November 3, 2014

All snarkiness aside, today I'm grateful for the 80 years my mother as spent on this earth. This year her only wish was to have all her living daughters attend General  Conference. Well I don't know about the people that live outside Zion, but getting 6 tickets to the same conference in the mission field is pretty tough. Our stake came through though, and we were extremely grateful. Here's to a few more years (ok a lot) and may she learn to stay of stools, pick up her feet, and stop dozing quite so much in her chair and, wondering she isn't tired at night.

80 Years
Raising 5 girls
Running a family ranch and farm
Active in the Daughters of the Utah Pioneer
Voted. Favorite Herbergers Customer of the month
Voracious Reader Award
Former stake Primary President
Former Relief Society President
Damn fine businesswoman

Here's to more years! I love you

November 2, 2014

Oh the gratitude continues, today I'm grateful for yeast. Yes, while not great when causing an infection, the rest of the time this amazing gas producing bacteria is responsible for so many delectable edibles (and I've never even had beer). Who doesn't grab a couple dinner rolls? Love the smell of fresh baked bread? Loves deep dish pizza? All brought to you by that ever loving flatulating bactria.

November Gratitude Posts

Oh yeah, its' that time for the  annual event, my November Gratitude posts, perhaps not your normal posts about family and church, but deserving of acknowledgment none the same.

OCTOBER IS OVER!!!!!! I am extremely grateful that the month o' spooky, terror and fear is over. Glad that the month of celebrating the supernatural evils in the world are over, Glad that for no discernable reason the children in our society, which already demand more than their share of time than at any other decade of history, require yet another full month AND CANDY!!!!

My joy on November 1st is remarkable, I just hope fall lasts long enough to still enjoy it.

Damn Throat!

It has been 11 years...ELEVEN YEARS people!!! About six or eight weeks ago, I had a little hay fever going on, no big deal, but there was a lot of coughing involved. Curious, but maybe it was just a little reaction. Sadly the coughing continued past the hay fever, so it was off to my old otolaryngologist Dr. Trowbridge. Fortunately, it had been long enough that he didn't actually remember me (or because I have lost 120# since those old days). But when we started going over my history it all came back to him.

So he did one of my most favorite things... shoved a camera up my nose and then said those famous words "well, you have something I haven't really seen before" (if I had a dollar for every time he has said that I would have like $30). It seems that I had a ribbon of scar tissue straight across the middle of my trachea, just below my vocal cords, kind of like a bow sting. So a surgery date was quickly scheduled and it was today.

A little nervous (OK a lot), so I took the day off and headed in for a 7:45 procedure. I had forgotten just how cold OR rooms can be. Although, I was pleasantly surprised that the new IV drug of choice for after surgery is now dilaudid, rather than that nasty old morphine. Overall things went well, I was about 50% blocked, but the proof is in the recurring scar tissue.

Food Storage & A Barren Pig

If I learned anything growing up it was that dry cows went to the sales yard and barren wives were to be replaced (just kidding, well kind of). I’m not sure if it was Wilbur’s fault, Lola’s, or even mine, but there are no piglets to be found at the old Dederick house. So it is with a little bit of a heavy heart that I have decided to send Lola to the butcher shop. Every thing must fill the measure of its creation, and apparently Lola’s is to fill my freezer and provide a Christmas ham for 2014.. But before we cart her off, I remembered that I have quite a bit of expired food storage down in the scary basement, so… It seems the perfect solution, I’m sure if she knew she would go on a hunger strike.

ATTENTION ALL FAMILY MEMBERS!!!

This announcement is let everyone in my extended family know that due to my lack of interest or enthusiasm, I will no longer be actively involved in the planning, executing or maybe even attending the RE Whiting Reunions. I have previously thrown myself into these reunions to the point that reunions are actually cursed at my house, only to realize that I don’t like most of my cousins and that they in return are not all that fond of me. It’s ok, chance made us cousins but that doesn’t mean we have to like each other. I’m not really sure why I have attempted to kill myself in the last decade or so, with plays, activities, cookbooks or other endeavors. Last year my sisters and mother accepted responsibility for the reunion for 2015, and at first I was ok with planning yet another reunion, until I realized that I just didn’t want to. No one should take offense, to every thing there is a season right? I remember when my Dad decided to stop going to the big EM Whiting Reunion, it is just time. I would however, be amenable to going to work on the DP Whiting Reunion!!

Little Boys...

I was born into a family of girls, to a woman who only had sisters, and each of my sisters and I were allotted exactly one boy each, so my exposure to little boys was pretty limited until I started doing Cub Scouts 100 years ago. Perhaps my sisters and I were only given one each to prepare us for the onslaught of little boys that seem to be perpetuating the next generation, the number of boys in my family seem to be growing exponentially. This week I got an extra dose because Nancy and I went down to St. George to see the Andrus boys, and try to watch a couple of their football games (two of the three games got rained out). Then the day after I got back I had scouts with three rowdy little boys from our ward, anyway, I’m not sure if I should be offended or complimented because the cub scout boys now feel comfortable passing gas in front of me. I don’t know if this is because they have no manners or if they have now accepted me as one of their own.

Modest? Not really...

Maybe I’m getting old, ok… I know I’m getting old…but I have a little complaint about “young women these days”. I know finding dresses in this day and age is difficult. I get it, stores don’t carry a lot of dresses anymore, however that doesn’t mean that your entire Sabbath wardrobe needs to consist of knit skirts and tight scoop neck white t-shirts. Oh yeah, by the way, the layering with a cami totally doesn’t help. I don’t know if this trend is unique to my area, but most of the young women– 35 and younger – seem to believe this is great Sunday couture. Most if not all seem to wear these t-shirts so tight that I can see the back fat under the bottom of the bra strap and if they have an innie or outie.  Plus, I really really really like it when they are pregnant and the t-shirt is stretched so tight I actually get to see the baby move! I just want so badly to go up to one of them and say, “Sweetheart, I know the mirror you looked in this morning showed what I see, so you really don’t have an excuse” or “Wow, is that a different T today or do you only have the one?” Sadly in my ward, the entire YW seem to wear this combo as if it is some sort of under 40 uniform. So just let me throw this out: Tight T shirts are immodest, showing every bulge is gross, you seem to have plenty of time on pintrist – so maybe you could spend a little more time actually looking for a dress, and casual is not OK for church!!! On a side note from a previous post – put on some nylons.

