filled with joy. It's Easter and I know he lives.

We Need Each Other

In my travels last week I read a book called "Here if you Need Me" by Kate Braestrup. The author went to ministry school after the death of her husband and became a chaplain for a team of search and rescue workers. She relates experiences and some thoughts and ideas from her work and life. Some of my favorite quotes:

"At other times...all the specifics that separated me from Annie--age, race, class, state of health, who needed care and who provided it--would fall away, and we would just be there alive together. And that would be a moment vibrating, in some sweet and startling way, with all the electric potential of love."

"Mrs. Levesque (who's husband was just found dead in the water) will put me to use as a witness, as crutch, as Kleenex, as proxy for Jean-Pierre--a temporary substitute for all the neighbors, church folk, friends, and family members who will soon come bursting through her door to share her grief. I am a transitional love object, an objet d'amour...What a strange privilege it is to be so used."

"Sometimes I think I live and work in a parallel universe. That is, I know that I live in a crass and boorish culture, a culture of shock jocks and road rage, "reality" television and thong underwear, corruption and consumerism, mean porn and meaner theology. I know all this. And still, the world I move through is rich and beautiful, and the people I work with...are decent, discerning and good."

Don...has that enviable quality I see in some... It's as if, no matter what the circumstances--even staggering around in wet woods looking for a corpse--he is always centered and joyful, with well-being at his core."

"But then, a grateful heart beats in a world of miracles. If I could only speak one prayer for you, my children, it would be that your hearts would not only beat but grow ever greater in gratitude, that your lives, however long they prove to be and no matter how they end, continue to bring you miracles in abundance."

"Hell is when you die, and no one cares."

Good thoughts. Thoughts that promote more thoughts. And, while I don't agree with much of her theology, I was impressed with her love and compassion and faith in humanity. We really do need each other and, though I will never be an ordained minister or a chaplain of any sort, I intend to be more aware of others around me. I want to "be there alive together" and feel that "electric potential of love" and have a life filled with "miracles in abundance."

Happily Ever After

My daughter Diana married her sweetheart, Travis Thornton, last week. What a wonderful occasion. We are so happy for both of them. We traveled to Salt Lake City and then Seattle to attend, and assist where we could, the temple ceremony and two receptions. The happy couple are now honeymooning in Jamaica--lucky them. I wish them lots of quiet rest, sunshine, romance, adventure and happiness.

So today I offer some quotes appropriate for the occasion:

"Living happily ever after is not the end of a fairy tale. It is the common purpose that all life seeks." (Bob Mandel)

"Marriage is our last, best chance to grow up." (Joseph Barth)

"A happy marriage is the union of two forgivers." (Ruth Bell Graham)

"Get on with living and loving. You don't have forever." (Leo Buscaglia)

"No cord or cable can draw so forcibly or bind so fast, as love can do with a single thread." (Robert Burton)

"A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person." (Mignon McLaughlin)

I hope Diana and Travis, and all the rest of us, can live "happily ever after" as we "get on with living and loving."