Sher-endipity . . .

Just Stay Little

2011-10-21T14:46:00.002-06:00

Last Rose of Summer

2011-10-04T13:14:00.000-06:00

Taken Oct. 4, 2011

Amazing how nature never fails to produce miracles.

Especially since my garden was badly neglected this year!

Parenting Lessons

2011-10-04T12:24:00.001-06:00

"Parenting lesson for the day: if you feel strongly about providing opportunities for your kids to make choices, you sometimes have to be okay when they come home with a Dora backpack." Chris Miller

My grand nephew Henry struggles with autonomy!

He finally wins, but doesn't look too happy about it.

Meanwhile, brother Finn enjoys making himself an afternoon snack.

Too funny not to share.

9-11-11

2011-09-11T12:22:00.000-06:00

“The best way to destroy an enemy is to make him a friend.” Abraham Lincoln

God Bless America

Happy Birthday to Me! {Yesterday}

2011-09-10T13:29:00.003-06:00

Dear me. Where did the years go?

9-9-49 ~^~ 9-9-011

Today you are one day older than yesterday and a day younger than tomorrow
and that only makes a difference if you're a banana!

Truisms by Women

2011-07-18T10:37:00.001-06:00

~Inside every older lady is a younger lady -- wondering, "What the hell happened"?~
~Cora Harvey Armstrong~

~Inside me lives a skinny woman crying to get out. But I can usually shut her up with cookies.~

[Anonymous. However, I think I've said this a million times!]

~ The hardest years in life are those between ten and seventy. ~
~Helen Hayes (at 73)~

~I refuse to think of them as chin hairs. I think of them as stray eyebrows. ~
~Janette Barber~

~Things are going to get a lot worse before they get worse. ~
~Lily Tomlin~

~A male gynecologist is like an auto mechanic who never owned a car.~

~Carrie Snow~

~Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry with your girlfriends.~
~Laurie Kuslansky~

~My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being, hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint. ~
~Erma Bombeck~

~ Old age ain't no place for sissies. ~
~Bette Davis~

~A man's got to do what a man's got to do. A woman must do what he can't. ~
~Rhonda Hansome ~

~The phrase "working mother" is redundant. ~
~Jane Sellman~

~Every time I close the door on reality, it comes in through the windows.~
~Jennifer Unlimited~

~Whatever women must do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult. ~
~Charlotte Whitton~

~Thirty-five is when you finally get your head together and your body starts falling apart.~
~Caryn Leschen~

~I try to take one day at a time -- but sometimes several days attack me at once.~
~Jennifer Unlimited~

~If you can't be a good example -- then you'll just have to be a horrible warning. ~
~Catherine~

~When I was young, I was put in a school for retarded kids for two years before they realized I actually had a hearing loss. And they called ME slow! ~
~Kathy Buckley~

~I'm not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I'm not dumb -- and I'm also not blonde. ~
~Dolly Parton~

~ If high heels were so wonderful, men would be wearing them. ~
~Sue Grafton ~

~I'm not going to vacuum 'til Sears makes one you can ride on. ~
~Roseanne Barr~

~When women are depressed they either eat or go shopping. Men invade another country.~
~Elayne Boosler~

~Behind every successful man is a surprised woman. ~
~Maryon Pearson~

~In politics, if you want anything said, ask a man. If you want anything done, ask a woman.~

~Margaret Thatcher~

~I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career. ~
~Gloria Steinem~

~I am a marvelous housekeeper. Every time I leave a man, I keep his house. ~
~Zsa Zsa Gabor~

~Nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission.~

~Eleanor Roosevelt~

~Ask a man to do a task - he'll hire six men, call a conference, call for pizza, go to Home Depot for tools and equipment, then take a week to complete the "project".

Ask a woman to do the same task and she'll have the drain unclogged in half an hour.~

~Sheri Slaughter~

I'm Bacccckkkkk. . . . . .

2011-07-14T13:48:00.001-06:00

I'm glad to announce I have a new hard drive AND I found a CD with a back-up of my files from February 2010, so not all is lost. It restored 4237 photographs. Hallelujah. It restored my genealogy, WORD and Excel files (of course without the data I had added in the past year). I'm a happy camper again.

Now if I could get the rest of my life in order, I'd be truly happy.

Miracles do happen. We just have to appreciate the little miracles each day, like the dew on roses.

2011-05-15T17:53:00.000-06:00

I once had a wonderful hard drive in a very cute little laptop. It stored all my genealogy files and thousands of photographs, all neatly organized and labeled. One day I was on my bed with my laptop on my lap. Isn't that what they are made for--lazy computing? Apparently not. Suddenly, years of work slipped from my lumpy lap to the floor and the rest is history.

Good-bye to blogging until I can afford to get a new hard drive. Hopefully, there is some one out there who can restore some of my files. PLEEEEAAASSSSSEEEE!!!

2011-04-07T16:06:00.001-06:00

Today I was going to write a blog about procrastination, but I think I'll to do it tomorrow. . . .or maybe next week.

Great News in Twos

2011-03-26T13:20:00.011-06:00

I'm excited to have two new grand nephews, both born on March 21, 2011, both born to mothers named Heather, both babies were named Zachary!

The Happy Family

One of the Heathers (my niece) on the left and

one of the Zacharys (in the car seat)

The Other Happy Family

Nephew Brad and his wife, the other Heather and

their primy, the other Zachary

Our second wee Zachary ~ Look at all the hair

In a week of health scares (see previous post), we also received GOOD NEWS in twos about these beloved babies joining our family.

The Dreaded Phone Call

2011-03-26T12:24:00.003-06:00

It was the phone call every woman dreads. I got it on Wednesday. My cell rang and I didn't recognize the number. I answered anyway.

"Mrs. Slaughter? This is the Intermountain Breast Care Center. . ."

Gulp. I didn't breathe for a minute and don't think I heard her next statement clearly.

"The radiologist found a spot on your mammogram. We need you to come in again. Can you be here Friday at 4:15."

"A. .a. . .a. . .", I stuttered. "Sure. I mean, okay, what time." I really hadn't heard what she said.

I had never expected a call-back. I've had at least fifteen mammograms and all had been completely normal. But then again, my maternal grandmother died of breast cancer when she was fifty-nine and I'm sixty-one.

For two days, I created every terrible scenarios in my head. Do I go for the mastectomy like my grandmother? What about reconstruction surgery? Will I lose my hair from the radiation? Will I be vomiting my guts out every day? Should I make my will? I've got to clean my house. Should I be buried like most my family or cremated like my sister?

Stupid, right? But that's how my mind works. It always darts off in the direction of the worst possible situations.

To make a long story short, I went yesterday to the IHC Breast Care Center, had more mammograms in which the spot miraculously DID NOT reappear! Phew! Dodged the bullet.

Faith is believing the best will happen. That what God has in store for you is what needs to happen to help you learn and grow. I know that in my heart. But my mind is a different matter. I have not trained it to believe in good outcomes.

.....................

Unbelievably, my husband also had a "C" scare this week. He's been sick for weeks with what the Doctor called prostatitis. It has many causes, one of them being cancer. He had a CT scan yesterday and also got the ALL CLEAR. His cause is probably from riding his bicycle in 100-200 miles races.

We were both very lucky (blessed) on the same day. It was my husband's birthday, by the way.

Other women in the Breast Care Center yesterday were not as lucky. They left in tears.

Other men in radiology at the hospital were not as lucky yesterday.

I salute all you women and men out there who have had the dreaded phone call, have learned the worst and WHO HAVE SURVIVED!

A Teacher's Influence

2011-03-17T20:18:00.004-06:00

President Obama said this week that any budget that sacrifices a commitment to education is a budget that sacrifices our future.

Education in our country is in a real crisis right now. The cuts in the House Republican budget to education would be devastating for teachers, students, and families -- costing 55,000 jobs, slashing financial aid for 8 million college kids, and dropping hundreds of thousands from Head Start, an early-education program proven to help low-income children graduate high school.

While I was driving to the doctor yesterday, I listened to an NPR program which addressed some of problems with education in the United States. The commentator posed the following question to his guest and to the listening audience:

Who made a difference in your life?

The discussion, of course, was referring to teachers, counselors, coaches and mentors. It was suggested that most people can't think of three teachers who made a difference in their lives, that there a lot of really bad teachers out there.

I started thinking. There are many really great teachers, also. (Example, see my previous post.)

Unfortunately, I can barely think of the names of my teachers, let alone remember anything they taught me. But I kept thinking, even as the ENT doctor squirted purple dye in my infected ear.

Who WAS the first teacher whose influence I remember? There's no contest, I recall his name without a hitch.

Crestview Elementary - Sixth Grade - 1961

Teacher - Gary Elliott (on the left) - I'm the shy one (NOT). Second from the left, front row

Halfway through the sixth grade I was transferred to a brand new school closer to my home. My teacher, Mr. Elliott, was my first male teacher and I was instantly smitten. Seriously. He had dreamy blue eyes and the cutest smile.

He liked me, too. He sent me on errands, let me take the roll, and even correct spelling tests. (I obviously needed to stay busy. Did I have ADHD? My son certainly did.) Mr. Elliott gave me confidence in myself, because he trusted me and knew I was capable. He saw that I loved math (arithmetic) and was good at it. I'd finish the assignments quickly, so he decided to gave me algebra problems to keep me occupied. It was great fun.

Kids called me "Teacher's Pet" and I was sure I was. I don't think I've ever felt so good about myself.

Thinking back on it now, Mr. Elliott had a gift. He was a wonderful teacher who made ALL kids feel important. We knew he cared about us. That was so much more important than the subjects he taught us.

Thank you for loving children, Mr. Elliott!

Junior High is a complete blur to me. I only remember two teachers' names and NOT for good reasons.

Gym class. Taking showers. Undressing and dressing in front of everyone. Very traumatic. In the showers, our teacher would check us individually (made us take off the towel--yikes) to see if we were wet all over. Even at thirteen I knew that was weird. Creepy.

My history teacher used to talk about Jayne Mansfield, Roslyn Russell and Marilyn Monroe all the time. He said all the girls in our class only cared about boys and we all wanted to grow-up to be like Mansfield to get boyfriends. We didn't know who or what he was talking about. (My older sister told me it was about Big Boobs and that our teacher was nasty.) Totally creepy.

I had better luck in High School. This is my tribute to four teachers who made BIG differences in my life. The rest of the teachers. . .sorry, I don't recollect your names.

Mr. Minson was another teacher with killer looks. He made biology fun. Along with his wit and charm, he was intelligent. He challenged us. At the end of the year, he wrote in my yearbook that I was his most challenging student! He said I was extremely intelligent and hoped I would use it to the benefit of mankind. Wow, there's a challenge. He made it possible for me to get an A in my college biology class.

Did I become a scientist? No, but my teacher made me feel I could if I wanted to.

Thank you for showing me science is cool, Mr. Minson!