Cancer Sticks

My next door neighbor and friend Kathleen has cancer. My sister Nancy is handling it with typical Nancy flair, she tells Kathleen to her face that she has cancer... so rude! After all, aren't you supposed to whisper it behind her, like she doesn't know?

But I once again digress...

Last night Janna and I were heading into town. She had a pencil, adorned with nasty orange and blue, which during her boring ride with me, she stripped off to plain wood. We then had the following conversation:

Janna - I'm going to pretend this is a cigarette and smoke it.
Me - Where have you ever seen anyone smoking a cigarette?
Janna - In cars, I see people smoking.
Me - Fine, suck on your cancer stick
Janna - What do you mean?
Me - Cigarettes cause cancer
Janna - Do you mean to tell me that Kathleen smokes cigarettes?
Me - Who told you Kathleen has cancer?
Janna - I hear things.

She certainly does, be advised this little girl hears everything said around her.

More than One Way...

Yup there is more than one way to skin a cat, but anyway you do it, the cat isn't going to like it. We are getting ready to return our little miner back to academic hell, and now that she isn't going to be living on campus she is going to require a little bit more in the way of transportation.  Freshmen at mines are required to live on campus, and parking being a premium, they also recommend not to bring a car.  They really are pretty self sufficient there, they seem to have their own little ecosystem.

But this year, Emily will actually be living just across the street, in a good sized two bedroom apartment with Tyler (Tyler is actually a girl, while I'm a free thinker, I'm not that free). Anyway, we as Emily's parents are generously furnishing her with a vehicle for her college experience.  Yes, that's right we are taking the 1996 Dodge Dakota over there.  I know, "I can't believe that you are taking the truck you purchased when Emily was 6 weeks old, over for her to use at college". Yeah, we aren't very good at letting things go... but anyway, the dodge runs pretty good, not for over the continental divide on any regular basis good, but good enough for running around the giant metropolis of Golden good. Honestly, Emily really only needs to get to church, the grocery store and of course, church. 

The main trouble with the old dodge is that the speedometer has been flaky for about 15 of those 19 years we have had it. Numerous trips into the  mechanics have yielded nothing. Intermittently the speedometer just stops working. But Scott discovered an awesome app... it gives your speed right there on the screen.  So Scott downloaded it and tried it out, and when I say tried it out, that means that Scott held his tablet in front of him and ran up and down our street... well, it works, at that speed anyway.

I'll bet your sorry you missed that show!

Mercy & Justice

Why is justice blind, because it has to be. I have been watching the news (big surprise) and all the pictures of the illegal immigrants flooding the southern border. You would have to have a stone heart to not feel something for all the little children huddling together in the border patrol facilities. 

 (Picture from Fox News)

But what do we do? We didn't send our children off to another country. I agree that while they are in our care they should be taken care of, but that they shouldn't be in our care for long. We need to send them back, the law is the law. They are illegal, mercy cannot rob justice, and we can not bend the rules because of the innocent faces looking at the camera lens.  Bending the rules will only encourage more, and the flood gates will open endlessly.  If you disagree, get the law changed.

Twist & Tuck

Sometimes my husband and I are in perfect harmony. Sometimes we absolutely agree on every issue, but... that's only sometimes. Scott is sometimes a bit of an over-the-top perfectionist. While I often have a time vs reward mentality.   I think our differences can be summed up with a loaf of bread.

Scott - takes the time to twist the bag and use the little wire covered thingy to secure the loaf of bread.

Me - completely comfortable with throwing the little wire covered thingy away, twisting the bag and tucking it under the load of bread.

What was Said- What I Heard

Yesterday on Facebook, I read this:

Due to a structural concern in the design of the OM Building the Presiding Bishopric has cancelled all meetings in chapels of this design until the problem can be rectified. The Grand Junction 10th & 11th Wards will be having sacrament meeting only with the Grand Junction 3rd and 6th ward respectively.

What I heard was-

WAHOOO....you get a free Sunday off!!!

Now I know that I attend church of my own free will and that no one forces me there every week, so it's odd that I have this little bit of jubilation in my heart. I wonder if that is how heathens feel every Sunday.  Well, best to not let this become a habit.

Son-in-Law

WOW..don't think I've ever thought about that. No, I'm not making any announcements, Emily just officially got her drivers license in the mail on Monday. To celebrate she has made several trips to town this week and today on the way to the theater to see a movie with Kassandra I got a phone call:

Emily- Mom, I don't know what to do first?
Me - What do you mean?? (Thinking to myself 911 or insurance agent)
Emily - OK, how do I put gas in the van

Alrighty then... my hope is that my future son-in-law is someone very familiar with reality. Yes, someone that understands things like plumbing, cars, and public events. I hope he is a carpenter, or car salesman, someone who doesn't solve for x, but knows how to back a trailer.

Pioneer Day

"blessed honored Pioneers!"

Living in the wilds of the "mission field" we don't actually get the 24th of July off as a state holiday. So unlike my relatives in Utah, I get to go to work on Pioneer Day. Neither our ward nor our stake has actually celebrated Pioneer Day for about 15 years??? Maybe longer? Personally I think it stems back to a couple of Stake Presidents that didn't have any pioneer ancestors and it made them mad.

This year while working on our Primary calendar, we decided to celebrate Pioneer Day on July 19th, with a trip "back in time". To be honest I stole most of the idea from family reunions and worked from there.  So we gathered all the Pioneer children and Jay & Jason gave them hay rides (along with their families) down to the creek bottom.  There the children each got a passport that allowed them to get stamps at each of the stations.  For stations, generous family members and friends stepped up to help.

We Had -
Oxen yokes
Branding
Washing
Quilting
Butter churning
Spinning wool
Candle making
Gold Panning
Roping

Plus, as a bonus, each of the children got a bag of hard tack and horehound candy!!! YUM YUM!!

Amazingly, I think the old people were as excited as the kids. We had 4 people between 75-80, and 3 that were over 80, including my Aunt Lois and Beth Forsgren (almost 88). One of the things I reminded the kids before we started was that the old people were very fragile and to be very careful with them.

