Stories Survived to be Shared

I did it! I wrote twelve stories for the Twelve Days of Christmas, complete with pictures and sent them to my children in a decorated binder to read each night. This was part of focusing on a Christ centered Christmas. When I missed the "Best Christmas Ever" story deadline to the local newspaper, I decided to write them anyway.








The stories included religious, memorable, funny and from mine and Allan's youth. I asked the children as they read them, to think about their own experiences and have their parents tell about some of theirs. A great deal of missed opportunities are passed by when we want to share, but don't. This was my chance to do it and leave a legacy for my grand children to enjoy year after year.

They were introduced to some of my best and worst, longest and shortest, funnest and most boring Christmases. This was only the beginning. There is more.

When we begin to write about our youth or past, the flood gates open and many things we had forgotten come to mind. Take the time to write about some of your great events and share them with your family. Questions they didn't think to ask will be answered. Someday they will be glad you did and so will you.

Drilling Down on December

My accountant taught me how to drill down to decifer finances. I'm drilling down on what festivities to attend during the month. A Sounds of the Season choir performance, first time ever seeing the Forgotten Carols and a Christmas breakfast, lunch and four dinner events are all done.

Still on the list are a seeing a live nativity, It's a Wonderful Life or some other play, a Trees of Diversity display, a river cruise, two weddings and a Christmas Carole Sing-Along. No wonder I sleep like crap and fly off the handle over little or nothing.

Then there is the book, 'A Christ Centered Christmas,' I picked up. It made me feel guilty that I was devoting too much time to fluff. Jesus is the reason for the season. 3am every morning like clockwork, I spend thirty minutes reading the Four Gospels, about his birth and the great gifts He gives us 24/7.

Don't forget the twelve velvet Christmas stockings I bought two years ago to fill and give to the needy. They're still empty and waiting for employment.

At work I secretly filled up the 'Food Bank' trash can, because it was empty. Now more has been added to it. Yeah! Next are treats for the gang and gifts for others.

GIVING, Giving, giving
Every day you are living.
You'll never have a misgiving
When you are generously giving.

Handicrafts for the Holidays

Surprisingly we had the kids making crafts on Thanksgiving. These turkey pumpkins with fancy paper tails kept the young men busy. Afterwards turkey shaped table favors made from Oreos, corn candy and sprinkles were cute as could be. Too bad we forgot to take a photo. I'm sure the Oreo website has a sample.

The highlight of a holiday is also playing board games. Apples to Apples Junior is our current favorite. I hate to throw the turkey pumpkins out. Maybe I'll make penguins out of them dressed in Christmas colors.

Get ideas for Christmas crafts from the internet, magazines and friends. You will be glad you did.

Thank a Crank

I often get cranky, when there is so much pressure to perform for Thanksgiving Day. It is mostly created by my own doing because I want a perfect table, delicious food, great interaction with family, nice clean house and much, much more. It seldom happens, but when the day is done, I can't deny that it went well and I need to quit crying over spilled milk.

Many are the past Thanksgiving Days that I never shared 'MY' plan with my family. They didn't know my standard or were too busy with their own lives to care or help which I really needed. When all is said and done, it isn't that it was perfect in my eyes, but was I pleasant enough to enjoy them and the time we were together?

Just let it go girl. There are too many quiet days, alone to ruin the ones we have together. Make that a rule. Brand it into your thick brain, that no matter what happens: Crispy over fried turkey, spills on the tablecloth, hard rolls, oven not working, tired from lack of sleep or more than you can remember; get over it and 'Behold your little ones!'

From Boston to Bunker Hill and Back

My first visit to Boston was so brief I have to go back. There was only time to walk the Freedom Trail from the Park Street Church to Bunker Hill. Along the way we saw Paul Revere's statue and home, Granary Burial Ground, Old City Hall, State House and more. We crossed the Charlestown Bridge, caught a glimpse of the harbor, USS Constitution, the Green Beltway and wow, what a walk it was.

We followed the red painted three mile pathway all over town. A few times the route was obscured by construction. It was like the ants in "A Bug's Life" when they had a fit because their road was blocked. Looking around at hundreds of others on the same pilgrimage, we took off again for another landmark.

A sign advertising a spagetti lunch for $7.95 drew us into a local eatery. One order would have sufficed. The helping was so generous. Back on the road again (or sidewalk), we saw Bunker Hill in the distance high on its hill and similar to the Washington Monument in D.C. We made it but our feet refused to climb the 400 steps to the top.

