Wana Massage...Give Them A Try

 If you live in Northern Utah and if your body needs to be treated better, there's a place you should check out...

Wana Massage.

If you're wavering or think it's not for you, check out the company website. You can access it by clicking: HERE. So, after you've checked out the website, are you more interested?

The business is located on Main Street in Tremonton, Utah...a beautiful little town just north of Brigham City. Depending where you are, it could be a short drive, or a longer tour. Either way, they are waiting to hear from you to. You can book online, or call their number.

Full disclosure...I know one of the owners. I know them personally. I know they work very hard and are dedicated to the business and to helping people. They're like many small businesses--the events of the past eighteen months have not been kind. I can't imagine what small businesses have gone through or the stress they're under. When I clock out, I'm done for the day. With small business, there's no "down time," no "off switch." It must be tough.

So, if you're in the area and are thinking of pampering yourself a little bit, give Wana Massage a try. It'll be a good thing for you...and for them.

That Time I Saw An Amphibious VW...

 On occasion, I'll find myself browsing the pictures and stories of Instagram. I'm not as much an active participant, but rather an observer. I have a couple of topics I follow...University of Utah and their various sports programs being one of them.

Another topic I enjoy...is following sites dedicated to the appreciation of classic Volkswagens. 

A wonderful site I follow is: oldvwclub.

Yesterday, they posted a video from Germany, a video of VW amphibious vehicles from the 1930s or 1940s.

They were beautiful.

It reminded me that in the summer of 1985, I too ran into an example of this fine vehicle. I was in Denmark at the time, and I happened to snap a couple of pictures. They're not the best pictures...sort of mid-ish/late-ish Twentieth Century photo quality. If you're on Instagram and want to check out the video, click: HERE. If you like classic VWs, you might want to give them a follow. All the captions are in a different language, but I don't care...they're special cars.

Even the ones that drive on the water.

Those Beautiful Big Puffy Things...

One of the things we've noticed most this spring and summer where we live are the skies.

They've been spectacular.

I think because we live in a new neighborhood and there's not a lot of trees. Don't get me wrong--I love trees. We had so many trees at our last house that it made us feel closed in by comparison. The trees at our last house were beautiful. Right outside the master bedroom window were huge pine trees, trees almost fifty years old. It made us feel like we lived up in the mountains, but it blocked the view.

Here in Northern Utah one thing we've not seen much of in the sky were clouds. That changed last weekend. Big, huge, puffy, water-filled clouds gathered above us and let loose. We did get some much-needed rain and we can use a whole lot more.

I went outside and snapped a few pictures hoping to capture some of the awesomeness above our heads. They're okay pictures, but they can't do justice to the real thing. It's a rare photo that comes close. I think because when we see the real thing, there's an emotional connection to what is seen.

Yes...the skies are beautiful up here...even a cloudless sky is breathtaking. But, when the big puffy things show up, that's when the show really begins. 

Give Thanks...Reliable Transportation

 I came across a tweet today...just a random message in my timeline. A father sent out a message for help. His family, returning home to California, had car troubles. They were stranded with a broken-down van. The father asked if anyone was near Baker, California, could they give his family a lift into town until he reached them.

That thought, as I read the message, struck fear in me.

Last week we traveled that same road, around the same of day. We didn't know this when we scheduled the trip but we would be traveling during an unprecedented heat wave. When we drove across the desert the temperature registered 119˚ driving through Baker and Barstow. I prayed for the father and his family. Thankfully, the California Highway Patrol picked up the family and took them into town.

I'm so grateful for reliable transportation.

Our van is (considering the 2022 models come out in a few months...) fifteen years old. Before we moved, we drove it so infrequently...we're making up for it now. The van was practically gifted to us by an amazing friend about ten years ago. I don't know what we'd have done without that van.

As we drove to and from California, we saw cars pulled over--hopefully, it wasn't because of car problems, but I suspect some were. I hope people came to their assistance the way the police did for that man's family...the way our friend did for us years ago. Because of that van--in part--we were able to visit family, watch my daughter perform at a national event, helped my son connect with internet friends he'd never met, and create memories for the entire family. And saved us from breaking down in the desert. 