My awesome friends Jinx & Fern came prepared with their oxen yokes and ATV. Barbara and Tim Austin came with painted lead for seeding the creek (don't tell the kids it's not real gold). Aunt Lois thankfully came prepared with the right kind of cream that she used her Grandma's churn to get us some butter. Sorry Shelli, I had no idea that table cream wouldn't turn into butter, but the bread that Kathleen and Nancy made was delicious with Aunt Lois' cream. Allison the Younger's mom Linda came and demonstrated spinning, my cousin Daniel and his wife Krystal came to make candles and brand pieces of wood. Beth and Aunt Lois had set a quilt up to show the kids the original Facebook, and Emily showed how to wash clothes on the old wash boards with creek water.

To top it off after Harriet showed up with fresh fried chicken and we wore the kids out with a sack race and a tug of war, the Chamberlain from the ward had set up their snow cone shack at my house for an awesome end of activity treat.

I hope the kids had a great time, I think the adults did, of course the older sibling ended up in the creek, who could blame them! Scott was on call, and since there isn't any cell service down at the creek, he ended up directing traffic and holding down the street. Of course he had made me an outhouse and helped get everything set up.

I'd like to show you a picture, but since I was to busy being a pioneer I didn't get any pictures. Maybe next year!!

Youth “Conference”

It has taken me awhile to decompress from this months activities, and while I’m still not 100% recovered, I have managed to finally gather my thoughts about the multi-stake youth conference 18 Lives and The Book of Mormon.  While information on this event was EXTREMELY lacking leading up to the actual event, when we asked Erik if he wanted to participate he was interested so we geared up.  There was registration that was due in March, but apparently that only applied to no one. So Erik attended several “practices” that we didn’t understand what was going on, then a couple stake leaders came to gin up some enthusiasm, because we only had about 35 kids that had signed up. The information they gave us was even more confusing and despite reviewing the web site numerous times, I still didn’t get the whole gist of the event.

BUT…still we pressed on.  It turned out that this event was a production at the Two Rivers Convention Center.  It was about a class of seminary students and through the use of pre-recorded video and live performances the story came together pretty good.  I don’t really want to take a lot time describing the actual performance (since it is available on DVD for $5), but I must say a couple other things and please understand that I say these things not so much as an arm chair quarterback, but as someone who actually gets in there, organizes things, and does them. Not to mention that if anyone in the stake actually cared to ask someone in my family to EVER do something we would seriously do it in a big way.

 1^st – The Venue

            OK, Two Rivers works great for craft shows, boat shows, banquet dinners, and the occasional prom. But as a performance venue it sucked. The viewing of the stage is difficult at best, not to mention audio and seating.  Two Rivers is not set up for any type of backstage area, as a result, most of our time was spent under Two Rivers, in the 100+ degree parking garage, that doesn’t have any restrooms. I could have understood using Two Rivers, if we didn’t have a couple of theatres in Grand Junction, like all the high schools, the college and even the Avalon. Plus, because of the seating and access to the event, there were all kinds of mis-information about how difficult it was going to be to get in to see the event. At one point, all the people in our ward were told that all the seats were gone, and if you did have some seats that you would need to be in them at least an hour early, and that you didn’t have the option of saving seats for people that you were waiting for.

 2^nd – Calling it a Youth Conference

            I recall attending a few Youth Conferences in my day, this wasn’t a youth conference.  It was a performance, which is perfectly fine and would have cleared up a ton of confusion, if the organizers had simply called a spade a spade. As a result of this missed nomenclature many people in our stake mistakenly thought the performances were only for the youth. Not to mention that other than a two great talks by Hank Smith, that was it for the “conference” portion of the event.  Why we couldn’t just call it a multi-stake musical performance is beyond me and then the “mystery” could have been dispelled.

3^rd – The Spiritual High Myth

            I attended all three days of this event.  It was a nice production, it had a great script, great music, and impressive videography. The biggest problem that I have with this whole thing is the constant and never ending “this is so spiritual” comment that was told over and over to the teenagers by the organizing adults. OK look, just because you say it, doesn’t make it so. It was 100+ degrees, you had absolutely nothing for these teenagers to do in the down time (except write in their journals of course), and yet over and over and over they were told how special it was that they had the opportunity to be in this “life changing event” and “it was/is/would be an amazing spiritual event”.  Now I’m not one to knock having a spiritual event, but I really don’t appreciate when other people inform me that I am having one. You can’t make someone have that experience, nor should you make anyone feel inadequate for not having the same experience that Molly Mormon next to them is having. 

 

As evidence of this I provide a couple of historical events, the dedication of the Kirtland Temple, not everyone saw angels, not everyone heard trumpets and that was OK, the Lord didn’t need everyone to see or hear the same thing. Did that mean the people attending the temple dedication were bad people or didn’t have a testimony? Ughh…no.  Second event: when Brigham Young was speaking to the Saints after the martyrdom of Joseph in the grove in Nauvoo. Not everyone heard Brigham sound like Joseph, but some did. Not everyone saw Joseph’s visage in Brigham, but some did, and that is OK.

 

Telling teenagers that they are in the middle of a spiritual experience is pretty dangerous ground. What if for instance they aren’t feeling the spirit? Does that mean something is wrong with them? Or worse do they think some thing might be wrong with the doctrine and beliefs of the gospel? Like I said before, I remember going to a few Youth Conferences growing up. There were some teenagers in our ward that seemed to be experiencing a never-ending spiritual high. I think they cried constantly from the time we left the church until after the Sacrament meeting report that they were, of course, asked to deliver. Every talk, every seminar, every testimony meeting, they bawled, they sobbed and they carried on proclaiming their strength in the gospel. But remember…I have lived here a long time, and I’m cursed with an even longer memory.  Many (if not most) of these same dripping teenagers are now completely out of the church, even to the point of hostility.  At the time they were praised and adored by the adults in charge, and now they fight against the church with equal zeal and venom.

 

I watched from the sidelines of this event, other than volunteering to be a chaperone I had no business being there (other than as a helicopter Mom of course).  But, as I watched I saw so many things that I have seen before, the same plays, the same players with different faces, and sadly I have a feeling I know what the score will be in a few years. Maybe that is why I’m a little cynical in teaching my children about events like this.  Lives don’t change because of a large production at Two Rivers or a trek through Wyoming pulling a handcart. Lives change when you are open to opportunities of the spirit when you are driving in a car, standing in the grocery store, or handing water bottles out at the county fair. Lives change when you serve others, smile at a stranger or just listen when someone needs to talk.