As we finished our walk to freedom, and headed for the subway 'The T', I saw a shopping bag lady with two carts full of plastic bags, cans and all her belongings at the corner of the busy intersection. Boston, a place for everyone.

Doctor Dresses Up

I went for my annual checkup today, October 31st. After being shown into my room and told what to put on the nurse left. When ready, I was instructed to flip the green light switch 'On'. Within seconds I was ready and flipped the switch. I waited and waited, for what seemed like an hour in the examination room. Surely the lightbulb was burned out, I thought and contemplated opening the door to see.

Finally, a pirate that looked like a chubby Jack Sparrow waltzed through the door. Surprise, it was my OB-GYN. This is the 'trick' you get when you go to the doctors on Halloween. I picked up my 'treat' (candy bar) when arriving for the appointment.

He agreed to a photo and said he had had others ask also. I would have had the nurse take a picture of both of us, but my pink and red exam cover-up was too ugly & risque' to show. To be safe and smart make sure you get a regular annual physical this year.

I was deemed healthy and ready for another year on the high seas.

Running Around in Rhode Island

Rhode Island is one of those states few of us get to actually visit. I checked it off my bucket list this month as we drove over the bridge headed for Newport, bordering the ocean on two sides.

This city of the nineteenth century 'rich and famous' brats has dozens of mansions to visit. Quaint trolleys take you around the town to see from the street or stop and take a closer look inside these opulent summer homes. A sea walk borders the back properties where debutante parties by the Vanderbuilts, Berwins and 'millionaire' homeowners were held all summer long.

Glass, gold, marble, walnut and more fill these dinosaur hulks interiors. Spiral staircases, fifty foot woodburning kitchen stoves, five styles of china, chandeliers bigger than a car were a must. $100,000 was the tab for just one weekend 'Got to impress the Joneses' event.

Our eyes couldn't take in the grandeur of each estate. Sad we were that such waste and selfishness ruled this class of people. Would we do the same in our day?

The funnest part of Rhode Island was the mile markers on the highways. Where most states have posts for every mile. This tiny one has mile markers for every quarter mile posted as 1.2, 1.4, 1.6 and so on. I wish I would have taken a photo of one.
Put Rhode Island on your list to visit. It will be worth it.

Goblin Valley

Goblin Valley and the surrounding area has some of the most interesting shaped rocks anywhere. No wonder it has become a state park.

Temple Mountain (first 2 photos) north of Goblin Valley can be seen from a great distance while traveling on I-70, Hwy 6 and all roads in the vicinity. This striking white and red landmark rises thousands of feet heavenward catching the attention of all. Rain clouds frequently cluster around this sacred marker. What feelings does it evoke in the common man? Native Americans must have used it as a point of reference and more. No wonder the Mormons were inspired to settle the state and build temples.

The old rock building my brother-in-law, Tom and I are sitting on, built in the 1800's by early settlers was part of a thriving ranch. Abandoned and damaged by vandals over the years sits quietly at the base of Temple Mountain. It's history and people would be most interesting.

Indian petroglyphs high on the rock walls hold on dearly to its sheer face as hikers snap photos to extend the life of a long forgotten people. Look beyond the bullet holes. What could the indian's message mean? Real artists sharing their talent or telling their story to another generation.

I'd Say It's Been a Superb September

From day one this month has been delightful. Nary a complaint can be found. The weather can't be beat with nights in the 50's and days hovering between the 70's and 80's. Neither air-conditioner or furnace was needed.

Gardens flourished. My second crop of peas and lettuce planted in August have begun to produce or are blooming. While hiking among the mountains, their exquisite fall outfits made Oscar contenders look cheap. The unmatched beauty of our state and federal parks proved God's embrace in its creation.

Words cannot convey the joy a perfect month brings.

Our Surviving Sunflower of Summer

I love sunflowers and wanted row of toddler sized heads of them bobbing back and forth greeting passers by with their youthful radiance in the yard. In my mind I almost waved to them while planting a package of seeds this spring. Alas, it was not to be. Many grew, but few endured the wild winds, lack of water and competition with hardier plants.

Pictured is the lone survivor standing front and center in the flowerbed. When does that ever happen? Watching and waiting for it's full petaled arrival early one morning had us on pins and needles. Like a child, it opened when it was 'Good and ready'.