Yes...I'm so grateful for reliable transportation.

We Turned Our Backs And...BAM...We Have A Garden

 To be honest, we thought we wouldn't get a garden this year. We had put in the grass and started landscaping the front yard. The backyard...well, that would just have to wait.

Or so we thought...

We asked my oldest and his wife to house-sit for us while we were gone last week--mostly to take care of the one dog and two cats. When we got home we found out, they didn't just sit around the house and eat all our food while we were gone (okay...they did eat our food, but that was fine...). No, no...they were busy. My daughter-in-law loves to garden and so they went a little crazy and put in a wonderful little garden in the backyard.

We do have great plans for our back yard--we just thought we'd missed our opportunity for this year. Thanks to some hard work (and us being gone...), they made it happen this year. What a wonderful gift!

Still Finding What's New...Driving Home

In a few days it will be nine months since the move and we're still finding things that are new. Each holiday has been a new adventure, each season change, each sunrise and sunset in different places. I did not expect to find changes in our family vacation.

I mean, we were leaving home to spend time out of state.

But, as we drove home, I realized it was another thing for us to "get used to."

We don't take a lot of family trips, but when we do, we drive. We've driven to Idaho the most, then California, and Washington State. This time we drove to the Golden State. We returned on Monday, driving straight through. Normally, we'll pass Fillmore and I think, "We're almost to Utah County. That means we're close." Then when we reach Salt Lake City, we're so close to home you can almost see the house.

Not this time.

This time, when we reached Fillmore, then Provo, then Salt Lake City, we still had another hour+ of traveling until we reached our new home...it would be a while until we could almost see the house. That's when I realized, that's another change we've got to get used to. I suppose we experience the same thing on the way out of town, but to be honest, we left just after 4am and we were all pretty out of it for the first couple of house.

I write a lot about these changes--I guess when you live on the same street for half a century (pretty much...), moving takes some adjusting. Looks like I'm still "adjusting." However, when we travel north, or northwest, the reverse will take place. We'll reach Burley then Snowville and we'll be almost there. We'll reach Pocatello then Malad and we'll be almost there. I can get used to those changes.

What A Difference 42 Minutes And 10 Seconds Can Make...

 I took a break just before halftime, leaving the game playing in the basement so I could share in a phone conversation with family as we prepared for our trip. After all, there'll be a break soon and I can always go watch the second half after the phone call.

The call ended...I accessed an app on my phone to check the score. Instead of the clock running, the app said the game was postponed. 

That made no sense.

It wasn't until I checked another app that I found out what happened. 

Truly horrific.

If you've seen any video of the event, you know what I mean. We're watching an elite athlete dying on a soccer pitch and men frantically trying to save his life. If you haven't seen the video, be careful. I will say, it'll change you...or it should.

I know it changed every person in that stadium. Europeans are crazy about their national soccer teams. I've experienced what it's like to be in Denmark when the national team beats another world power. There's nothing like it. Within seconds, none of that mattered, swept away like a fleeting summer storm. As the camera graciously panned from the nightmare on the field to those in the stands, the fans were stunned, sickened, changed.

The Danes had the highest of hopes entering the tournament. 42 minutes and 10 seconds later, no one cared about winning the tournament--or even the game--they worried about a player, a team leader, a fellow countryman and they prayed he would live.

Those prayers were answered.

I don't think I'll ever watch a Danish soccer game the same ever again.

Sometimes...You Just Need To Go To A Zoo

 We had a few hours to kill while in LA last week. We decided to go to a zoo. It's not something we do with much regularity (of course, that would not be the case if I worked at a zoo...). There's times when going to a zoo can be tough...when you have small kids, for example. Thankfully, this was not the case for us. It was hot, not too crowded, and I snapped several pictures of what I saw.

Enjoy.

When Your Son Takes A Picture...Of You Taking Pictures

 I was excited for Day 2 at the beach. I brought along my Nikon so I should be able to get some amazing shots of waves, rocks, birds, and other wildlife. When I got home, I shoved the SD card into the card reader and downloaded them all.