But don't take my word for it...
Alma 37:6
"Now you may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means doth confound the wise."

The Gentle Cooing of a Dove

When I was growing up we hardly had any doves around the house. There were a ton of pigeons that lived in great fear of me after receiving my pellet gun at age 12, but I digress. We started getting Mourning Doves a couple years ago when some common Grackles chased them out of Palisade. I don't consider the cooing of doves a relaxing sound. I don't like the way they are always hanging around, they are too big for my bird feeders so they sit on the edge, dump all the seed on the ground then eat it.

This morning we were heading out and I noticed a big fat dove sitting right outside my back door. I told Emily to wait, and I reached for my BB gun that I keep by the door. Emily was confused, "Why don't you like doves? They are the universal symbol of peace." In that moment of clarity I realized why I don't like doves, I am not a peaceful person!!!



You Think I'm Old Enough to Know Not To Do That....

Yes, here it is day number 4 wearing a hat. Why are you wearing a hat Allison? Well, my hair was a little thick and long, my schedule was a little full, and my patience was a little thin.  So I grabbed my Mother's thinning shears, just to take a little out and make it through until I could get in to see Brenda..... yeah, I should have known better.

Heart's Home

There are three places in the world that are more sacred to me than any other. No, I'm not talking about a temple. I'm talking about sacred places that hold my heart forever in their grasp, no matter what. One is the ranch that I grew up on, another is the Uncompaghre, and finally the third is the Whiting Homestead in the White Mountains of Arizona.  Tonight as I write this my beloved homestead is under threat once again of a fire. 

This has happened before, but this one is closer than the last several.  Within 8 miles last reported.  My family holds the homestead in a trust, that is run by a board and hopefully will always be there for the descendants of my Great Grandfather Edwin Marion Whiting.

My older sisters got to spend their early childhood summers at the homestead, my parents lived in Mesa and it was a great place to spend the summer out of the heat, by the time I came along my parents had moved to Colorado, and the homestead was an easy 9 hours away. My memories of the homestead are for reunions only, and the last 10 years of his life my Dad refused to go down for reunions.  I went back in 1998 for the 50th Anniversary reunion, then my branch had a reunion there in 2009, and we went back for the big 2010 reunion to perform our play.

It is difficult to describe why this place has such a hold on my heart, I can't put a specific memory down, or event, just a feeling of walking with ancestors who worked so hard to make a living in those high Arizona mountains. It has a smell all it's own, in fact last year I found a candle in Bath and Body works that reminded me of the homestead.  I bought it, took it home and asked Nancy to smell it and tell me where it reminded her of, she told me that it didn't evoke a place memory, it reminded her of Grandma and Grandpa Whiting, but she didn't know why. Once I told her it smelled like the homestead, we both realized we were sharing the same memory.

I will get down on my knees tonight, and ask the Lord to at least spare the buildings of the homestead, I know fire is the forests way of rebirth, that it promotes healthy growth, and is necessary for many pines to actually germinate. But still, I will pray for one of the most treasured places on this earth for me.

He's Just a Big Dumb____________

All my life I have heard the following

"He's just a big old dumb cowboy"

"Well, I'm just an old cowboy"

"You know he's just a big old dumb farmer"

 

 

 



Do you have any idea how much that ticks me off? Do people have any idea what is required to be in agriculture? They are small business men who are at the absolute mercy of mother nature.

For instance:
Cattle men need to know:

Profit margins on optimal feeding of cattle to get the price for the amount of feed they put into them

Cattle futures and prediction of how the market will be, versus the market for corn, alfalfa, or other feed.

They need to project how many head an acre will handle based on the environmental conditions,
making sure to not over graze an area so they cut themselves short next year.

They need to be on call for any and all emergencies, from calves born in the middle of the cold February night, to treating pink eye and hoof rot, without needing to call the vet (a guaranteed $300 bill minimum).

Ranchers need to make sound decisions on herd management, including genetics, replacement heifers, first time calving size concerns for cross breeds, and growth genetics.  For instance it usually takes a Longhorn 3 years to mature to full weight, versus 2 for most breeds.  But Longhorn calves are usually smaller and Longhorn's do better in heat with less feed.

Are you getting this yet???

Farmers need to know:

Snow pack levels

Water rights law

How to survey and cut a field with furrows, for instance, a furrow that lets the water fall to slowly will cause crops to drown, but furrows that allow the water to fall to fast don't properly hydrate the plants. Not to mention all the presort and field leveling, without stripping the precious top soil layer.

Farmers need to know proper nutrient requirements for their crops, rotating nitrogen fixing crops like alfalfa with nitrogen promoting crops like corn, to allow maximum nutrient loading to allow maximum crop yield.

Farmers need to budget for equipment, did you know that a brand new combine will cost you well over a quarter million dollars, yeah $250,000.00. A decent tractor will easily hit you for $50K, not to mention all the implements you will need, plow, disc, blade, creaser, seeder, fertilizer spreader, or swathed, bailer, and bail wagon.

Farmers are then at the mercy of Mother Nature, one bad hail storm at just the wrong time, rained on hay cuttings, pest damage, or a host of other plagues, must all be planned for.

Are you still thinking agriculture people are dumb? We haven't even begun to discuss taxes, employing others, business models, inheritance issues, or any other of the myriad issues that are required for Farmers and Ranchers. Still people are willing to do this to feed you and the world. America's farmers produce more per acre than anywhere else in the world. So watch what you say about them, they are probably smarter than you are.

Fishing With Cub Scouts

Whenever I do this I get a whole ne appreciation for my Father willing to take 5 little girls and teach them to fish.  Anyway, this week for Cub Scouts we went fishing at Corn Lake.  It is amazing to me that for some this was the first time they had ever gone fishing.  Of course little boys can't sit still long enough to see if the bobber is wiggling on its  own or being helped a little. For some reason about half of them can't seem to put a worm on the hook, even though I am pretty sure all those boys have touched something grosser.

Wiggling bobbers
Crossed lines
Broken fishing poles
A lot of little bluegill to get of the lines and throw back in
One huge watermelon consumed
Gnats and mosquitoes
A flock of geese that decided we must want to share the aforementioned water melon
The nice old man, smoking his stogie, who got completely flanked by little boys


So overall a pretty successful evening. There were only three fish caught big enough to keep, Kaden got a nice rainbow (I let his Mom and Dad deal with that) the other was a cat fish by Matt (I let Uncle Scott deal with all cat fish) and the other was a nice little rainbow that made the mistake of swimming straight up to us and letting Scott simply scoop him out of the water with his hands. We headed home, Scott gave the rainbow to Matt, and I encouraged him to let his Uncle Jason show him how to clean and gut a fish.