Unlike a kid the survivor stood still for it's multiple photo shoot. With the summer season clock ticking to an end we will try, try again, next year.

Nuts about Nine, Ten, Eleven

I am nuts about 9/10/11. On this day BYU and Texas are playing football in Austin, Texas with nearly 100,000 in attendance. The U of U is playing USC in LA. Both lost by close margins. I spent the day pressure washing the exterior of my mother's home, attended a 21st birthday party and wanted to do nine more fun things going on in the valley. Our neighbors son is getting married today on 9/10/11. It's a good day for a blog post, to pay checks and repeat 9/10/11 over and over.

At these ages of 9, 10 and 11 we are in the fourth through six grades. Boys and girls begin to notice and tease one another with childhood crushes. I learned to play chess, four square and Polka dance with Dale Butterfield. Mastering times tables, long division and fractions was required and acheived. Mrs. Fine, Mr. Drew and Mr. Johnson were my teachers those grades.

What a carefree time life is at age nine, ten or eleven. We think life will always stay the same and never change, nor do we want it to. Summers are never long enough and friends become bosom buddies. Sleep overs, bike rides and making cookies rule. What a great time of life.

The Greater Green Grass Area

I was on a mission last Saturday to fix our sprinkling system. Something is wrong when several areas of grass beside sprinkler heads are yellow and dying. I was determined to make it more efficient. Turning each set on, I watched the heads struggle to pop up,their spray barely reaching above the shortest blades of grass. Most were too deep in the heavy over growth of grass to do any good. Tilted heads watered the sidewalk and some sprayed inconsistent due to splits in their tops.

I was like a toddler running through the sprinklers trying to find each head, dig down to it, clear the area and jimmy the flexible end attached to it up to the top of the grass. I became drenched with the goal of green grass. Every neighbor driving by thought I was insane. Dirt, grass and weeds flew as each head was loosened from it's overgrown grave. Unfortunately grass grows, but sprinkler heads do not. Grass lumps were shoved under each spot to maintain the proper height.

Most heads were coaxed to a better place. The ones I missed are being marked with my handy yard tool until 'someone' gets their butt outside to finish the job.

Watch for greener grass on this side of the fence.

'The Great Family Get-to-Gether'

Ah, 'The Great Family Get-to-Gether' resulted in a miracle photo that shows how much fun it was with 90% smiles (although photo shows only 50% smiling)of the 65% in attendance. Take one beautiful day, add 13 people, 4 cars, one disqualified softball game, a yummy breakfast and you have a hike to Donut Falls. All of us got a legal parking space and made it to the end of the trail.

10% made it to the top, 5% had walking sticks they liked, 50% waded in the water. Many were fearful of hike fatigue, but snacks at trail's end overcame that. Some saw moose, most got hot, everyone ate and had fun. Several took photos, mountain views were enjoyed, no one complained (to me) and we talked of repeating it again next year. Thank you all for coming because we needed it. Love Mom

Made It to Martin Harris Pageant

With my nephew's wedding in Logan last week, we decided to go the the Martin Harris Pageant, too. Only problem is I didn't buy gas when the tank was low, thinking there was one more station, but there wasn't. Twenty miles later at 7:10 pm, we sat at the crossroads of three towns with an empty tank. Tiny Clarkston, where the pageant was(fifteen miles away,)probably didn't have gas. Logan and Wellsville were our choices. Not knowing how far it was to each town, we turned toward Wellsville. Ten miles later we gased up.

Heading back toward Clarkston I wished for rain to delay it, because the paper said it began at 7:30pm. How dumb, we would miss half of the play, I could only be mad at myself. Arriving at 8 pm what a miracle to see we were actually early. The play started at 8:30. Yeah! Great seats, play & time to relax and forget my fiasco.

Martin Harris, one of the Three Witnesses of the Book of Mormon, came to Utah in 1870 at the age of 87 and settled in Clarkston, Utah, where he died on July 10, 1875. He enjoyed sharing his testimony with those who would visit him and encouraged them to share his story and testimony with others

On July 10, 1925, the 50th anniversary of Martin Harris' death, LDS Church President Heber J. Grant dedicated a large granite monument on the gravesite with an inscription telling of Harris' role as a special witness and his testimony of the Book of Mormon. Also, a copper box containing a Book of Mormon, a Doctrine & Covenants, and testimonies of many of the people who had known Martin and heard his testimony was placed at the base of the monument.