I only took drama for half a year from Holly Smith. At first, I was timid (moi?) while doing improv or plays in front of the class, but Mrs. Smith saw something in me that I didn't know was there. She helped me bloom. Because of her, I received a First Place in the district Drama Contest for my humorous reading from Tom Sawyer. Holly made winners of everyone she taught.

Thank you for helping me have confidence, Mrs. Smith!

Another Smith teacher, this time Clyde Smith, taught me to draw. Or rather, he made me realize I had the ability to observe and render. I enjoyed his class more than any other. Sketching was "down" time to me. Did I ever use my art? No, but I think have applied creativity in other ways.

Thank you for helping me observe, Mr. Smith!

My senior year I was a student body officer. Pat Farrell was new at Olympus and took the place of a very beloved SBO advisor, Sanky Dixon. We cried when we heard Sanky was retiring and wasn't going to advise us. But Pat (or Mrs. Farrell when other teachers were around) instantly became one of us, one with us. She made our tasks seem like play. She wrote in my yearbook, "Sheri, I have never met anyone so alive, so aware as you. People always know where they stand . . .You are the most capable person I've met. . .You will be a success at anything you do." I know she said the same thing to the other officers, but it didn't matter. She believed in me. It brings a tear to my eye now, because we never had a relationship after June 1967.

Thank you, Pat, for treating us like

adults and for letting us be kids!

It all went downhill in college where professors didn't know my name, let alone my thoughts, feelings and ideas. I was lost in the crowds.

However, because I had interests in many diverse areas, I decided to major in Child Development with my eye on teaching preschool children (my favorite age). Preschool incorporates all fields of knowledge. In those tender, early years when each experience is brand new, children are sponges and want to learn everything. They have so much to teach adults about discovery and living life to the fullest.

Why can't learning be this fun our whole life?

Teaching takes so much energy and creativity that good teachers burn out far too soon. They deserve far more credit and money than our society gives them. Teachers are the builders of the future, trite as it sounds. I have nothing but admiration for them. Pat a teacher on the back today.

What teacher influenced you?

Who You Are Makes a Difference

2011-03-14T13:12:00.000-06:00

Stage Fright

2011-03-11T13:35:00.003-07:00

In my earlier years, I used to speak in public fairly often. I was confident, almost brash. I felt I had important things to say and didn't worry too much about what the audience thought of me. I very seldom experienced pure STAGE FRIGHT.

However, over the years my confidence has waned. But I still have things I want to communicate. I still have a voice, opinions, feelings. I am constantly writing stories, poetry and essays in my head and I have two blogs in which to articulate. Nevertheless, I am struck powerless due to Internet STAGE FRIGHT.

I'm unable to put words to page. I tremble as I open my blog. As my words go out onto the Internet, I am panicked by what unknown people might think of me. Me, a sixty-one-year-old, inconsequential woman. Who could possibly care what I think? And what does it matter anyway?

Guilt-ridden, feeling I must take part in the world of cyper-space, I re-design my blog spot (again), but fear writing the things in my head and my heart.

As my speech teacher once said, "Imagine the worst thing that could happen to you".

I had a long list of "worst" scenarios which might occur during public speaking.

I could stand there forever frozen without uttering a word.
I could stammer and stutter like Bertie (King Georg VI).
I might forget to button my blouse.
The audience might boo and hiss.
I might breakout in a rash or a cold sweat.
My carefully coiffed hair might suddenly collapse.
I might get the hick-ups. . . .or worst of all
I might throw-up on the podium.

The list goes on and on. None of these things ever happened when I spoke in public (other than sweating). And while my audiences were probably critical privately, I was never publicly lynched. No one heckled. There were no rotten tomatoes thrown at me.

Yet I am terrified of blogging, more than I could ever be of speaking. There I said it.

So what is the worse thing that could possibly happen to me if I post my thoughts on a blog?

I might make spellings or typing errors.
I might make grammatical errors.
I might offend someone I don't know and will never see.
No one will read it. No one will comment.

Yet all I have to fear is fear itself. (I think someone famous said that.)

I realize my faults and follies. I am not the sharpest stick in the woods. But I am sometimes astute and even at my advanced age can make valid observations about my world.

The Internet does not NEED me. However, I need it. I need to read, write and record. I've never kept a diary. My loss. As my memory gets foggy, it would be nice to have records of past deeds. My hundreds (thousands?) of photographs are not dated or annotated. My loss again.

I will strive to do better. To write a better blog. To log my history. To conquer the blog-o-sphere!

Thank you, Thank you

2011-02-25T14:04:00.000-07:00

Dear Blogspot,
I'm sooo delirious and giddy. Finally you have some decent FONTS. I was getting so tired of the stale old ones. You have made my day. Tee Hee, Tee Hee. (Doesn't take much to make me ecstatic.)

I took a computer design class once- - -really, I did- - -and learned that you shouldn't use more than two fonts on a page. But it is so much fun to play with fonts.

Look for more changes on this page in the future and I get just the right look (for the moment). I'm very fickle.

A happy camper,
Sheri

2010 Women Drivers Awards

2011-02-23T15:06:00.013-07:00

10th Place Goes to:

9th Place Goes to:

8th Place Goes to:

7th Place Goes to:

6th Place Goes to:

5th Place Goes to:

4th Place Goes to:

Not only a woman, but a WOMAN COP in all her official capacity!!

The BRONZE Medal Goes to:

The SILVER Medal Goes to:

YES - her helmet is worn backwards

And finally, here is the 2010 Women Drivers Award

***GOLD Medal Winner***

CONGRATULATIONS ! !

This concludes the 2010 Women Drivers Awards Ceremony.

Thanks to all our contestants for giving us all a reason to laugh & smile.

Just Breathe

2011-02-05T10:53:00.001-07:00

The following post is dedicated to

Marie Louise Adams Henrie Fuertes 1976 ~ 2011

and

Christopher R. Thomas 1973 ~ 2011

Two young people gone long before their time.

Gone on different days, for different reasons.

Friends of my kids.

JUST BREATHE

Yes, I understand that every life must end, uh-huh,

As we sit alone, I know someday we must go, uh-huh,

Oh I'm a lucky man, to count on both hands

the ones I love,

Some folks just have one,

yeah, others, they've got none, uh-huh

Stay with me, Let's just breathe.

Practiced are my sins,

never gonna let me win, uh-huh,

Under everything, just another human being, uh-huh,

Yeh, I don't wanna hurt, there's so much in this world

to make me bleed.

Stay with me,

You're all I see.

Did I say that I need you?

Did I say that I want you?

Oh, if I didn't I'm a fool you see. . .

No one knows this more than me.

As I come clean.

I wonder everyday

as I look upon your face, uh-huh,

Everything you gave

And nothing you would take, uh-huh,

Nothing you would take

Everything you gave...

Did I say that I need you?

Oh, did I say that I want you?

Oh, if I didn't I'm a fool you see,

No one knows this more than me.

As I come clean, ah-ah...

Nothing you would take,..

Everything you gave.

Love you till I die,..

Meet you on the other side.

This touching comment was left on YouTube after the above song:

"i'm 92 years of age and i try to keep up with the younger generation but when i found this song i cried because it reminds me of my wife who passed away 6 years ago at the age of 89 we had been together for 59 years this song just warms my heart. hope your happy in heaven Ann.... I love you so much.... "

I like to dress comfortably

2011-02-04T13:23:00.002-07:00

The boy was new to my Primary class of nine-year-olds. He didn't say much, but continued staring at me throughout the lesson. Finally, at an inappropriate moment, he said, "Are you wearing your pajamas?"

[NOTE: I usually wear a peasant blouse and skirt to church to cover my rolls of fat--no tailored, fitted clothes for my big body.]

Gute Fersommling

2011-02-02T13:38:00.003-07:00

Groundhog (Marmota monax)

When we were children, my father always told us that if it's sunny on February 2, the groundhog would see his shadow, run back to his hole and we'd have six more weeks of winter. Then he'd say, "If it's cloudy, he comes out of his hole and we still have six more weeks of winter." I didn't always understand my father's humor as a child. He had a way of twisting axioms and idioms that were lost on children.

Whatever he meant, I always knew when February 2 rolled around we were headed for warmer, longer days and that was a good thing.

But who knew that February 2 has been celebrated for centuries for other reasons. I didn't.

Actually Groundhog Day grew out of the Pennsylvania Dutch custom of Fersommling, a social event in which food is served, speeches are made and one or more g'spiel (play) is performed . This event is typically attended by the Fancy Dutch as opposed to the "Plain sects" of the Amish, Dunkards and Mennonites. Only German or Deutsch is spoken and those speaking English pay a penalty, usually a nickel, dime or quarter, per word spoken, put into a bowl in the center of the table.

But the Pennsylvania tradition grew out of the ancient European weather lore where a badger was the prognosticator. The holiday also bears some similarities to the medieval Catholic holiday of Candlemas (February 2) and it also bears similarities to the Pagan festival of Imbolc, the seasonal turning point of the Celtic calendar, which is celebrated on February 1 and involves weather prognostication.

In the Catholic church, Candlemas day was the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple, one of twelve great feast days. In the Eastern and Western liturgical calendars the Presentation of the Lord falls on February 2, thirty-nine days after Christmas.

In the Church of England, the Presentation of Christ in the Temple is a Principal Feast celebrated either on 2 February or on the Sunday between 28 January and 3 February.

Presentation of Christ at the Temple

Painting by Holbein the Elder, c. 1500

In Scotland, the tradition of Groundhog's day may derive from the following poem:

As the light grows longer

The cold grows stronger

If Candlemas be fair and bright

Winter will have another flight

If Candlemas be cloud and rain

Winter will be gone and not come again

A farmer should on Candlemas day

Have half his corn and half his hay

On Candlemas day if thorns hang a drop

You can be sure of a good pea crop

When I think of Groundhog Day, I don't think of the rodent, but of the 1993 Bill Murray movie where he is stuck in the same day, repeating it over and over again until he finally gets it right.

I have often felt like Phil Connors in the film. Sometimes it seems I do the same things over and over and over, but never get the results I want. Sometimes, I wish I'd wake up and everything would be different---that all the old problems and baggage would just go away. That I'd be a new person in a different scenerio, without any effort on my part.

Each time Phil awakes and it is Feb. 2 again, he tries to ignore or avoid the troubles he had yesterday (also Feb. 2). But avoiding his challenges only creates worse problems. It is not until Phil wakes up and realizes it is he who needs to change that things start to get better for him. He helps people, learns to play the piano, does his job, cleans up his act.

The only effective change comes from within ourselves. We can't change others. We can't change the world. We can only change ourselves and how we interact with the world around us.

Like Phil we must let go of the past which keeps us bound in sorrow, inaction or bitterness. We must embrace each day as if it were the first day of our life.

May each day bring new laughter, love, enlightenment. It is the only way we grew.

I hope I get it right someday.