Look Who Turns 15 on Sunday

 

 

LOOK AT THIS ADORABLE LITTLE BOY!!!!

 

I can't believe he is taller than me, and turns 15 on Sunday.

The Gift of a Generous Heart

I was truly blessed with a father who had a generous heart.  My Dad wasn't  rich when he died, but he had over 500 people come to his funeral.  I remember when my cousin was upside down on her mobile home that she had bought, my Dad arranged to buy it and incorporate it into a land deal he was making.  A few years later when my sister was in the same boat, I don't recall any of my uncles stepping up to the plate.  I'm not sure where my Dad acquired this nature, I don't think any of his siblings are so inclined. 

Having a generous heart is very different from just being kind.  Having a generous heart required that you give the most precious of all resources, yourself. It's the difference between feeling compassion for someone, and actually doing something for them. It's spending your resources to make people happy, like remembering when someone needs a coke, or something in their past that connects you with them.

I'm not sure if this gift is a learned trait or inherited, but I was blessed to see it firsthand.

Y Chromosome Requirement

Sunday was Father's Day, it also happened to coincide with Scott getting to pick the family movie, how apropos. Anyway, he picked John Wayne's "The Cowboys". Such a good movie, and our kids hadn't seen this one yet, because I have a hard time picking it.  No one wants to see John Wayne get shot, let alone in the back, then gut shot, by a low down scum bag like Bruce Dern. But so many awesome scenes in that movie, right to the end.

So I mentioned it to my young co-worker today, who said, "Huh, I don't think I have ever watched a John Wayne movie."  It took all my fortitude to not smack him right up side the head or as John Wayne would have said, "Get the hell off my spread". No wonder our young men are so lost in this generation, is there a more man's man than John Wayne? John Wayne didn't talk about his feelings and he didn't worry about hurting anyone else's.  He stood up for what he believed in, saw things in black and white, didn't tolerate this "middle of the road, get along with everyone business" that people in the PC world want now. He knew what was the right thing to do, even we he got shot in the back by a low down dirty skunk, he didn't even turn around to acknowledge that weasel. That's a man, a real man, even if it was in the movies.

My children have seen quite a variety of John Wayne movies, including Angel and the Bad Man, McClintock, Big Jake, The Quiet Man, Donovan's Reef, The Flying Tigers, and more. I know the premise "The Cowboys" may be new to some of the younger generation, but the story is how John Wayne needs to get 1,500 steers to the railhead 400 miles away, before the snow flies.  All the men are caught up with gold fever and he ends up using 10-14 year old boys, who get the job done. That may seem a little far fetched to some of you, but my Grandpa Whiting drove a wagon over Lee's Backbone when he was only 11, so to me that makes this movie pretty authentic.  Little boys did have more responsibility back then, there wasn't all this play dates, soccer practice, therapy crap.  Boys needed to become men, and guess what? They still do.  So if the men in our boys lives today aren't up to the job, I guess John Wayne movies should be required watching for all humans with a Y chromosome.

Father's Day

I was blessed in this life with two incredible Father's. They both had a lot in common. They both loved me unconditionally, they have always been there for me, they both have taught me life changing lessons and have watched me fail repeatedly. They have been patient with me, tolerated my irreverence, given me joy, helped me get up when I was down, appreciated my humor, given me hope, healed my soul and I miss them both terribly.

Both my Father's are on the other side of the veil, I know I will see them again, that they still love me and watch over me. One of my Father's I knew in this life, the other I knew before I came here.

Thank you, to both my Father's.

Branding at 45

My nephew Jason has decided to dabble in the cow business.  I love cows but know how much work they are, so while I enjoy looking at Jason and Allison's herd, I have zero interest in doing it myself.  The only hitch so far was that Jason had 5 calves born in early March and it was May; and they haven't been branded.  Jason talked about getting them branded since they were born, but I think he was a little nervous for his first time.  He kept giving dates, and then one thing or another would happen so the branding didn't.  Finally he claimed that Monday before Kassie graduation that he would do it.  I had the day off, Laura, Nancy, Jay, Jackie and the boys were here, even his old friend Spencer was available. 

Of course it rained a ton the night before and that morning. So when I went over to see what time, Jason suggested we push it off again.  His wife and I convinced him that a little mud beat trying to do 400# calves in June any day of the week, and did I mention that there were only 5?

Just before we started he asked me how long it had been since I had done this, OK maybe 30 years, but at least I had done it before, and as the pictures will prove - I still got it.... plus a few extra bruises.

Girls Camp

Yesterday I saw my cousin Amber come home and start unloading a trailer, then I remembered that this week had been girls camp, and she had been lucky enough to be the girls camp leader this year...hahahahaha. Girls camp has certainly changed in the years since I went. Oh how I loved girls camp, but I have a feeling that this new improved version and I wouldn't be terribly compatible.

My sisters were fortunate enough to have girls camp up on the Uncompaghre, my mountain, and all but one year, when there was a mud slide that closed the road, I had girls camp at Ragged Mountain.  Ragged Mountain for me is OK, I don't think I have ever felt the "exceptional spiritual feeling" there that others have. Maybe it's because I remember when they purchased the property and my Dad was on the high council.  President Cleghorn had all the high council members up there for the first camp out, and made the mistake of asking me what I thought of the place.  I gave an honest opinion that I didn't understand why with two amazing mountains within an hour of Grand Junction why we had to travel almost three to a place without a single flat spot.  Later that night my Dad laughed and told me to lay off President Cleghorn. (see I ticked off church leaders at a very young age).

But I digress, I had two of the world's best camp leaders, Aunt Lois and Maxine Klaich.  Back in the day, as they say, we actually had to primitive camp. That means, we hauled water from the "spring", cut our own firewood, pitched huge canvas tents that we borrowed from Kruckenbergs, trenched them, cooked all our meals over an open fire, built our own showers, and our "crafts" consisted of tying two sticks together and painting them.  I learned how a hot water tank worked by Aunt Lois using an old five gallon metal can sitting on the edge of the fire pit with a funnel in one end.  I learned you can actually cook a steak on a hike with a rock, I learned how a compass worked, how to find kindling even if it has been raining for days, and that when you put cold water in a hot cast iron Dutch oven it makes a sound similar to lightening cracking right when it splits in half.