Almost every picture I took with the Nikon did not work out. Unbeknownst to me, a setting has been bumped and all the pictures looked completely washed out, the waves, the fisherman, the swimmers, and even the seal playing just off shore--all gone...

Bummer.

But, I thought a bad day of picture taking at the beach is better than a good day almost anywhere else. Plus, I had shot some great pictures on Beach Day 1 with my phone. Then, my son showed me a picture he took of me taking pictures.

I think it's one of my favorite pictures. The fact he took it on Father's Day = Bonus!

And I Would Drive 500 Miles...And I Would Drive 500 More

 The odometer registered a few ticks past 2100 miles. That's how many miles we put on the van between last Wednesday morning when we pulled out of the driveway at 4:15am and when we pulled into our driveway at 8:55pm this evening...

2100 miles...

In six days.

And we put the bulk of those miles--807 miles each way--in two days. We drove straight through Wednesday, and we drove straight home today.

I am, in a word, wiped out.

The last time we drove to California was in October, 2013. We decided to take a family trip before our oldest son went on his LDS mission. I remember stopping in Baker, California on the way home and I thought to myself that my son could be called to an area like Baker. A few weeks after we returned home from the vacation, my son opened his call and his mission included Baker, California. We had a good laugh over that.

On our vacation we visited family. We also took our daughter to a ballroom dance competition in Burbank. I'll be blogging about our adventures in the days--possibly weeks--to come. You'll probably get sick of hearing about it. But, it was a special trip that means a lot to us.

We're home now. We're beat. We're ready to hopefully get a good night's sleep. Today I drove 500 miles, and I almost drove 500 more. I'd do it all again tomorrow, if it meant being with family. 

Walking The 15th...

Tonight, a few of us walked the 15th hole on a golf course. The golfers were gone for the day, hopefully celebrating Father's Day with loved ones. The sun was setting in the west. A cool breeze blew off the Pacific and through the mountains until it kissed the roughs and fairways, sand traps and greens.

What a great night.

We lacked golf carts, or equipment. We carried no clubs or balls or gloves or tees. Instead, family members enjoyed the walk together, chatting about this and that, asking questions about the area, the course, life in general. In short, getting to know each other better, spending time together after years apart.

It's the best part of a vacation.

The Number 15 Hold is a Par 4, 390 yards from the far tee. We've been told it's one of the hardest holes on the entire course. I wouldn't know anything about that. And really, the difficulty of the hole makes no difference to us. The walk is the reward, the prize.

We returned, the sky darker, the chill in the air a little cooler. Tomorrow, more golfers will test their skill on the course, or just waste time. They'll never know for a short time, for a few lucky family members, the 15th hole was hallowed ground.

A Writer Friend's House Sign...

 Hands down, getting to know other authors is one of the best things about being involved in a writing community. Over the years, I've met so many writers--some, I've gotten to know quite well, others, I've met only a few times. Thanks to social media, I can follow them equally. One author I met not too often was from Colorado. He was attending the Salt Lake Comic Con (if could have been FanX, though...). I remember him being a very nice person...

Not unusual for a writer.

The other day he posted a picture, which fascinated me. It was about soliciting and Jesus. And it brought back a lot of memories.

Years ago, I was on a LDS mission, basically combining both those things...soliciting and Jesus. We actually went door-to-door trying to spread the good word message. Because of the area we were in, we were not very successful, as far as actually discussing Jesus. It was hard, but it's an experience I wouldn't trade for anything. It changed my life.

When I saw my friend's picture, I thought back about when I was knocking on doors on my mission. I can think of very few--if any--of the people we contacted who would have that particular sign on their door. Nope. No way. The last thing they'd hang outside their door was that sign. Just thinking about that gave me a new-found respect for my friend. Most people have "No Soliciting" signs to avoid not only door-to-door salespeople, but religious people as well. If he has that on his door, well...he's in for some discussions. I know if I saw that sign when I was serving, I'd have made a B-line to his door.

So...What RV Should We Get?

A few years ago my wife and I thought about what life would be like for us in a post-retirement world. One thing we think we'd like is an RV. Of course, a lot of things would have to happen before we get an RV. And if all those things did happen, we'd have to figure out just what kind of RV we'd get.