Still Hibernating

2011-02-01T11:44:00.002-07:00

It's February 1st and 16 degrees where I live. Sorry, I'm still in hibernation and I'm usually a bear when I wake up. Do not disturb until the temperature is in the 40s. Thanks.

Please do not wake me.

Stone of Destiny

2011-01-26T18:23:00.004-07:00

Christmas morning 1950, four brash and idealistic Scottish college students sneaked into Westminster Abbey during the wee-hours and stole the ancient Stone of Scone. The ringleader of the heist, Ian Hamilton QC, now eighty-five, was a Scottish Nationalist and at twenty-five was studying law at Glasgow University.

Though perceived at the time as a student prank, Ian always tried to make clear that he did it with political motivations. The Stone, at 26 inches in length and weighing a hefty 336 pounds, was not the sort of thing to smuggle out under your coat! It took a great deal of plotting in Glasgow pubs over pints of beer and more than a little good luck to pull off the scheme.

Was it destiny to recover the Stone of Destiny?

The Coronation Chair in Westminster Abbey

Ian Hamilton calmly acknowledges, the moment of no return. ''You sort of know that when you take a crowbar to a side door of Westminster Abbey and jemmy the lock that there isn't really any going back, don't you?'' he said philosophically in a 2008 interview. ''Not when you know that the next thing you are going to do is steal one of the ancient relics inside.''

Ian Hamilton, QC

An eminent Scottish lawyer, Ian Hamilton, who rose to be a Queen's Counsel, and who retired only five years ago, is a shrewd man. One who could easily be mistaken for a pillar of the establishment. But then, appearances can be deceptive. He urgently reminds listeners, ''that it was not stealing. It was a liberation. A returning of a venerable relic to its rightful ownership.''

In 1296 the troops of King Edward I of England, raided Scone Abbey in Perthshire, Scotland. They were searching for the Stone of Scone, a symbol of Scots’ sovereignty, the coronation seat of Scottish kings for centuries. Now that was stealing.

Edward took a personal interest in relics and symbols of nationhood. When he conquered Wales in 1282-3, Edward had the ‘crown of King Arthur’ and other Welsh treasures to be sent to Westminster in London.

Edward had a special chair built to house the Stone in Westminster Abbey. The Coronation Chair, also called St Edward's Chair or King Edward's Chair, was named for Edward the Confessor. A carpenter called ‘Master Walter’ carved the chair from fine English oak. He was paid 100 shillings.

For hundreds of years, kings and queens of England and later Britain have been crowned on the Coronation Chair, sitting above the Coronation Stone. From 1296 to 1950, the Scottish Stone was ensconced at Westminster Abbey.

The fumbles and follies of that fateful Christmas theft are portrayed in the 2008 movie Stone of Destiny in which Ian Hamilton had a cameo role. Amid the many problems and tense moments during the robbery, the Stone broke along an old crack.

We watched the film on Netflex last evening (while the Jazz were being tromped by the Lakers) and thoroughly enjoyed it (not the tromping but the flick).

Westminster Abbey ~ November 2008

The movie opened in October 2008, just two months before I visited Westminster Abbey for Evensong on November 2. At the time, I was unaware of the film or the significance of the Stone of Scone.

The rest of the story: After hiding the larger chunk of the stone in Kent, England for a few days, the conspirators risked the road blocks on the border (the first time in 400 years) and returned to Scotland with the piece, which they had hidden in the back of a borrowed car. The smaller piece was similarly brought north a little while later. Once in Glasgow, the Stone was then passed to a senior Glasgow politician who arranged for it to be professionally repaired by stonemason Robert Gray.

The return of the Stone to Scotland brought great national pride with celebrations throughout the country.

A major search was carried out by the British Government which proved unsuccessful. Finally in April 1951, the stone's custodians left it at on the altar at Arbroath Abbey for the safekeeping of the Church of Scotland. Of course, when the police learned of its whereabouts, they retrieved the Stone and returned it to London. The students were charged and stood trial for their crime, but never served time.

In 1996, in a symbolic response to growing dissatisfaction among Scots at the prevailing constitutional settlement, the British Conservative Government decided that the Stone should be kept in Scotland when not in use at coronations. On 3 July 1996 it was announced in the House of Commons that the Stone would be returned to Scotland, and on 15 November 1996, after a handover ceremony at the border between representatives of the Home Office and of the Scottish Office, it was transported to Edinburgh Castle where it remains today. (Hurray!)

When there is a future coronation (Charles? William?) provisions will be made to transport the stone to Westminster Abbey for the ceremony and then returned to its rightful home in Scotland.

Note sub title warning: If you watch the movie, you may want have the dialogue at the bottom of the screen, as some of the Scottish brogues are very thick.

It's a Beautiful World

2011-01-24T18:39:00.001-07:00

Today I discovered a wonderful Plog (picture blog) posted on Denverpost.com which shares incredible historical photography. I was especially transfixed by the pre-World War I color photographs from Russia. Since I will probably never visit Russia and obviously I will never visit the early 1900s in person, I am grateful to visit the country and the time through these amazing photos.

The photographs of Russian chemist and photographer, Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii, show Russia on the eve of World War I and the coming of the revolution. From 1909-1912 and again in 1915, Prokudin-Gorskii travelled across the Russian Empire, documenting life, landscapes and the work of Russain people. His images were to be a photographic survey of the time.

He travelled in a special train car transformed into a dark room to process his special process of creating color images, a technology that was in its infancy in the early 1900’s. Prokudin-Gorskii left Russia in 1918, after the Russian Revolution had destroyed the Empire he spent years documenting. To learn more about the Prokudin-Gorskii, the process he used to create the color photographs, and see his collection, you can visit the Library of Congress, who purchased his glass negatives in 1948 after his death in 1944.

Here is a sampling of what you will find. Enjoy.

Peasant girls, Russian Empire. Three young women offer berries to visitors to their izba, a traditional wooden house, in a rural area along the Sheksna River, near the town of Kirillov; 1909 Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii Collection (Library of Congress).

Mills in Ialutorovsk district of Tobolsk Province; 1912 Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii Collection (Library of Congress).

Alim Khan, Emir of Bukhara, seated holding sword; between 1905 and 1915 Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii Collection (Library of Congress).

Old church of Saint Nicholas the Wonder Worker, Nyrob; 1910 Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii Collection (Library of Congress).

Group of workers harvesting tea. Greek women, Chakva; between 1905 and 1915 Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii Collection (Library of Congress).

Altar side of the Dmitrievskii Cathedral, Vladimir; 1911 Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii Collection (Library of Congress).

Isfandiyar, Khan of the Russian protectorate of Khorezm (Khiva), full-length portrait, in uniform, seated on chair, outdoors; between 1910 and 1915 Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii Collection (Library of Congress).

Dagestani types, Group of women posed outdoors; between 1905 and 1915 Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii Collection (Library of Congress).

Trans-Siberian Railway metal truss bridge on stone piers,

over the Kama River near Perm, Ural Mountains Region;

ca. 1910 Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii Collection (Library of Congress).

Thank you, Sergei Mikhailovich Prokudin-Gorskii, for documenting your world and preserving your work so it can be viewed in different land in another century.

Is there something beautiful or important you will leave to the next generation? Something that will express your world, your personality, your interests? What will you leave as your statement?

Life Handbook 2011

2011-01-16T20:36:00.001-07:00

Health:

1. Drink plenty of water.

2. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a beggar.

3. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.

4. Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm and Empathy

5. Make time to pray.

6. Play more games.

7. Read more books than you did in 2010.

8. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day.

9. Sleep for at least 7 hours a night.

10. Take a 10-30 minutes walk daily. And while you walk, smile.

Personality:

11. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

12. Don't think about negative things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.

13. Don't over do. Keep your limits.

14. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

15. Don't waste your precious energy on gossip.

16. Dream more while you are awake.

17. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

18. Forget issues of the past. Don't remind your partner with His/her mistakes of the past. That will ruin your present happiness.

19. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

20. Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.

21. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.

22. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn. Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.

23. Laugh more.

24. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

Society:

25. Call your family often.

26. Each day give something good to others.

27. Forgive everyone for everything.

28. Spend time with people over the age of 70 and under the age of 6.

29. Try to make at least three people smile each day.

30. What other people think of you is none of your business.

31. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.

Life:

32. Do the right thing!

33. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.

34. GOD heals everything.

35. However good or bad a situation is, it will change..

36. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

37. The best is yet to come.

38. When you awake alive in the morning, thank GOD for it.

39. Your Inner most is always happy. So, be happy.

[Someone probably e-mailed this to you. If so, read it again. It's good to read every day.]

It's a Fact!!

2011-01-15T17:05:00.001-07:00

The oak door at Westminster Abbey

A battered oak door at Westminster Abbey was discovered in 2005 and is the oldest known door in Britain. The door to the outer vestibule of the chapter house is thought to be the only surviving Anglo-Saxon door in the country, dating from the time of King Edward the Confessor, the founder of the Abbey, who was born in 1005. It has been dated as being 950-years-old by experts from English Heritage and the Oxford Dendrochronology Laboratory.

I'm sure the door wasn't actually discovered in 2005. Somehow I think that in 950 years, the door was probably noticed by someone. I suppose it was in 2005 when someone said, "Hey, look at this old door. I wonder how old it is. Let's take it to the Oxford Dendrochronology lab and have it tested."

Dendrochronology (or tree-ring dating for us dummies) is the scientific method of dating wood based on the analysis of patterns of tree-rings. Dendrochronology can date the time at which tree rings were formed and in many types of wood, to the exact calendar year. Now that's amazing.

Old Westminster Abbey

(the white building, mid-right of picture, behind the new Parliament building)

Photo taken Nov. 2008 from the London Eye

I'm currently reading Bill Bryson's newest tome At Home: A Short History of Private Life and the above is just one of the many curious facts of which he tells. In fact, the book is so jam-packed with peculiar trivia, I fall asleep each night with my head swimming.

For instance, did you know that in the Crystal Palace built in London's Kensington Park for the Great Exhibition in 1851, there was enough room in its airy vastness to hold four St. Paul's Cathedral? Of course, it was the world's largest building at the time. Would Queen Victoria have it any other way? Made entirely of glass supported by cast-iron girders, the palace must have been a sight to behold, to say nothing of the strange and bizarre exhibits displayed inside. At one point during the exhibition, 92,000 people were in the building.

The Crystal Palace

After the six-month exhibition, the palace was dismantled and eventually moved across the Thames to Sydenham, Surrey, where for many years it hosted concerts and other exhibitions. Sadly, its popularity declined over the years (maybe the windows got dirty?) and the building finally burnt to the ground in 1936.

As I walked through tranquil Kensington Park in 2008, it was difficult to invision what once transpired on those grounds.

Kensington Gardens, November 2008

I am a sucker for peculiar facts, which is why Bryson's book has me hooked. Can you image that in the rural county of Norfolk, there are 659 medieval churches, more per square mile than anyplace on earth! And all of them seem to be sinking into the landscape.