We were not allowed gas stoves or cook tops, we didn't have cabins, we didn't  swim in the lake, we didn't have canoes in the lake, or a zip line over it.  We didn't have cool t-shirts and water bottles from the stake, we didn't have crafts worthy of Martha Stewart, and we certainly didn't have time for a lot of drama.  Yeah, that might be the one thing the stake over looked when they changed my beloved girls camp into summer bible camp.  When teenage girls have too much time, the drama increases exponentially.  Needless to say I am extremely grateful that I neither have a girl going to girls camp anymore, nor am a leader at girls camp. 

My daughter did attend three years of girls camp, and came home with exactly zero wilderness skills.  She did however come home with a whole lot of baggage because of the "she said" and "then she" variety. Girls all over our stake might be glad I'm not in charge of girls camp, on the other hand, I'll bet some of those folks stranded out in Long Island after hurricane Sandy might be wishing they had a few of those skills. See... those skills aren't just for camping people!

Regurgitating in Sacrament meeting

I remember the very first talk I gave in sacrament meeting, back in the old 2^nd ward on Gunnison Avenue.  It was on reverence, of course my Dad helped me, we looked up the story about the Savior cleaning out the merchants in the temple, then he assisted me in writing the talk and the appropriate comparison of our behavior in the church.  I think I was about 8 and I wore my favorite blue dress.

 I have listened to some very memorable talks in sacrament meeting, including the one about our two year supply and how we needed to be sure to include armaments to defend it (this was back in the 80’s). So it is with a heavy heart many times when I now sit in sacrament meeting and hear the speaker say, “I was asked to speak on a talk that Elder______________ gave in the __________ session of General Conference”.

REALLY!!!!!!          ARE YOU SERIOUS??????????

 

I have so many things to say…..

1)      Great original thought, member of the Bishopric

2)      Isn’t that talk available in my copy of the Ensign that came in the mail?

3)      Isn’t that talk available on line?

4)      Isn’t that session of General Conference available to watch online?

5)      Isn’t the Ensign available in my ward library?

6)      Do you think I was unaware that there was a General Conference in April?

7)      Do you Sister/Brother Soandso really think that you have something to add to the words of an apostle of the Lord?

8)      No, Sister/Brother Soandso, you were not the only ones that Elder________ gave this talk for

9)      No Sister/Brother Soandso, Elder_________ does not need you to give us the interpretation of what he meant.

10)   Actually reading the entire thing, doesn’t make this better

Heaven forbid that we should actually have to look up some information, cite a scripture, look up from the podium, or bear our testimony at the end of the talk.

Jinx Was RIght & I Was Wrong

Shall I start all over at the beginning? No, I don't think you need any more history of my pig adventure. Now, when we first got Lola, my awesome friends Jinx and Fern (OK, so they have known me since I was born), came over and saw that sweet little Lola, Jinx said, "I hate pigs". I should have known, Jinx knew, knew what was in my genetic code. He helped my Dad, and Grandpa's on both sides herd cows.  He knew I was not a pig person. I should have taken the hint.

Well, we found a pig buyer for Wilbur, an old broken down pig guy who found himself in need of a boar when his keeled over dead unexpected last week.  Lucky break for me because the Delta sale was starting to look attractive, even if they were only going for $20 a piece. Unlucky break for us that because he was a broken down old pig farmer the deal required us to deliver Wilbur. 

I brought Wilbur here, I've seen him load so easy, I didn't think this would be a problem.  We staged the trailer, panels then spent the next 6-7 hours in hell There were several points when I was sure I needed to get my gun and end the misery for all of us.  Then like a lightening bolt of inspiration I remembered the teachings of Dr.Pol.  Fastening wire snare over the top of his snout definitely got his attention.  The wire I had was a little to thin, so handy Scooter did a quick half hitch with some nylon rope and we were finally in business.  We managed to drag him into the trailer finally, all except for one hind leg.  Erik ran over to get my brother-in-law Jay who came over and added the final muscle we needed to get that stupid pig in the trailer. 

Of course once we got him there, he walked out no problem, like he owned the place...

So, back to the beginning, Jinx was right, I hate pigs too.

Opinions & Politics

I am out of my sleeping pills. Let’s not get into the why’s…but anyway, as a result I have been staying up later than usual.  Ok, a lot later, like 2 or 3 am. Which wouldn’t be too bad, except that I get up for work at 5:30. So staying up that late gives me the opportunity to watch shows on TV that I normally wouldn’t get caught into. Like this week the History Channel has had a series of 3 nights on World Wars.  It was pretty interesting and I learned quite a few details that I hadn’t before.  Scott, always deferring the remote to me, also got quite into the series as well.  Many of you may not realize this about me, but I have a little trouble keeping my opinion to myself, and you may not also realize that politics is a somewhat major hobby of mine.  The combination of those two things made watching this series with me a bit of a trial for my dear husband.  He probably didn’t appreciate me calling historical figures scumbags, morons, or loud comments at the TV like, “Oh appeasement didn’t work for Neville Chamberlain? Odd, I’m sure it will work against Jihadists now days”.  I can’t help it, but for now that is my reality. I’m sure my husband will be much more content to watch his late night tv after his wife gets back on some sleeping pills.

A More Innocent Time?

Last weekend we had a half hour to kill before the program came on that we actually wanted to watch.  Scrolling through the endless channels I happened to see Gidget was playing on one of the movie channels.  I flipped over to it, thinking that it had been a really long time since I had seen a Gidget movie.  Just then Emily came in and became quite interested, mostly because the whole premise and reality of the movie was so foreign to her.  Of course I can’t keep my mouth shut and began making rather sarcastic remarks about the entire movie. 

1)      Are we to believe that if Gidget manages to go her entire 16^th birthday/summer without MoonDoggie pinning her that her entire life is laid to ruin?

2)      Is there any worse special effects than that of Sandra Dee attempting to learn to surf?

3)      Why does her father appear to be old enough to be her grandfather?

4)      Where does the big Kahuna get his money from?

5)      Why aren’t Gidgets parents concerned about her hanging out on a beach with a bunch of older men that they have never met?