The pageant became a reality on a hill at the edge of the Clarkston Cemetery about twenty years ago. If you are in the Cache Valley this summer, be sure to see this free play about his life July 30th-Aug 13th. Be smart & buy gas at the freeway exit.

Fifty-nine and Failing

Recently I heard someone say it was sublime to be fifty nine. I beg to differ. After spending a month in that state of life. So far I have noticed my hearing failing, my memory more forgetful, my brain fuzzy when called upon to work and my joints freezing up more frequently. Not to mention, I finally found the phone, keys and camera I misplaced yet again. The shoes, good spelling and jacket are still missing. Frankly, I'm frustrated.

For all who have been there, done that, my apologies for not sympathizing with you sooner. Those have yet to hit the mark. Watch out! It's a bummer. This decline may be gradual or quick, real or imagined, but never welcomed. Even my granddaughter, Sarah, has noticed when I ask her to repeat it again. How annoying to look for days for something to discover it has been in the bottom of your purse or under the car seat the whole time. Apparently I am blind, too.

It's only a matter of time before the care center comes knocking on my door or the kids haul me there on the sly.

In Search of Internet Service

We fired our internet provider of two years. It was down more times than it was working. It had been an adequate union, but 'not available' was the killer. Currently we are in search of another service that won't break the bank.

'Bundling' is the big push by many groups these days, but the costs are unreal after the honeymoon phase. It feels like they are trying to boondogle us into a bungling batch of nothing. Making & breaking contracts makes it tough to commit. Phones are a must, but do we want it all?

Stay tuned to our new internet, faster, simpler and easy next week. Posts will resume, then.

Birthday's Best

Well another birthday has come and gone. It was a good day, with lots of well wishers via phone, Facebook, mail and in person. Allan gave me a sleek new camera small enough to pack around 24/7. Thank you. A Bonus Birthday.

Thinking back to other birthdays I remember ones such as:
One year I awoke up at 4:30 to watch the sunrise from a lounge chair on the back lawn. A Beat the Sun Birthday.

I got a brand new Schwinn two wheeler for my twelfth birthday. We were inseparable for years until it wore out. At sixteen a bright red Wilson tennis racket was waiting for me. I gave it to the grandkids last year. A Biking Birthday.

For my twentieth birthday brother, Jim, gave me some ice skates. I still have them, but the padded lining has turned hard and powdery. Smiley face drinking glasses showed up about the same time, thanks to a good friend. A Bought Stuff Birthday.

At twenty-one I got an engaged. The ring was hidden in the glove box. We got married in September. A Big Future Birthday.

Ten years ago I tried roller blading and broke my wrist. Later that day the car broke down and we had to hitch a ride home after seeing the movie, Mulan. We spent all evening in the ER. A Bummer Birthday.

I'm lucky enough to have a good weather birthdate. Except for about five years ago when it rained all day, most have been - Balmy with Blue Skies Birthdays.

When my birthday was on Sunday several years ago, there was no hiking, biking or shopping. I was able to nap and gave a lesson at church. A Behave Yourself Birthday.

Sometimes I have tried to cram so much into this one day, it would bomb and I regretted doing so. I've had several Bombed Birthdays.

Allan reminded me I was as old as he is now. Prior to that, I was excited for the 'Big' day. In the words of Tiny Tim, "Happy Birthday, Everyone!"

Gals Gabbing

A group of my high school friends got together for lunch this week. A few of the gals hadn't seen one another since graduation. What fun we had reminicsing about old times, jobs, marital status, grandkids and such. Some of us went to elementary school together and go way back. We laughed about and tried to remember some the antics that occurred. Who says you are at a loss of what to say. We talked about old flames, the haunted bathroom, teachers sneaking Coke in the closet and much more.

I pulled out the ole camera and snapped a few pictures. Some of us look the same, others better and yet, who cares. We teased the oldest that will be sixty this year, glad we are the youngest of the group. Call your friends and set a date to gab with the gals.

It's About (Ant) Time

"The ants march in the ants march out,
The ants march up and about your snout."

Do you remember singing this familiar song while marching around with childhood friends on ant and insect hunts?

With a late spring and cool temperatures the ants have stayed, underground or where ever it is they stay, until warm weather brings them outdoors. Ant swarms dot my sidewalk. Both large swarms of them and small piles of sand show their spring house cleaning has begun.