That's where I'm having a little bit of fun.

I've been finding pictures of outrageous RVs and sending them to my wife. The first one I found was a putt-putt RV. It looked like a telephone booth on three wheels. I have no idea what it was like inside, but I can't imagine there's much RV involved. I would, however, like to see what it looks like once you open up the back door...assuming there's a door on the thing.

The latest one I found today. I can't vouch for its authenticity, but having been alive for more than half a century, the fact that someone loaded an RV on the back of a car the way it looks like they did doesn't surprise me. That RV was not supposed to be a fifth-wheel. It could just be a funny internet picture--to make us believe someone would do this--either way, it made for a great text message.

Each time I posted the picture to my wife, I asked if this was the RV for us. Each time she responded it just might be.

Like I said, for this dream to actually happen, a lot of other things have to happen first. But, it's never too early to plan ahead...

Or to find funny RV pictures and send them to my wife.

Well...This Is New

 I had just under a quarter tank of gas when I pulled into the station earlier today. I filled the tank and when the gas stopped, I glanced at the total. Usually, I never look at the total. I did today.

That was new.

Back when gas prices were sky-high, we never went anywhere, so the gas crunch didn't affect us much. Times have changed. We're now driving a lot more--the closest Smiths or Walmart is at least 20 minutes away. The local Costco is twice that far. And, because we live in a new area, we've been exploring. We've taken a lot of Sunday drives in the past nine months, more than we did in years.

We're like most when prices rise on things we use. We'll adjust the budget, see if we need to change our habits, see how we're going to incorporate the new costs. It's definitely a challenge, but we'll make it work. If needs be, we'll drive less and buy things for two weeks instead of one, thus cutting that driving in half.

 I suppose we're lucky. We'll get through this. I wonder, though. There are many who have to take more drastic measures if this continues. That'll be tough. 

Yes, having that price look back at me was new. But, with all things, the newness will wear off and it will become ordinary. Last time, the price went down...

I wonder if that will happen again.

Riding In A Gasser '57 Chevy...

 Before today, I didn't know what a gasser car was. But, when you get to ride in a gasser '57 Chevy, you find out things.

This is the car in question. It's an unbelievable machine. When it was punched, I was shoved back into the car seat. I usually only feel that way when I'm in an airplane that's taking off. The car belongs to my brother-in-law (or, maybe his friend, or both--not quite sure...). I was asked if I wanted to check out the 57.

"Sure," I said.

I'm glad I did.

Apparently, there's lots of different styles for a car. A gasser is one like how they were built by enthusiastic car people in the 1950s. It's not "street," which is another type of way to modify a car.

Cars are my brother-in-law's and his friend's passion. I'm glad they have that passion and can show us who appreciate cars, but have not quite reached their level of car awesomeness. 

And I'm glad I decided to go check it out.

Will They...Or Won't They?

 I spotted the tent at dusk...it sat unattended, not drawing attention to itself, solitary. Of course, we knew exactly what it was. It's a lair, a place that offers wonders of science and chemistry, and potential destruction.

Still, it's existence begs the question...

Will they?

Or won't they?

There's a debate in our little part of the world. The debate comes around--without fail--at this time of the year, every year. Sometimes, one side seems to have the better argument over the other...then, the tables turn. I'd say, however, this year one side definitely has the advantage.

Which side is that?

The "all fireworks need to be banned" side.

Usually, this side protests the selling and igniting of fireworks with the "the fireworks are too loud," and "fireworks scare my pets," and "fireworks keep me up all night because idiots keep lighting them off well after midnight" chants. I for one believe these are all valid points. However, I also believe the since we're supposedly an enlightened society, the pro-firework and con-fireworks peoples should be able to live in harmony, each side giving a little until a consensus is reached.

This year, though...

The anti's have a lot more firepower (pardon the pun...). This year, we're lacking rain and snow before that. It's a drought year, one of the worst. And since many fires have already been caused by humans in the state, banning fireworks seems more reasonable than ever.

Still...