6)      How many bathing suits does she have?

7)      Why does the father allow the much younger police officer to lecture him on how to properly raise children?

8)      Why does Gidget try to take a leg of lamb to the beach party?

I have so many questions! I am pleased however that Emily found this movie and the idea of spending an entire summer attempting to attract one boy absolutely baffling.  A little later while talking to my sister Nancy, I mentioned that we had watched the last little bit of Gidget, (knowing that it is one of her favorites) “Oh, isn’t that a great movie, don’t you just wish for those times? You know when things were more innocent?” uhmmmm….I think she missed the part about the orgy on the beach at the end of the summer.  Innocent??? No I don’t think so.

Vanilla People

Many years ago I had an uncle that ran for Mesa County Commissioner. I remember during the campaign a radio announcer saying, "John Whiting is the only man I know that would go into Baskin Robbins and order vanilla". To be fair I think Uncle John would have at least picked strawberry. The other day I thought about vanilla people. 

I wonder about people that are vanilla, you know, never change, never anything slightly controversial, they dress very conservative, they smile politely, never make any waves... how dull. Personally I can't even begin to imagine how that would be, to go through life without any ups or downs, like traveling forever across a calm lake.

Even though I occasionally have to eat a lot of crow, I would never change my up and down life. When they say variety is the spice of life, I whole heartedly agree.

Graduation

20 years ago my niece Kassandra was born 6 weeks early, and without oxygen for nearly 7 minutes.  My sister nearly bled out and they both had to recover in the hospital for several weeks.  Specialists informed Nancy and Jaw about all the things that Kassie would never be able to do, talk, walk, learn, etc.  Conservative on purpose I know but experts can be real downers.

It turns out that despite amazing odds stacked against her, Kassandra graduated from GJHS on May 13th, 2014. She walked across the stage, unaided and with a little help from the Principal, went down the steps with a real life diploma from high school.

We cried, we cheered, we had a party with a bump and jump and the candy canon.

Then Kassie realized that she is facing the rest of her life....a little daunting.  She was going to just take a week off and then start volunteering at the VA with Uncle Scott around, when we hit a little snag.  Sunday while everyone was a church Kassie went out to get a bottle of salsa from the food storage, fell and landed her knee into the bottle.  Blood everywhere and a trip to the urgent care to fish out additional glass shards and stitches, Kassie is now on hold for a few weeks before starting the rest of her life. 

On the plus sign, she now is going to go to church on Sunday's and she got her own cell phone, to call in the event of an emergency!

Cold Cruel World

I know I haven't updated in quite a while, but I have kind of a reason.  First we had to go get that little Ore Digger back from Golden.  It has been a tough semester, and she was pretty fried.  We had to get her moved out of her dorm and then we had to locate a place for her to live next year.  So we started calling around about apartments and discovered we were running about 4 months late.  So we did luck out because a friend of a friend was graduating and Emily got a line about an apartment across the street from the college.  But it was a two bedroom and we didn't have a roommate. 

We made the plunge and put the deposit down, but I have to say it is one thing to move your 17 year old daughter into the safe confines of a college dorm, with 14 locked doors to get to her room, An RA two doors down and a meal plan.  Right after we put the deposit down I had a serious panic attack about throwing our little girl out into the world. 

Then we faced the challenge of looking for a roommate.  By happenstance we were in the bookstore and Emily saw a young woman who she kind of knew. They started chatting and the girl didn't have a place lined up to next year either.  I think the Lord was looking out for me because I think this young woman will be a perfect fit for Emily.  So the apartment will be ready on July 1, and Tyler (the roommate) will be moving in first and then Emily will be heading back in August.

Love on the Rocks

Me and my great ideas!! Sweet Lola, she seems like such a nice pig, but she loves to eat, and eat, and eat. So I was reading in one of my many hobby farming books, and they claimed pigs are so easy. Then I look on Craig list and see spring pigs selling for 100-125 a piece.  Pigs have litters between 8-12 twice a year. So I do the math and think.... hey... Lola could pay her own way.

So first I see a boar being pimped out on Craig list - I called "Romeo's" owner and I had some early contract negotiations.  Then I asked how I would know when Lola was amenable to being visited.  Even on the phone I could sense the pig man's uncomfortableness, he said, "uhhhh....well look at her piggy parts, or look it up on the internet" then the conversation ended.

So I went to my second pig expert-18 year old Colby at Murdocks. Colby was much more forthcoming with the signs of pork estrus. But I was still nervous about the whole idea.

Then I see an add on Craig's List for Wilbur, a hand raised 700# sweet heart in Hotchkiss. He was very mellow, so off we went in Jason's trailer and Wilbur came home.  The very first introduction went well, Lola thought Wilbur was pretty hubba hubba.  She frolicked and nuzzled, showed him around, two hours later however she hated him.  I don't mean like they just had a fight, it was like "GET AWAY FROM ME  I HATE YOU!!!!!" Finally pushed enough, Wilbur started taking a few swipes back at his new arranged mate.  Pretty soon, both of them were scaring the hell out of me when I went out to feed. It would be one thing if they just didn't like each other, but they have poor eyesight and really sharp teeth, and they are loud...I mean really loud. Not to mention that they have town the place apart, gates, shelters, holes everywhere.

So guess what, they get along really well in separate pens... but that kind of defeats the whole purpose of getting Wilbur.  So my handsome boar went back on the Pig Harmony website known as Craig's List.  At this point I have had only one interested party, they insisted on coming by on Thursday afternoon while I was at work. Utilizing Erik and my brother-in-law they attempted to load Wilbur into a large horse trailer.  I'm not sure exactly how it went down, it involved rope, an entire bag of corn, and a refrigerator door, and when I got home Wilbur was back in his pen, very thirsty.  Erik told me they changed their minds.  In the mean time....

Balance Restored (or I Counter My Husbands Building Skills)

Everyone who knows my husband knows he is a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to building things. He is the kind of person that when you are waiting at the counter in the store, remarks on the actual construction of the counter top. He makes observations in hotel rooms about the grout lines, makes people nervous when they show him things….