However, they aren't actually sinking, th land around them is being built up. Huh?In a simple country churchyard, it might appear that there are only 100 or so gravestones. This is where history gets interesting.

A country parish may have only 250 parishoners (at any one time) which translates to about 1000 adult deaths per century, plus another thousand more souls who didn't make it to maturity. Multiply that by the number of centuries the church has been standing and you'll find that instead of 100 burials, there have been probably twenty thousand or more burials. Think of all those lives underfoot. No wonder the earth around the church rises every century and the church itself seems to be sinking.

A Country Church in Norfolk

Amazing the things we don't notice and fail to understand.I'm hooked on history.What are you hooked on?

[This was originally posted on January 9th. By changing the background design (again--never satisfied), I messed up this post and unfortunately deleted the comments. I am such a ditz sometimes.]

Nature Encroaches on Man

2011-01-04T11:49:00.028-07:00

Somewhere out in the woods of Maryland, their is a very distraught mother. . .

Can you imagine coming home from work to find this tiny creature napping on your couch with your dog?

It followed the beagle home, right through the doggy door in a Maryland home.

This hit the 6 o'clock news big time!

SO cute. . .

But. . .

in other news. . .

Giant Squid invade the coast of California!

Not so cute, but very sad

At 7:34 a.m. on July 11, 2009, the residents of La Jolla, California, were rattled awake by a 4.0 magnitude earthquake. One hour later, however, things got weird. Hundreds of jumbo squid, also called Humboldt squid, washed up on shore, flapping helplessly. How did these large creatures, which can grow up to 7 feet in length and weigh up to 100 pounds, appear all of a sudden? Was it caused by the earthquake? Not so, claimed squid expert William Gilly of Stanford University’s Hopkins Marine Station, because people had found beached squid three days earlier. Since it’s unlikely that the squid would be affected by an earthquake’s seismic waves, scientists believe that the beached creatures were caused either by rapidly changing water temperatures, which could prove confusing, or the ingestion of a toxin called domoic acid that’s produced by ocean plankton. (Image: Mike Blake / Reuters)

Weird.

Also weird . . .

Blackbirds Fall From the Sky

Shortly before midnight on New Year’s Eve, as many as 5,000 red-winged blackbirds fell to the ground in Arkansas, dead. It appears they were torn from their nighttime roosts by a thunderstorm, became waterlogged, and died from exposure. "This is a well-known phenomenon," said a Cornell ornithologist.

Freaky animal mysteries.

A New Day, A New Year

2010-12-31T12:41:00.000-07:00

PLEASE take the time to view the above. It has a very special message which is for everyone. The new year starts tomorrow, but a new day starts each day. I wish you a happy today!

Christmas Passed and Past

2010-12-29T16:25:00.001-07:00

On Christmas Eve after viewing the beautiful lights and Nativity on Temple Square, we drove around looking for interestingly decorated houses. The one below was truly unbelievable. Since it is on Salt Lake's 18th Avenue, high in the foothills, I'm assuming it can be seen from outer space! Decorated with hundreds of Santa, candy canes, icicles, wreaths and reindeer, there was not a spot without lights except the driveway. Where do they keep everything come January 1st? How do they pay their electric bill in January?

Christmas morning passed quietly at our house. With no small children (i.e. grandkids), it was a mellow day. No need to arise early to tear open Christmas presents. A chilly walk in the snow up Porter's Fork in Millcreek Canyon was just the ticket to celebrate the birthday of our Savior.

What could be more beautiful on Christmas morning?

Our husky-reindeer dog loved frolicking in the snow

It was a nostalgic day, spent remembering Christmases past. Especially since Bill's sister sent us a huge box of goodies made from their mom's recipes. Gingerbread cookies, rich chocolate fudge, white-chocolate popcorn, and Bill's favorite "Nuts and Bolts" (Chex cereals, peanuts and pretzel sticks, baked with just the right touch of Worcestershire sauce). He was in seventh heaven.

The Solomon Slaughter family long ago, circa 1954

The above photo was taken when my husband, Bill, was about two-years-old. (He's much younger than I am.) Their house at the time was in Tacoma, Washington before Sgt. Slaughter was transferred to Japan. It is an unanswered mystery why both Sol and Evelyn have bandages on their foreheads. Bill thinks they were joking for the photo. I think they bumped heads under the mistletoe. Bill's sisters received dolls, of course, afterall it was the '50s. Bill got a firetruck and punching clown, typical boys' things. He has always hated clowns. I guess this was the start of the phobia.

Bill and Judy with Santa, probably 1956

Bill grew up enjoying Christmases around the globe. He was born in Panama where his career army father was stationed and Santa arrived in an army helicopter. In Japan, Bill remembers Santa coming to the base in a jeep. His Christmases were much different from mine, all of which were spent in Holladay, Utah, most of them with snow.

Sheri and JoAnn with the ZCMI Santa, probably 1952

My sister and I had our pictures taken with Santa every year from the time I was three, which means my sister was six. This went on until at twelve my sister refused. We always sat on Santa's knee at the downtown ZCMI after the Santa Claus parade. I knew he was the REAL Santa because he was the same one who rode on the sleigh in the parade. Years later, when we compared all our Santa photos, we realized it was the same man who dressed up each year and sat in the booth decorated like the North Pole at ZCMI. Yes, Virginia there is a Santa Claus!

Hope you all had a very Merry Christmas

2010-12-14T14:43:00.000-07:00

Now here's a novel idea!

Why didn't I think of this when I was teaching Preschool?

When Insults Had Class

2010-12-04T20:47:00.001-07:00

These wonderful insults are from an era before the English language got boiled down to 4-letter words:

"I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it."

"Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?"

~~Mark Twain~~

"She's the kind of woman who climbed the ladder of success - wrong by wrong."

"His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork."

~~Mae West~~

"Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go."

"He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends."

~~Oscar Wilde~~

The exchange between Churchill & Lady Astor:

She said, "If you were my husband I'd give you poison."

He said, "If you were my wife, I'd drink it."

"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire."

~~Winston Churchill~~

"I am enclosing two tickets to the first night of my new play; bring a friend...

if you have one." ~~George Bernard Shaw
to Winston Churchill

"Cannot possibly attend first night, will attend second.... if there is one."

Winston Churchill, in response.

George Bernard Shaw

A member of Parliament to Disraeli: "Sir, you will either die on the gallows or of some unspeakable disease."

"That depends, Sir," said Disraeli, "whether I embrace your policies or your mistress."

~~Benjamin Disraeli~~

"I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure."

~~Clarence Darrow~~

"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it."

~~Groucho Marx~~

"He has Van Gogh's ear for music." ~~Billy Wilder

"He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts.. . for support rather than illumination. " ~~Andrew Lang (1844-1912)

"He loves nature in spite of what it did to him." ~~Forrest Tucker

"He is not only dull himself; he is the cause of dullness in others." ~~Samuel Johnson
"I feel so miserable without you; it's almost like having you here." ~~Stephen Bishop

"He is a self-made man and worships his creator." ~~John Bright
"I've just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing trivial." ~~Irvin S. Cobb

THE ESSENCE OF CHUTZPAH

2010-12-02T13:34:00.000-07:00

A little old lady sold pretzels on a street corner for 25 cents each.

Every day a young man would leave his office building at lunch time and as he passed the pretzel stand, he would leave her a quarter, but never take a pretzel.

This went on for more than 3 years. The two of them never spoke. One day, as the young man passed the old lady's stand and left his quarter as usual, the pretzel lady spoke to him.

Without blinking an eye she said:

"They're 35 cents now."

What I did last Spring

2010-11-05T12:47:00.001-06:00

I'm a little slow getting my act together, but here is a view of what I did on my trip to Virginia in May of this year. The video includes places I visited in Loudoun County, including Leesburg, Bluemont Vineyards, the Loudoun County Farm Tour, and Lucketts Spring Antiques Fair. What a great trip.

Why dogs hate Halloween

2010-10-31T13:41:00.000-06:00

Our team Quarterback is quite small this year.

Fish take their revenge.

Oww, I have a splitting headache.

Take me to the Wizard, please.

What's for dinner?

Okay! We're having fast food tonight!

My owners are starving me. I'm down to just bones.

Yikes, that black widow has four to many legs!

Halloween's over. On to the next holiday.

Someone has a "sick" sense of humor.

I'm not sure what I am, but I'm darn cute.

Oh dear, the gators are out of the sewer again!

As Time Goes By

2010-10-04T15:51:00.083-06:00

The summer flew by and I barely noticed. I forgot to do a lot of the things I had planned.

Oops. My bad.

Sadie (my new best pal) and I just watched the world go by

Oops. I forgot to read all the works of Shakespeare!!

"How poor are they who have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees."

William Shakespeare

Oops. I forgot to climb Mount Kilimanjaro!!

Oops. I forgot to swim the English Channel!!

Oops. I forgot to lose 50 pounds!!

How can that fat woman possibly be me?

Wes (my son), Becky (my much younger, skinny friend),

and the worst picture of me ever. How brave I am to put this on my blog!

Oops. I forgot to get organized!!

Not my house, thank heavens. I guess things could be worse.

Oops and darn. I forgot to garden!!

Again, not my garden, thank goodness, but I have plenty of weeds

Oops. I forgot to learn Italian or how to play the mandolin!!

Darn. I forgot to write on my Blog!!

However, with all those things I forgot to do, I did acquire a new guilty pleasure.

I became a fan of America's Got Talent and think ten-year-old Jackie Evancho was robbed, even though I do like the winner Michael Grimm.

If you haven't heard Jackie sing, you owe it to yourself to take a few minutes and listen. She has the voice of an angel. . . .straight from heaven.

What did you forget to do this summer?

Happy 61st B-day to ME!

2010-09-09T12:36:00.004-06:00

OH, I feel so OLD.

Prop Me Up

2010-08-06T14:36:00.002-06:00

DEAR LORD, PROP US UP

Every time I am asked to pray, I think of the old fellow who always prayed, 'Lord, prop us up on our leanin' side.' After hearing him pray that prayer many times, someone asked him why he prayed that prayer so fervently.

He answered, 'Well sir, you see, it's like this.... I got an old barn out back. It's been there a long time; it's withstood a lot of weather; it's gone through a lot of storms, and it's stood for many years. It's still standing. But one day I noticed it was leaning to one side a bit.

So I went and got some pine poles and propped it up on its leaning side so it wouldn't fall.

Then I got to thinking about that and how much I was like that old barn. I've been around a long time. . .I've withstood a lot of life's storms. I've withstood a lot of bad weather in life, I've withstood a lot of hard times, and I'm still standing too. But I find myself leaning to one side from time to time, so I like to ask the Lord to prop us up on our leaning side, 'cause I figure a lot of us get to leaning at times.