I feel for those who earn a living selling the chemical joy at what seems like every corner in the state. My opinion. Since we lived next to the mountains for decades, we were always banned from setting off fireworks. To us, it's no big deal not to have them. I guess that makes it easier to say skipping them this year might be the best thing. All I know is, they don't pay me the big $$ to make that decision so my opinion is worth about as much as you've paid to hear it. Whatever happens, I hope there's no fires because of them and that we get some much-needed rain soon.

Will they...or won't they?

The Enormity...Of Our Stores

We did a little shopping tonight. As family members perused through the almost countless things to buy at the store, I casually looked up.

If you can almost see the vanishing point while you're in a building...

That's a big building.

The store in question? Walmart. It's probably an average Walmart. There's sections for food as well as automotive. It has a garden center and a pharmacy. There's a bank, a nail salon, a Subway Sandwich shop, and a tire store. It is, in a word, enormous. I wondered, how did we get to this point?

The existence of these, and other, stores say a lot about our culture and our evolution. They exist because we've not only allowed them to be built, but demanded them. Even though this store is in America, it's really a world-wide concern. Countries, shipping routes, trade deals all have had to be involved in order for me to buy a t-shirt for $3.88.

I know books have been written, university classes are taught on how a store so big came to be. Still, as I took a break from shopping and glanced up, the thought of this mammoth source of commerce is staggering. It's truly a modern marvel. 

Give Thanks...Dogs

 Man's best friend.

I have no scientific proof to know if that statement is true, but I do know that dogs and humans have had a symbiotic relationship that has existed--I would imagine--since there's been dogs and humans. Tonight, the Westminster Dog Show is on TV. For some, I'll bet, the show represents everything that's wrong about humans and dogs. 

They have valid points.

But, as we watch our standard poodle--a dog we rescued--run around the house, chase toys, bark when the sprinklers start in the back yard, and lay down by us and place his head in our laps as we pet him, the TV show reminds us how much we love dogs.

A dog is the perfect companion animal, support animal, rescue animal, hunting animal, work animal. I challenge anyone to find better. I know many can't have dogs in their lives, or chose not to. That's their decision and I respect it. Having a dog is one of the great joys of life.

When I think of the phrase, "Man's best friend," I think I've always thought of it from the human's perspective. Are dogs really our best friends? But, when I think about it, maybe I should be looking at the phrase from the dog's point of view.

And when I do, it makes a lot more sense.

We're the dog's best friend.

That much, is obvious.

Gotta Support The Home Team...

 I've been searching for a certain article of clothing at our local thrift stores for a while. It's how I usually find things. I'll get it in my mind of what I want, then whenever we're near a thrift store, we'll go in and check to see if it's there.

I won't say now what that article of clothing is, but I will let you know if/when I find one (and one in my size...). Needless to say, the last time we went I did not find what I was looking for, but I found something else, a shirt emblazoned with the logo of the local high school's track team.

The Bear River Bears Track Team.

I thought it would be a good idea to pick it up.

I'm glad I did.

People around here are pretty loyal to the local school. It feels like it did when I attended Dear Ol' Davis High School. Back then, there were actual demarkations between Centerville (Viewmont), Farmington/Fruit Heights/Kaysville (Davis), and Layton (Layton). We were pretty proud to be Darts (still am...). Those to the south were proud to be Vikings, and to the north, Lancers. I know it's silly, but that's how it felt. When we left Davis County, there's almost no distinctions between those cities, and now Farmington has its own high school. I'm sure there are proud Phoenix there now.

I've worn the new shirt a lot. I wear it around town, and even though I have absolutely no connection to the school. Still, it makes me feel part of the community and maybe--even though people here have no idea who I am nor have they ever seen me before--I'm more accepted.

I was thinking, as I thought about this particular post, I have NO shirts or clothing bearing the Davis High or Dart logo. Living on the same street where I grew up I never needed to let people know where I attended. Maybe, I should have--when perusing the thrift stores in Davis County--picked up a shirt or jacket that told the world I attended Davis High School. In fact, having a Davis High Track shirt would be pretty cool.

Hats Off To Big-O Tires...Tremonton

 I don't blog enough about companies that offer great customer service--I should do it more.