You may remember Lola the pig, I think I have mentioned her a couple times on this blog.  Well, sweet Lola is rather hard on shelters.  If you are as blind as she is, and weigh 500#+ maybe you aren’t as graceful as a gazelle. Anyway, Lola has managed to destroy just about every shelter we have provided for her.  At this point, I’m a little frustrated…OK, I’m very frustrated.  We gave her the old goat shelter, but it turned out that she is a little large for turning around in it, and tore the back wall all to pieces.  Then she is a little big for the little door, it scraped her back.  So the other day, Scott and I turned the shelter around and took the rest of the back wall off.  Then I had the idea that I would just build an over head shade type shelter out the front for her to keep the sun and rain off her. 

A quick trip to Doug Jones sawmill for some rough cut lumber and I was all set.  I would have asked my husband, but he is already pretty busy lately, and since I had Monday off, I figured I could do it all on my own.  I did require my sister Nancy to come over and hold some posts for me initially, and she encouraged me with the following statements:

“Do you have any idea what you are doing?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what you are going for”

“You should see it from this angle”

And finally

“Why don’t you wait for your husband to get home”

Thoroughly inspired I continued on. After all, I have watched and assisted Scott many times.  Not to mention that I attempted to build a tree house and a general store when I was about 10. I had the tools necessary, the requisite lumber, and the will.  As they say, the proof is in the pudding.  Yes, I managed to do this all on my own. I didn’t need a tape measure or level. Nope just good old pioneering spirit. As my pictures will demonstrate, this is an edifice worthy of engineering study.  Indeed, Lola was excited and moved in right away.

Of course Scott had to come and take a look when he got home.  He then gave it his infamous “stare”  then said, “I’m just trying to figure out what you are going for”.   Going for??? Dude, I’m done! I believe I should have my own show on DIY, but in the meantime, I am currently doing bids for your home remodel!

Wanderlust

I traveled quite a bit growing up. My parents loved to cruise all over the lower 48, and we traveled to all kinds of historical sites.  Then in my late teens and early twenties, I traveled even more.  I lived in Iceland for a year and a half, travelled down to England, I have been to Hawaii and nearly every one of the lower 48.  For some unknown reason I also get a copy of Travel and Leisure (I am baffled who actually uses that magazine to plan their vacations). Anyway, I noticed in an add for Holland America Cruise line that they had 34 day European Cruises.  We started looking them up and were fascinated by 112 day round the world cruises, a mere $40,000 per person (based on double occupancy) for a mid level cabin.  Who leaves for 112 days???

I realized, very unexpectedly the other day, that I currently have very little interest in travel. I’m not sure why, I used to love it.  Scott asked me the other day what we were going to do this summer, we both scheduled a week off in July, and I honestly couldn’t drum up any interest in traveling anywhere.  I just want to stay home.   I wonder if that is normal, for wanderlust to eventually die?

The Family Curse

First of all I have to say, that for any others out there so afflicted, I feel your pain.

Yes, I suffer from this as well...I have

                         the family piano.....

 



When I was little my mother forced, yes forced me to take piano lessons. I didn't want to, but I was the bottom of 5 girls and my Mother's last hope. Honestly, I neither excelled or enjoyed the experience. When I started this forced labor, my parents had an old upright piano, for some reason (I thought my parents never would go for it) I convinced my mother that I would be much more interested in playing a new piano.  So they bought me one.....


Thirty some odd years later there it sits, collecting dust and holding knickknacks. I don't play it, my kids don't have any interest in playing. But I feel guilty, because my parents bought it for me when they probably couldn't really afford it, and now what??? It only gets used on Christmas Eve, I think the F sticks a little, but I don't worry about it, because I don't play it, Jackie or Allison the Younger does mmwwaahahahahaha.

A friend at work recently remarked that his parents were moving and planned on taking the family piano up to his little brother in Wyoming... they live in Delta. We laughed cruelly over his misfortune. And then we laughed over the misfortune of his future Elder's Quorum's that will have to move that piano so many times.

If you suffer from the this, I am so sorry. As for me, well.... when the old woman isn't paying attention, it might end up on Craigslist.

Over Reach or Stupidity?

All over the news that idiot in Nevada is putting people and animals in danger.  I really doubt that you will find anyone more against the overreach of the government than I am, but this idiot, that can't even form a proper sentence is totally in the wrong.

First of all, I had "a bunch of Mormon pioneer ancestors that settle on lands" as well, I don't think that makes me inherently have the right to just do what ever I want on that property.  If that were true, I could go camp in the dug out that my ancestors made on the side of the Manti temple.

Secondly, I grew up in a family that ran cows on US Forest Service and BLM land.  We had close to 10,000 private acres and ran cows on nearly ten times that with our cow permits for 1,200 head of cows.  We followed the rules, we bought the permits and paid  the yearly grazing fees for the privilege of grazing our cows on the peoples lands.

From what I have understood from the news reports Clive decided to stop paying his grazing fees back in 1993. Yes, for over 20 years he has allowed 1000 head of cattle to graze, for free on my land, your land, and your neighbors land.   You may be ok with that, after all you may generously think, "Well, I'm not using it that sounds good". But, trust me that is a pretty dangerous slope to go down.  For instance, the median between the highway is public land, maybe I could grow a garden there.

Then the story gets a little dicey as Clive claims that the reason they won't let his cows graze is because of the endangered Desert Tortoise, which wasn't placed on the endangered list until 1998.  Yet still the BLM attempted to work with the idiot for well over 14 years.

Clive claims he is willing to pay the grazing fees to the state of Nevada, but not to the feds because they haven't done anything to manage the land.  OK Clive, why didn't you write a check to the state of Nevada in the last 20 years???

Let me give you another example, in case you still aren't getting this.  The highways and roads that we all drive on are public roads.  The government -state, fed, and local maintain those roads. You can walk on all those roads for free, however for the privilege of driving on those roads I am required to license my vehicle and pay taxes on it. I'm pretty sure I don't like what they use most of those funds for.  I don't think Denver needs pretty medians more than I think that 5th street needs to be repaved. But just because I don't think that they are spending the money properly doesn't excuse me from paying my license and tax for my truck.

Now Clive has ginned up a whole lot of anger, especially from people that don't understand the grazing and permitting process. He is putting a whole lot of people in danger, was given multiple opportunities to round up his cattle before the feds came in and now is crying foul.  Mr, Clive is in the wrong, and I hope no one pays the ultimate price.  By the way Clive.... be sure come November to vote again for Harry Reid.... after all he's a Mormon elected by your state too.

***BTW, I know his name is actually Cloven, and I'm surprised it isn't LaCliven