Sometimes we get to leaning toward anger, leaning toward bitterness, leaning toward hatred, leaning toward cussing, leaning toward a lot of things that we shouldn't. So we need to pray, 'Lord, prop us up on our leaning side, so up on our leaning side, so we will stand straight and tall again, to glorify the Lord.''

I love old barns and taking pictures of them, so when I received a copy of the above story in an e-mail, I thought it was a perfect way to showcase my photos. Plus, it's a great story.

All of these barns are in Cache County, Utah. Some need propping more than others.

I know I need propping from time to time.

Do you?

If you need propping up. . .please watch the following video, by one of my followers. . .Maithri is an amazing, talented, young doctor in Australia who is making a BIG differnce in the world. His work with AIDs patients in Africa is inspiring. I salute him and will try to be more like him. He is filled with love and light.

Here Comes the Sun

2010-07-16T09:40:00.001-06:00

This is my new favorite version of an old favorite by two of my favorites. Enjoy.

Post Card from Our Nation's Capital

2010-05-20T15:36:00.066-06:00

Lincoln Memorial at base of Washington Monument

(Look hard and use your imagination)

Okay, it's not quite as good a photo as from my blog last Friday, but the day was overcast and I'm an amateur! (The photo I used last Friday was snatched from the Internet.)

Everyone should go to the Holocaust Museum at least once their lifetime. . . .

We must "Remember". . .

Our Capitol, the Jefferson Library of Congress Building (second dome), and the Smithsonian

This is the first time in over eight trips here that the grass on the Mall has been green!

Wish there had been sunshine.

Federal Buildings at Federal Triangle and Interesting Sculptures

Having a great time. Wish you were here!

Post Card from Loudon County

2010-05-18T15:49:00.005-06:00

Greetings from Virginia

View looking east from Bluemont Vineyards

at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains

We visited for the view of Loudon County.

These ladies were on the Sunday wine tasting tour.

Loudon County is Virginia's wine country.

Looking back up the hill (a mountain by Virginian's standards) at the Bluemont Vineyards

Great Country Farms are kid friendly . . . .

Where even the kids' train is painted like cows!

Summertime swimming hole?

Everything is green and lush in May.

Kids can learn to play chess--Giant Size.

The barns are red,

the farmhouses are white,

and the peonies are HUGE.

Wish you were here.

OFF TO D.C.

2010-05-14T13:17:00.001-06:00

I'm leaving on a jet plane . . .

Don't know when I'll be back again. . .

Oh, babe, I hate to go. . .

Actually, I'll return on May 24!

Hope to post some pretty post cards.

Something To Think About . . .

2010-05-12T14:31:00.000-06:00

THE SITUATION

In Washington, D.C., at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After about 3 minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.

About 4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar. A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

At 6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

At 10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception - forced their children to move on quickly.

At 45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

After 1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.

This experiment raised several questions:

In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?
If so, do we stop to appreciate it?
Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made . . .

How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?

Forever Young

2010-05-07T14:49:00.001-06:00

An elderly couple walked into the lobby of the Mayo Clinic for check ups and spotted a piano. They have been making music together for 62 years. The man will be 90 this year. Watch and listen to this impromptu performance . . . it's brilliant and made my day.

Enjoying life is most certainly all about attitude.

Good-Bye, Best Friend (1998-2010)

2010-04-12T14:48:00.003-06:00

My best friend went to her final rest on Friday, April 9, 2010. Twelve-year-old Annie, a Labusky by breed, had suffered from a bladder tumor for six months. She is now running free, through cold mountain streams, eating a T-Bone steaks at every meal. No more baths or shavings. No more pain. No more cats! We miss her terribly. There is an empty hole in our hearts and in our home.

She answered to Annie, but we also called her Best Girl, Annie-Banannie, and Baby. We rescued her when she was three, so we don't know what she was called before that.

She was the best dog in the whole world. Kind, loyal, gentle, curious, happy and very patient. She loved life and eating--pizza was her favorite. But she also enjoyed licking out ice cream cartons and sneaking the cats' food.

Going for rides and walks were her favorite activities. And she loved coming home. She liked having the whole family around her, watching TV, while she chewed a juicy bone.

Our lives are forever changed by a yellow and white furry creature with velvet ears and doe eyes.

Rest in peace, dear friend.

(Please visit my FaceBook link to see some final videos of Annie.)

Eggs I'm Dyeing to Meet

2010-04-03T17:51:00.001-06:00

Happy Easter,

From the Old Kids on the Block

Put Your Shoes On Lucy

2010-03-25T19:29:00.012-06:00

I found this snappy little ditty accidentally on purpose. I was doing research on the Hankins family and found a famous family member--who has long been forgotten by the Boomer generation.

This is what I found out:

Renowned lyricist, singer, actress and music composer, professionally known as “Hank Fort” died January 12, 1973 in Washington, D.C. after spending the Christmas holidays with her friends, the Thomas J. Johnson family at South Point Farm in Berlin, Maryland.

Her funeral was held at Christ Church in Nashville, Tennessee with Senators John L. McClellan and Barry Goldwater among the pallbearers.

Hank composed more than 400 songs. One of her last, “Look With Pride on Our Flag”, was dedicated to President Richard Nixon and was featured during his inaugural celebration.

Her most popular songs were “Put Your Shoes On Lucy”, “I Didn’t Know the Gun Was Loaded”, "The Boardwalk", and “Cherry Blossom Spring” which was played at the 1972 Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, D.C.

She was born Eleanor Hankins on June 14, 1914 in Nashville, Tennessee. Her parents were illustrious in their own worlds. Her father was the noted artist Cornelius Hankins whose works hang in the capitol buildings in Tennessee and Louisiana and her mother was writer/artist Maude McGee Hankins.

She appeared on television on the Arthur Godfrey and Robert Q. Lewis shows. She sang at many noted Nightclubs including the Copa and was featured in movies and TV commercials.

Besides her professional career in music, she taught at the Peabody Demonstration School.

You'd be surprised how many country/western artists still sing her songs.

"Keep on putting your shoes on, Lucy, and we'll dance all night." Thanks Hank!

Tale of Two Pets

2010-03-05T02:55:00.001-07:00

Netherland Dwarf Rabbit

Our daughter was fourteen when she got her first job. She worked at Schmidt's Bakery in Trolley Square, just three blocks from our home. Aside from being able to walk to and from work, she also brought home bags of leftover donuts and sweetrolls everyday. A great perk, at first.

Of course, we all gained weight, then got sick of the sweets and began giving the treats to our neighbors who in turn got sick of them.

One day, instead of bringing home a bag of goodies, she brought home a cage with a Netherland Dwarf rabbit. She'd saved and paid for it with her own money. What could we say? Danielle announced that her new pet's name was going to be "Echo" after an obscure British post-punk band called Echo and the Bunnymen.

The deal was done and we accepted Echo into our home and eventually our hearts.

A family on the next street raised rabbits in hutches in their backyard. These were not family pets, but were fattened up to become family meals. The idea disgusted me and our animal-rights-activist daughter became determined then and there to save every animal she could.

Echo lived outside in his cage while the weather was warm. The neighborhood kids would let him out on the lawn to play and would bring him carrots and lettuce to munch on.

When the hot days of summer gave way to the rainy, cool days of fall, Echo's cage was moved inside to Danielle's bedroom. Pretty soon she and her brother,Wes, started letting Echo out in the house and he jumped joyfully from room to room. He became our house bunny and acted much like a cat.

When Echo needed to relieve himself, he would hop back to his cage lined with newspaper and kitty-litter.

Echo became a family member, joining us in the family room to watch TV and the dining room to share our meals. He would hop up onto our laps, begging to be petted.

Now I know it is hard to believe, but when Echo wanted our attention, he would hop behind the TV, grab the cord in his mouth, pull and unplug the television set! I'm certain he knew what he was doing.

Thankfully, Echo did not bother with the many cords to our desk-top computer and printer.

Remarkably, Echo could sense the needs of family members. If someone was sad or ill, he was right there to give comfort. During that time, my husband stayed up most nights into the wee hours working on a book. Echo kept him company.

One night I was stricken with a horrible gall bladder attack. I went to the family room so I wouldn't wake anyone and there I flailed on the floor in agony and dispair. Echo hopped up to my face and looked me in the eyes as if to say, "I'm here for you. You'll be okay."

Finally, at five in the morning when the pain got increasingly worse, I woke my husband to take me to the hospital. The gall bladder was removed. I survived just as Echo told me I would.

Echo was with us for many years. My daughter went away to college, but Echo stayed with us. She brought home her Swedish boyfriend who would tell Echo to "Yump up" onto the couch. To this day I can't hear of say the word jump without laughing about Stephan and Echo.

In due course, Echo died of old age. He was buried in our backyard, our family of four adults shedding tears over his grave.

About two weeks later, a gray tabby cat showed up on our doorstep and told us he was there to take Echo's place. We tried to find the owners of the cat, a neutered male who refused to leave. We named him Persistence "Persy" because of his determination to be our cat. Fourteen years later he is still with us. He is now sixteen or seventeen, old and feeble, but hanging on.

Persy

This post was inspired by one of my favorite blogs--Imagine--please read her story about an amazing dog in
England.

My Hectic Life

2010-03-03T15:10:00.000-07:00

I've been very busy this winter!

EVOLUTION

2010-02-13T12:56:00.004-07:00

Rice Paddy Art

2010-02-05T16:10:00.001-07:00

Prepare to be amazed and surprised, as I was.

Stunning crop art has sprung up across rice fields in Japan, but this is no alien creation. The designs have been cleverly planted.

In 2005, agreements between landowners allowed the creation of enormous rice paddy art.

A year later, organizers used computers to precisely plot planting of the four differently colored rice varieties that bring the images to life.

Farmers creating the huge displays use no ink or dye. Instead, different color rice plants have been precisely and strategically arranged and grown in the paddy fields.

As summer progresses and the plants shoot up, the detailed artwork begins to emerge.

A Sengoku warrior on horseback has been created from hundreds of thousands of rice plants.

Napoleon on horseback can be seen from the skies.

The farmers create the murals by planting little purple and yellow-leafed Kodaimai rice along with their local green-leafed Tsugaru, a Roman variety, to create the colored patterns in the time between planting and harvesting in September.

The murals in Inakadate cover 15,000 square meters of paddy fields.

From ground level, the designs are invisible, and viewers have to climb the mock castle tower of the village office to get a glimpse of the work.

Closer to the image, the careful placement of the thousands of rice plants in the paddy fields can be seen.

Rice-paddy art was started there in 1993 as a local revitalization project, an idea that grew from meetings of the village committees. In the first nine years, the village office workers and local farmers grew a simple design of Mount Iwaki every year.

But their ideas grew more complicated and attracted more attention.

Creativity makes WORK joyful!

How To Get Through Life

2010-01-18T14:29:00.001-07:00

Sleep as much as you can .....

Read books that you enjoy...