Usually the ants come indoors for a few weeks mid-spring, until it is consistantly warm enough to gather food outside. Perhaps their winter stores are depleted and our homes are a perfect emergency '72 hour kit' with plenty of food and to spare. No matter what I do they usually are found running bootleg from my kitchen to infinity and beyond. Or at work my lunch bag, left on the floor, has been invaded by these six legged "what's yours is mine" creatures.

It may take a while before we notice one ambitious ant first, then a trail of them trying to pack away the kitchen sink. Soon we realize they are back in force. No amount of sweeping, mopping or tidying will hamper their wagon train toting off whatever they like. Vacuum often or you'll discover they are even in your carpet under Dad's favorite chair, gathering crumbs from last nights snacks.

Can you imagine their conversations, "What a haul at the house on the corner." "Tell your family it is a smorgasboard." "We have hit the mother lode in that room!" All the while we are oblivious to them 'marching in, out and about."

Keep an eye out for them, because they will be back, sooner or later!

Rainbows Redefined

It had been a stormy afternoon until about 3pm, when a full rainbow presented itself out of my picture window at work. One of those big ones you seldom see, that takes your breath away and you stop to contemplate its beauty. Two hours later I was rushing to my mother's bedside at the hospital. She died a few days later, and the rainbow has become a significant memory of that event.

This weekend another full rainbow was visible as we drove east to the freeway from visiting Antelope Island. Even though I am dealing with her death fairly well, rainbows, singing some hymns and such can really set me off.

Putting flowers on her grave as well as some plastic memorial bunches we found in her home, made for a colorful decoration. The death date has been carved in her headstone. We are moving forward with estate matters. Blogging has been more difficult. The desire will return, but it all takes time.

He’s a Handyman Hero.

Part of my duel exhaust car muffler rotted off about a year ago. My ears became deaf to the rumbling sound, shortly thereafter. I promised the mechanic when it was inspected to replace it, but didn’t. Last month Allan & Kent (his brother) tackled the job. Welding wasn’t an option, when the rust holes were larger than the muffler itself. A new one was installed.

That was about the time whenever I applied pressure to the brakes, a noise like an ‘airplane landing above my head’ belched forth from the car. Could it be the pads, I asked Al. “What sound, I can’t hear anything,” he replied. Eventually, other drivers looked for the airport as we approached intersections and Allan decided, to take a look at the brakes. Sure enough, with much patience and pressure both rear wheel pads were replaced.

The final straw was our fence collapsing from a powerful wind. He dutifully took apart the fence, neatly stacking the slats in a pile. Next up: preparing to dig out the sheered-off posts, replace and stain them back into duty.

Bane of the Bur Buttercup

Bur Buttercup is a noxious weed. Less than five years ago Allan pointed out some scraggly, bitty plants growing along the roadside, identified it as Bur Buttercup and said to watch out for it! This year it is everywhere along previously barren parkstrips, fields, and roadways. Every spot of ground has become it's new home, as this prickly burred plant agressively muscles its way onto our lands.

Each morning while out jogging, I fill a grocery bag or two with the pesky vermin and toss in the trash. An Army corp of volunteers is needed to turn the tide as this 'Missouri River' epidemic weed is on the verge of taking over.

"Fabian Menalled -Bur buttercup (Ranunculus testiculatus) is an exotic annual weed, native of southestern Europe that has become widespread in gardens, small grains, pastures, wastes areas, and along roadsides in the western USA. It is a winter annual that emerges, flowers, and sets fruits in the spring, when temperatures climb into the 45 to 50-degree range. It is a toxic species because it contains ranunculin, a chemical that changes into to protoanemonin, a highly toxic compound. The transformation of ranunculin into protoanemonin occurs when the plant is crushed. There are reports of sheep poisoning after ingesting bur buttercup.

It is important to control bur buttercup before they produce flowers and seeds. Hoeing, pulling and digging can control bur buttercup. They can be sprayed with 2,4-D, Ally, Banvel, Banvel + 2,4D, Finale, Liberty, or Roundup.

Categories: Weed, Bur Buttercup Date: 04/14/2005 go to MSU.montana.edu for more."
Saddest of all, who has even noticed the blight right under their feet? Ask most homeowners about Bur Buttercup and they won't know what you are talking about.

Please grab a bag, sprayer with 2, 4D or a hoe and get out there now before it is too late. It may already be!