Play with simple things...

Do whatever you want --

Whenever you want...

Look for affection when you need it...

Get serious once in a while...

Forget about diets...

Show some affection...

Have a good cry once in awhile. . .

Allow for bad hair days. . .

Above all, be happy,

Regardless of what

Your challenges may be...

May your troubles be less,

Your blessings more,

And may nothing but happiness

Come through your door.

Sam's New Clothes

2010-01-11T15:57:00.002-07:00

Ethan and Baby Sam~~Christmas Morning 2009

In December, I dusted off my Singer sewing machine which hadn't seen the light in over eight years. My daughter's BFF's little son Ethan needed clothes for his baby Sam. I volunteered since Ethan is like a grandson.

I made-up the patterns and sewed Sam new clothes for Christmas out of old fabric scraps. Christmas morning I got a phone call. Ethan told me, "This is the best Christmas ever! Thank you, thank you. It's exactly what I wanted." It made my day. Maybe even my year.

Not only did I enjoyed a creative "craft" which I had long ago given up, I made a child happy. What is better than that?

A Happy Child is Life's Greatest Pleasure!

When I was a child, I loved to make doll clothes for my Mme Alexander doll. I sat for hours under our blossoming cherry tree in the spring and summer months with a small suitcase full of doll clothes, a bag of fabric scraps and a sewing kit. I stitched by hand, sewed on buttons and snaps, decorated with sequins and rickrack. My creations made me content.   I remember handwashing then ironing those tiny clothes. One Christmas, Santa brought me a tiny toy Singer sewing machine that actually sewed!

An article I read recently claimed that all children between seven and ten know what they want to be/do in life. They know it is the thing that will make them happiest.   If we are honest with ourselves and can remember back to age eight, we knew what we wanted to do with our lives.  Most of us go far afield and don't understand why our occupations don't satisfy us.

I don't think I'd be happy as a professional doll clothes maker. But my happiest childhood memories are of drawing pictures, writing stories or any other creative pursuit.  Time seemed to melt while I was in a "right-brain" activity. I haven't lived a creative life, much to my chagrin.

Think about your childhood for a moment. What were your favorite activities? Your favorite place to play? What was that environment like? Do your memories evoke specific sights, scents, and sounds? What did you do there? What did it look like and feel like? Did this place change along with the seasons? What sort of games did you play and what did you discover there?

What did you forget to become . . .?

I Can Do Hard Things

2010-01-09T15:47:00.000-07:00

A new year. A new motto.

Laugh When You Feel Like Crying

2010-01-08T14:44:00.001-07:00

I support President Obama one-hundred per cent and think we need to give him time to turn-around eight years of horrible executive policies. The economy needs TIME to recover and I hope, believe and dream that it will.

Yet there is the other side of the coin:

The Economy Is SOOOOO Bad....

How bad is it?

The economy is so bad that I got a pre-declined credit card in the mail.
I ordered a burger at McDonald's and the kid behind the counter asked, "Can you afford fries with that?"
CEO's are now playing miniature golf.
The economy is so bad if the bank returns your check marked "Insufficient Funds," you call them and ask if they meant you or them.
Hot Wheels and Matchbox stocks are trading higher than GM.
McDonald's is selling the 1/4 ouncer.
The economy is so bad parents in Beverly Hills fired their nannies and learned their children's names.
The economy is so bad a truckload of Americans was caught sneaking into Mexico.
Dick Cheney took his stockbroker hunting.
Motel Six won't leave the light on anymore.
The Mafia is laying off judges.
The economy is so bad Exxon-Mobil laid off 25 Congressmen.

And finally...

Congress says they are looking into this Bernard Madoff scandal. Oh Great!! The guy who made $50 Billion disappear is being investigated by the people who made $11.5 Trillion disappear!

Oh, quit groaning!

I don't write this stuff.

I receive it from my warped friends and then send it on to you.

2010 It's Official I'm a Geezer

2010-01-02T13:33:00.002-07:00

2009 was a landmark year for me.

On 09-09-09, I turned the corner into geezer-hood. I celebrated my 60th birthday and went a little "potty" (i.e. somewhat silly or crazy; addlebrained). I'm forgetful and absent-minded, grumpy, and my joints creak when I move. My mind has turned to mush and I'm not going gracefully into my golden years.

In fact, I'm just an old coot. The dictonary defines both "geezer" and "coot" as old MEN. So what I am supposed to call myself?? A hag? A crone? None of the terms sound pleasant, but then neither is aging.

AUGUST 2009--My high school class had a 60th Birthday Party in the park for us boomers who are now senior citizens. Remarkably most of the folks looked good. Some looked terrific.

My friend from Houston flew into Salt Lake for the occasion. She is tall, very skinny and extremely beautiful. We went to the party together and as we walked up to the pavilion I thought "we must look like Laurel and Hardy or Abbott and Costello" since I am as round and wrinkly as a butterball turkey. Then I thought about how the younger generation wouldn't even understand my references to the bygone comedy teams. That's when I realized I really am OLD!

The "Girls" @ Sexy? Sixty

Happy New Year!

Who'll take the son?

2009-12-08T13:48:00.000-07:00

Picasso ~~ Rose Period

Please take the time to read this; it will make your day!

The ending will surprise you.

A very wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.

When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.

He said, 'Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.' The young man held out this package. 'I know this isn't much.. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this.'

The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man.. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. 'Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift.'

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.

The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection.

On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. 'We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?'

There was silence.

Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, 'We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one.'

But the auctioneer persisted. 'Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?'

Another voice yelled angrily. . . 'We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Gogh's, the Rembrandts. Get on with the Real Bids!'
But still the auctioneer continued. 'The son! The son! Who'll take the son?'

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. 'I'll give $10 for the painting..' Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.

'We have $10, who will bid $20?

'Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters.'

The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.

The auctioneer pounded the gavel. 'Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!'

A man sitting on the second row shouted, 'Finally! Now let's get on with the collection!'

The auctioneer laid down his gavel. 'I'm sorry, the auction is over.'
'What about the famous paintings?' everyone in the audience shouted.

'I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including all the paintings.

The man who took the painting of the son gets everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: 'The son, the son, who'll take the son?

Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.

For God so loved the world,

he gave his only begottern Son

That whosoever believeth in him,

Shall have Eternal Life.

Zion is a State of Mind

2009-12-06T19:17:00.004-07:00

Psalm 87:2-3 says, “The LORD loves the gates of Zion more
than all the dwellings of Jacob. Glorious things are
said of you, O city of God.”

Zion National Park, Utah

Zion is a metaphor. In addition to its literal geographical meaning (Jerusalem), the term Zion has often been used as a metaphor for the Land of Israel, any other Promised Land, or any other distant but much wanted place or goal.

Zion stands for a Utopian place of unity, a place of peace and freedom, as opposed to Babylon, the oppressing and exploiting system of the western world and a place of evil.

In Latter-day Saint theology, a metaphoric transformation of the term Zion occurred in the modern days, originating in the United States in the 1830s. In this interpretation, Zion refers to a specific location to which members of the millennial church are to be gathered together to live.

Ancient tears on wrinkled faces

There is no question in my mind why Zion National Park was called Zion. To me, it is one of the holiest places on the face of the earth. The beauty and majesty take my breath away. In this place I feel closest to God. I feel a part of the universe, so far away from the cares of this earth. It is the place I am the happiest, at peace.

My love affair with the red rock canyons of southern Utah began in 1970, nearly forty years ago.

I was a twenty-year old student who survived in the deserts and canyons for thirty-days. The best and worst thirty days of my life. The course was called "Survival" taught by BYU. Sixty students from ages fourteen to sixty endured every hardship imaginable.

We had no high-tech boots, backpacks, light-weight clothing or dehydrated food packs. We traveled with only the basics. A blanket, a pocket-knife, a journal, heavy-leather hiking boots, one change of clothes and a jacket. Most of us wore levis and denim shirts. The temperature rose to 115 degrees in the daytime and dropped to 40 degrees at night. Occasionally it rained in torrents.

We slept under the stars (nine hundred zillion). We hiked 15 to 40 miles a day. Our blisters bled. Our muscles ached. We were hungry and thirsty most of the time. We cooked oatmeal in billy cans over open fires. We made fry bread with only flour and water. We swatted flies and mosquitoes. We drank water from the creeks. We sang and prayed and wrote in our journals. And we came home with lean, hard bodies and strong spirits. We lost ourselves in the desert in order to find ourselves.

It was a soul-searching, soul-changing experience for everyone. That's why the deserts and canyons of southern Utah are holy to me. More sacred than any church.

I had hoped to go back often to renew myself. But life happens. Jobs. Children. Obligations. Homes to clean, lawns to mow. We have taken trips over the years to Bruce NP, Zion NP, Canyon Lands NP, Capitol Reef NP, Arches NP, Cedar Breaks and Snow Canyon. We have so many awesome places in Utah. Our trips are usually too short, too hurried. But I always feel the pull, the yearning to be part of the desert.

Our recent trip touched me powerfully. Perhaps it is because as I get older, I feel the need to reconnect with my spiritual self, my real self. The "me" God wants me to be. Perhaps it is because I feel how I have fallen short and need to try harder. Zion brings out our most intense feelings.

I wish my arthritic knees and feet would allow me to. . . .go take a HIKE!

"I say fly away to Zion, fly away home...

One bright morning when my work is over,

I will fly away home..."

Rastaman Chant

Grandparents' Day at Dance Class

2009-11-19T14:51:00.004-07:00

Virginia Tanner Creative Dance Program

"The motivating force behind my work is not only developing excellent dancers, but more importantly, developing young people who are useful, imaginative, worthwhile human beings."

---Virginia Tanner---

(Watch the girl with a blond ponytail in the black skirt and top. She's so graceful!)

I have always loved watching dancers, amazed at their coordination and ability to manipulate their bodies in beautiful, creative ways. My admiration stems from my own inability. Born with two left feet and absolutely no rhythm, dancing is something I've never been able to master.

When I was five, my mother put me in a tap dance class. I loved the noise my shoes made on hard wood or tile floors. Most of all, I remember our recital when my class danced on stage to "On the Good Ship Lollipop". I remember the pink and white checked dress with the short, full skirt. My mother put my hair in ringlets and wear rouge and lipstick. I felt like Shirley Temple (though I didn't dance like her). Shuffle-Ball-Change-Shuffle-Ball-Change. That's all I remember. It was my one and only attempt at dancing.

As a child, I had two good friends who took "Creative Dance" from Virginia Tanner. I went to several of their classes and all of their recitals. Jealous of their talent, I was more envious of their opportunity to go to Virginia Tanner's. It looked like so much fun.

Virginia Tanner (1915 - 1979) was a pioneer in the world of children's dance. Her philosophy is the foundation of the Virginia Tanner Creative Dance Program. Classes take a holistic approach to teaching and learning, respecting each dancers' individual development level and needs. The studio is a sanctuary for children, a place where they can step into an environment which nurtures positive growth and development.

Creative dance classes focus on the development of the whole child. Through movement exploration, dancers reach progressive levels of physical skill development and are taught the vocabulary of dance.

Exploring the creativity and imagination of childhood, dancers have the opportunity to improvise, engage in creative problem solving and grow in cognitive, social and emotional ways as they interact in class. In the Virginia Tanner Creative Dance Program, each class has a musical accompanist to expose dancers to a variety of musical genres. Throughout the class, dancers will have the opportunity to incorporate art and art forms into their learning.

More than 850 dancers participate in classes held at the University of Utah studio and satellite locations: Ogden, Bountiful, Park City and Sandy. Through the creative processes of dance, arts integration, and a commitment to excellence, the environment of every class explores and unveils each individual's potential.

Yesterday was Grandparents' Day at Virginia Tanner's Creative Dance. I acted as a surrogate grandmother for my grand-niece, Sydney, whose real grandmother is in Perth, Australia on a mission for the L.D.S. church. I couldn't have been more proud of Sydney if she was my own grandchild. Thanks, Syd, for sharing the gifr and spirit of dance with me!

To Every Thing There is a Season

2009-11-19T13:23:00.000-07:00

The Cracked Pot

2009-11-18T21:48:00.002-07:00

An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck.

One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.

At the end of the long walks from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water..

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments.

But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream.

'I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.'

The old woman smiled, 'Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?'

'That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them.'

For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table.

Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.'

Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding.

You've just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.

SO, to all of us cracked pots, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!

Happy Halloween

2009-10-29T16:08:00.000-06:00

Groan!

The Story of My Life

2009-10-16T19:17:00.002-06:00

Reasons Why I Don't Blog

2009-10-14T18:19:00.002-06:00

Signs You're in Wyoming

2009-09-18T19:28:00.013-06:00

Wyoming, where "Whoa" means "Stop Pardner!"

Wyoming, where automobiles are hazardous to four legged critters and folks still travel by horse.

Wyoming, where Bubba's Bar-B-Que is the hottest grub in town.

Wyoming, where a day of canoeing beats a day at the office any day.

Wyoming, where Cairns* point the way.

Wyoming, a place for reflection.

Wyoming, where buffalo**still roam. (Thank Heaven.)

Wyoming, where you can get lost in the clouds.

*A cairn (carn in Irish, carnedd in Welsh, càrn in Scots Gaelic) is a man made pile of stones, often in a conical form. They are usually found in uplands, on moorland, on mountaintops or near waterways. Today, cairns are often used to mark hiking trails or cross-country routes in mountain regions at or above the tree line. In modern times cairns are often erected as landmarks. In ancient times they were erected as sepulchral monuments, or used for practical and astronomical uses.

**Actually, American Bison.

All photos by Sheri, September 2009

Life Lessons

2009-09-17T12:31:00.008-06:00

Read to the end, you will laugh just picturing it happening. I love the thoughts Maya Angelou lives by!

I didn't break the elastic...Don't break the elastic!

In April, Maya Angelou was interviewed by Oprah on her 70+ birthday..

Oprah asked her what she thought of growing older. And, there on television, she said it was 'exciting'. Regarding body changes, she said there were many, occurring every day--like her breasts. They seem to be in a race to see which will reach her waist, first.

The audience laughed so hard they cried. Maya is such a simple and honest woman, with so much wisdom in her words! She said this:

'I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.'

'I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.'

'I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.'

'I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as 'making a life.'

'I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.'

'I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back...'

'I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.'

'I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.'

'I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.'

'I've learned that I still have a lot to learn..'

'I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.'

Please share this to five phenomenal women today... If you don't...the elastic will break and your underpants will fall down around your ankles!

Believe me, I didn't take any chances on MY elastic breaking....I'm putting it on my blog.

How To Plant Your Garden

2009-06-27T16:31:00.025-06:00

First,

come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses. . .

Then plant a GARDEN of DAILY LIVING . . .

Plant 3 rows of PEAS:

1. Peace of mind

2. Peace of heart

3. Peace of soul

Plant 4 rows of SQUASH:

1. Squash gossip

2. Squash indifference

3. Squash grumbling

4. Squash selfishness

Plant 4 rows of LETTUCE:

1. Lettuce be faithful

2. Lettuce be kind

3. Lettuce be patient

4. Lettuce really love one another

No GARDEN is complete without TURNIPS:

1. Turnip for meetings

2. Turnip for service

3. Turnip to help one another

To Conclude OUR GARDEN We Must Have THYME:

1. Thyme for each other

2. Thyme for family

3. Thyme for friends

Water Freely with Patience

And Cutivate with Love.

There isn't much fruit in your GARDEN,

Because you REAP what you SOW.

Our Desert Blossoms as a Rose

2009-06-26T10:44:00.019-06:00

Utah? or Seattle? or Scotland?

I have to remind myself I live in a desert. In the first twenty-two days of June, eighteen were rainy. This is definitely not NORMAL. In fact, according to a local weather report it is 387% greater than normal.

I feel like we moved to Seattle and no one told me. I now live in Soggy Valley instead of the Salt Lake Valley.

In ancient times, the great prophet Isaiah proclaimed:

"The desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose. It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and singing. . .they shall see the glory of the Lord, and the excellency of our God. . .for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert. And the parched ground shall become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water. . .and an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called The way of Holiness. . .and the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." (Isaiah 35:1-2, 6-8, 10)

My mother would be so proud of my roses!

The early Latter-day Saints who entered the Salt Lake Valley understood the words of Isaiah to have special meaning and application to them. Indeed the Salt Lake Valley was at that time a desert, a solitary place. But since then it has blossomed as the rose. . .and the roses have never been rosier than this year.

In 1847 trapper and mountain man, Jim Bridger, told Brigham Young that it was not prudent to bring a large population into the Great Basin until it is proven that grain can survive the cold. So skeptical was Bridger, that he told Brigham Young, “I would give $1,000 for a bushel of corn raised in the basin.”

I wonder if Brigham Young paid up.

Orson Pratt, one of the first Mormons to see the Salt Lake Valley, exclaimed, "an extensive scenery opened before us, we could not refrain from a shout of joy which almost involuntarily escaped from our lips the moment this grand and lovely scenery was within our view."

But not all of the pioneer party was so enthusiastic about the Great Salt Lake Valley. Harriet Page Wheeler Young on viewing the Salt Lake Valley said, “Weak and weary as I am, I would rather go a thousand miles farther than remain in such a forsaken place as this."

Oh, if Harriet could see the valley now!

The Geraniums have never been so grand!

The Delphiniums have never been so delightful!

The Ornamental grasses have never been so ostentatious!

Although I tire of the rain, I'm grateful for the cool temperatures. It will soon be in the 90s. The plants will wilt and turn brown to remind us we live in a desert. We'll forget the lush, green of spring and we'll sizzle in the heat of summer.

I get the news I need on the weather report.
I can gather all the news I need on the weather report.
Hey, Ive got nothing to do today but smile.
Da-n-da-da-n-da-da-n-da-da here I am. . .

(Only Living Boy in New York - Simon and Garfunkel)

Shoefiti

2009-06-20T18:48:00.008-06:00

Who knows why, in a quiet suburban neighborhood, the youth fling their sneakers over the power lines? My adult children told me it means there is a drug dealer in the area. Should I be concerned about the children two blocks from my home when this happens?

If my son did this when he was a teenager, he would have been grounded for

life even if it didn't involve drugs!

Okay, I haven't been living in a cocoon. I've seen this kind of thing for years, but not so close to home. I had to come home and google "Shoe tossing" to find an answer.

Wikipedia defines it this way: "Shoe flinging or "shoefiti" is the American and worldwide practice of throwing shoes whose shoelaces have been tied together so that they hang from overhead wires such as power lines or telephone cables. The shoes are tied together by their laces, and the pair is then thrown at the wires as a sort of bolas. This practice plays a widespread, though mysterious, role in adolescent folklore in the United States. Shoe flinging has also been reported in many other countries.

A number of sinister explanations have been proposed as to why this is done. Some say that shoes hanging from the wires advertise a local crack house where crack cocaine is used and sold (in which case the shoes are sometimes referred to as "Crack Tennies"). It can also relate to a place where Heroin is sold to symbolize the fact that once you take Heroin you can never 'leave': a reference to the addictive nature of the drug.

Others claim that the shoes so thrown commemorate a gang-related murder, or the death of a gang member, or as a way of marking gang turf. A newsletter from the mayor of Los Angeles, California cites fears of many Los Angeles residents that "these shoes indicate sites at which drugs are sold or worse yet, gang turf," and that city and utility employees had launched a program to remove the shoes. These explanations sound more like urban legends, especially since the practice also occurs along relatively remote stretches of rural highways that are unlikely scenes for gang murders.

Still others claim that the shoes are stolen from other people and tossed over the wires as a sort of bullying tactic, or as a practical joke played on drunkards. Others simply say that shoe flinging is a way to get rid of shoes that are no longer wanted, are uncomfortable, or do not fit. It may also be another manifestation of the human instinct to leave their mark on, and decorate, their surroundings. It has been reported that workmen often throw shoes if they are not paid for waxing floors."

Snopes.com goes on to give an innocent reason for this juvenile act:

Graduating seniors use it to mark a transition in their lives.

Since the shoes in my neighborhood have just appeared recently, let's hope graduation is the explanation.

WHAT HAVE YOU HEARD ABOUT SHOEFITI?

Is it an innocent adolescent prank or

a sign of something more sinister?

Are women born this way?

2009-06-17T15:22:00.003-06:00

In case you haven't noticed, I'm taking a long break from Blogging.

Dog Owners Please Read!

2009-06-06T14:56:00.003-06:00

If you are an owner of a dog that belongs to a dangerous breed category

and you also have a small child please take this as a warning.

Don't leave your dog with the child unattended under any circumstances.

Only a little moment was enough for the following to happen . . .

Pit Bull Viciously Attacked by Young Boy

Confessions of a Puzzle Nut

2009-05-27T13:08:00.015-06:00

New York Times Puzzles are the BEST!

I am a puzzle-oholic, an addiction I can't shake. Of our two daily papers, we have to take Deseret News, because it has the New York Times crossword puzzle and the Sheffer Crossword with Cryptoquip. If anyone knows of a 12-Step Recovery Program for puzzle-oholics, please let me know.

I feel puzzles are a great past time, but my husband says they're just a waste of time. However, I read somewhere that puzzles keep our brains lubricated and sharp. My brain needs all the help it can get.

I really like figuring out the themes in the NY Times puzzles. For instance, in the puzzle above, the theme was alcoholic beverages. What do Donald Rumsfeld (20 Across), Amy Winehouse (26 Across), Wallace Beery (45 Across) and Natalie Portman all have in common? You're right. This is an easy one. They all have alcohol in their names, as in RUMsfeld, WINEhouse, BEERy and Portman. Obvious when the puzzle is solved. But you don't know the theme until the puzzle solved. Oh, so clever.

Cryptoquips have also become a favorite. I always try to solve these without using the clue at the bottom. Each letter is replaced with another letter. For instance, replace all P's in the puzzle with D's.

When solved the above "Quip" says: "The old church, lacking any keyboard instruments, may soon be seeking an organ donor."

Once a month I receive a Remicade infusion for my R.A. I sit in a comfy Laz-E-Boy with an IV in my arm for about two and a half hours. I take my book of puzzles which includes Sudoku, WordSearch, Mazes, Crosswords and Cryptoquips. I've finished my last book which included loads of good advice in puzzle form and I thought I'd share what I learned.

In a Letter Replacement puzzle was the following quote by Eleanor Roosevelt:

"Both the president and his wife can never give

way to apprehension even though they

are probably more aware than

most citizens of the dangers that may

surround us. If the country is to be confident,

they [the president & wife] must be confident."

Other favorite crytoquips with sage advice:

There is no greater loan than that of an ear.

Facts don't cease to exist when ignored.

Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or self confidence.

Society is like the air--necessary to breathe, but insufficient to live on.

Anytime the going seems entirely too easy,

make sure you are not heading downhill.

It is a sad fact that too often we are interested in justice for

JUST US.

Seven days of a crash diet can make one WEAK.

The closed mouth will gather no feet.

He who toots his own horn is a one man band.

It is hard for those with no talent to be modest.

The more intelligent a person is the more originality he discovers in others.

Some people have delusions of adequacy.

I dare say that which we call a cauliflower by any other name

would not taste any better.

If at first you don't succeed, you'll receive a lot of advice.

Hourglass figures are most fasionable until there time runs out.

We'd be happy to pay as we go, if only we had finished paying for where we've been.

My puzzle book is complete. Time to go buy a new one because tomorrow if Remicade day! Puzzles help keep me sane.

WHAT’S FOR DINNER

2009-05-22T13:54:00.025-06:00

Can't eat pork,
Swine flu. . .

Can't eat chicken,
Bird flu. . .

Can't eat Beef,
Mad cow. . .

Can't eat eggs,
Salmonella. . .

Can't eat fish,
heavy metal poisons in their waters. . .

Can't eat fruits and veggies,
insecticides and herbicides. . .

Hmmmmmmmmm!!!!!
M
M
M
M
M
M
M
M
M
M
M

I believe that leaves Chocolate and ice cream!!!

Remember - - - 'STRESSED'
spelled backwards! is
'DESSERTS'

Share this to four people and you will lose 2 pounds
Ignore it and you will gain 10 pounds immediately!
That's why I had to pass this on - -
- - - didn't want to risk it - - -
And I wanted to put a smile on your face.

Signs of the Times

2009-05-21T11:21:00.019-06:00

Eat your heart out, Donald Trump!

These signs are from churches in the U.K.

To All the Moms I've Known

2009-05-11T21:00:00.029-06:00

Mom Vi (1911-1998)

My friend Mark once told me that my mom would

definitely be a Duchess if America had royalty.

I agree. She always liked going first-class.

However, she was born in America to humble parents.

She married during the Great Depression and

worked hard all of her life.

She knew how to scrimp and save.

She lived the American Dream.

A handsome husband with a good job.

A house in the suburbs.

Four healthy children who all graduated from college.

Being upwardly mobile was important.

Her life was probably easier than her parents.

It was unquestionably less problematic than her grandparents.

Which is not to say there weren't hardships and trials.

There were plenty of those.

Mom wanted only the best for her children.

She wanted us to be happy, fulfilled, successful.

She wanted us to believe in God

and live by the Golden Rule.

Mom liked to talk and appreciated an attentive audience.

She was a skillful story teller.

She might have been an actress or teacher--

in a different era, when mom's worked.

Sister Gail (1937-2007)

My sister was my second mom.

She was twelve years older than I,

but always acted twenty years older.

Once while she was baby-sitting me,

I threw a tantrum--big time.

She dragged me to the tub,

threw me in kicking and screaming.

Then she turned on the cold water, on my head.

I think that was my last tantrum.

Another time when she was incharge,

I got hit in the head with a rock-missile

thrown by an angry neighbor boy.

I ran home with blood gushing,

rushing down my face.

I couldn't see myself, but I'll

never forget the look on Gail's face.

No mother's expression could have been

more frightened.

That's when I cried.

Gail had no children of her own,

but she helped mother me.

I looked to her for advice, counsel, direction.

She was a noble mother.

Mom's Mom--Rebecca "Mumpsie" (1886-1945)

My maternal grandmother died before I was born.

Though I never knew her, I know I

share some of her traits.

Unlike my mother, Mumpsie did not like attention.

She hated having her picture taken.

I understand completely.

Born in Logan, Utah to an English farmer father

and a Swedish mother, Rebecca was the middle of nine

siblings, but also had nine half siblings.

Rebecca learned to blend in, not stand out.

She learned to share and be a care giver.

She raised five sons and one daughter.

Three of her sons went to war in the Pacific.

All returned safely before Mumpsie

died of breast cancer.

Mom's Maternal Grandmother--Enga (1856-1923)

My mother was born in her grandmother Enga's home.

Grandma Enga was born in Sweden as Ingar Hansdotter.

Taking her father's surname, as is the custom in America,

Ingar became Ingar Anderson when she immigrated.

For some reason, no one in Logan could spell

Ingar, so she became Enga.

Mom remembered Enga, but couldn't recall

a Swedish accent which I find incredible

since Ingar didn't know a word of English

when she immigrated at the age of nineteen.

Generations of women have effected who I am.

I love them all for making my life possible.

For the lessons they taught small children,

for all the clothes they washed and ironed,

for all the food they cooked,

for all tears they wiped--

Thank you to these wonderful women.

And thank you
to the next generation of Mom's in our family--

My nieces and my nephews' wives

Dan, Niece Angie, Alaina

A Picture's Worth. . . .

2009-05-08T14:09:00.008-06:00

I've been down with the flu (not Swine) for a week and haven't felt like blogging. Current temperature: 100.6. Current status: coughing, headache, stuffy nose, sore throat, chills and aches.

Thanks to my trusty laptop, I have been reading blogs and keeping up with Facebook and Twitter.

Bathroom progress update: Ready for paint. Pictures to follow next week. My son is transforming our small master bath into a Tuscan Spa! I can't wait to soak with candles and music, but it's taking longer than expected.

Here are some of my favorite photos from the week.

TUMMYTUBS

Put your baby in a bucket, call it a new way of bathing a baby and make a

million dollars. Ah, the entrepreneurial spirit!

Deron Williams Hits the Skids and

Slides into Jack Nicholson

Our Utah JAZZ were eliminated from the NBA Play-offs by the LAKERS.

This was no surprise nor is it news, but I'm slow posting a shout out to our

team who've kept us entertained all winter.

"The Race is Not Always To The Swift,

nor the battle to the strong."
Our dog Annie and cat Persy race down the stairs. They compete every chance they get!

Here is my favorite photo of the week:

Are there any two things more beautiful than

a little girl and a butterfly?

Our Anniversary

2009-05-06T11:09:00.011-06:00

Bill (1978) -------------- Bill (2008)

Happy 36th Anniversary to us--

May 4, 1973 to May 4, 2009

We've been together through thick and thin (no pun intended about Bill's hair. Okay, maybe the pun was intended). He's my best friend and is very patient with my illnesses and complaining. What can I say. He's a great person and I love him dearly.

Techno-Humor

2009-05-01T20:18:00.015-06:00

BLOGGING

Unlike Opal, I'm becoming sort of a techno-snob. I'm a Blogger, Twitterer, Facebookee, Googler, Flickr-er, oh and yes, I even resort to the old-fashioned E-mail sometimes. These are terms I'd never even heard ten years ago. How was I to know how addictive the computer could be?

Ten years ago, I used my computer strictly for research and writing reports. I won't say I'm good at all this stuff, but 'I've come a long way, baby.' I love widgets and gadgets! I'd be lost without my computer.

Gotta laugh about it.

FACEBOOK

TWITTER

GOOGLING

E-COMMERCE

WHAT'S NEXT FOR ME? I SUPPOSE I'LL HAVE TO TRY:

TEXT MESSAGING

First Date

2009-04-27T11:32:00.012-06:00

It was 1961 and I was in the seventh grade at Olympus Junior High. I felt very grown-up when I was asked on my first date to our school's dressy night dance. (Yes, unbelievably in those days the school board allowed date-dances in Junior High.) It didn't matter that I hardly knew the boy who asked me, a skinny, geeky guy with thick horned-rimmed glasses. I'll call him Freddy.

I was going on my first date at the age of twelve.

My mother worked at ZCMI, a department store at the first Mall in Salt Lake City. She bought me a drindl-style jumper with a frilly white blouse and a new pair of black, patent-leather Mary-Jane shoes. I bristled at the idea of nylon stockings (I don't think I even wore a bra at the point), but knew it was part of growing up. Gratefully, she didn't allow me to wear high heels at that age.

The night of the dance arrived and Freddy's father drove. They picked me up at 7:00 PM sharp. As I slid into the large front seat between the dad and my date, the radio began to blare "On the Street Where You Live" from My Fair Lady. I was so embarrassed I wanted to cry and hoped that neither one noticed the irony except me.

The song droned on throughout our ride to the Junior High as Freddy Eynsford-Hill serenaded the lovely Eliza Doolittle. It was a song with which I was very familiar since we had an LP of the Broadway soundtrack. I thought we'd never arrive at the dance.

And oh! The towering feeling
Just to know somehow you are near.
The overpowering feeling
That any second you may suddenly appear!

The gymnasium was decorated with crepe-paper and the lights were low, but the dance was totally uneventful as we waltzed two-feet apart in a large circle. We didn't talk much. Neither of us knew what to say. The ninth graders were dancing much to close for comfort. ICK!

After the dance, Freddy's dad picked us up. (Had Mr. Eynsford-Hill been waiting in the parking lot the whole time?) Freddy's best friend plus date (J and B) got into the back seat of the car for a ride home.

Freddy asked his dad to take us to Paul's Ice Cream Parlor for an after dance treat. We went inside the parlor and sat at a table. Of course, Mr. E-H remained in the car.

None of us had any money except Freddy, but he proudly announced he was paying and we could order anything on the menu---as long as it was under 25 cents! J, B and I each ordered a single-scoop ice cream cone while Freddy ordered a giant banana-split!

We finished our cones quickly, then sat for twenty-minutes watching Freddy gorge, gobble, slurp and devour his gooey, yummy, decadent treat.

As I arrived home, I remember thinking, "I hope I don't have to go on a date for a long, long time!" Looking back on it now, it's a funny story. Then it was a painful event, something to endure like the dentist's chair.

What was your first date like? How old were you? Was it fun or agonizing?