This has been "take your car to get serviced" week for the Taylors. We took in the van on Monday, and my daughter's car in on Tuesday. They didn't have a part for our van on Monday so on Wednesday we took the van back in the shop.

Yes...that's a lot of trips.

The shop in question is a local Big-O Tires in Tremonton. Months ago we needed to get an oil change for my daughter's car. We chose them for no other reason than we knew where they were located. When we needed to get both cars serviced this week, we picked them again. They were prompt and what we were charged what appears to be fair. But, it was what they did today that really impressed me.

Yesterday--the first day this week we didn't have a car in the shop--we took the van into town. We noticed it pulled hard to the left. Granted, we had a strong wind from the west blowing the van, but it felt like the pull was from more than just the wind. It also was a little bumpy at higher speeds. This morning without wind, it did the same thing. We were bummed because we had spent a lot on the van this week already...the last thing we wanted was to spend even more (actually, the last thing would be to have an unsafe vehicle...).

I called Big-O this morning and told them what was going on. Mark said, "Bring it in--we'll take a look." We brought in the van and the parking lot was packed. They had a ton of work to do, but he said it was no problem--they'd get it looked at today. We picked up the van hours later--no charge. But did it fix the problem. A quick drive on the Interstate and...no pull and the bump was better, too.

No, I don't blog enough about companies that offer great customer service--I should do it more.

A Touch Of History...In A Small Town's Park

 I took a break earlier this week and took my son to a local city park to play with some friends. I moved to a small town. The city where this city park is located makes our small town seem big by comparison. It's called Riverside and it's a beautiful place. Of course, during the morning we went to the park, it was a glorious day.

My son and I waited for others to show up. I noticed a monument. I like monuments, especially when I'm waiting for others to show up. The monument was built so that others...like me...would know that at one time there stood a school, a brick-and-mortar building that--according to the plaque--was a special place, a place that provided learning for those attending and memories for past students.

Those are the best buildings.

I guess the only thing remaining of the school is a bell, a bell once housed in a belfry, a bell that signaled to students, teachers, and parents of the school's schedule. The bell's seen better days. No doubt the bell will never again be used for the purpose for which it was created. It's retired from that job. But, not retired from work. The bell's new job is that of a symbol, a way to remember something valued by the community.

Unfortunately, I cannot travel back in time to see the building or hear the bell's ring. I can, however, remember my first years of public schooling. I attended a school that had an expansion built to the original structure. The "new" portion of the school was built in the 1920s. I went to that school for three years before a new brick-and-mortar school was built and the old school torn down. I can relate to the feelings forever etched into the plague at the Riverside park.

Though we didn't have a bell at Farmington Elementary, a bell that can now be put on display, the long-gone school still generates memories.

Anyone Have A Copy Of "Guitar Hero III: Legends Of Rock" They'd Like To Offload...?

I've blogged about video games I've played and currently played before. I don't consider myself much of a player when it comes to those games, not like I used to be, and no where close to my boys and their games. But there was one game...one now very "dated" game both my wife and I loved.

Guitar Hero, specifically, Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock.

And years ago we turned in that game for a refund and got less than a dollar for it.

What a shame.

Now, we're on the hunt to capture the magic again.

There was a time when it seemed like everyone played either Guitar Hero or Rock Band. I can't say we preferred one over the other...we only bought the Activision version. But, as things do sometimes, the game fell out of favor. Maybe it got too big too fast. They came out with drums and vocals to accompany the guitars to spice up the game. Eventually, it sort of died. I believe there was a resurrection attempt, but I don't believe that lasted very long.

The reason we want to find the game again is because of my wife's playlist on Spotify. We do more driving now, and when we drive, we play the playlist. There are many songs on that playlist that were also include in the Guitar Hero III game. Hearing the songs made us miss the game so we're looking for it.

If you've got a copy of the Wii game and you'd like to give it a new loving home, let me know. We just may be that home it deserves.  

The First Rose...

 My wife spotted them first, two rose bush starters at Costco...not necessarily known for its vegetation. Maybe it is for some, but when I think "Costco," I'm usually not thinking about plants.

But there they were.

And later, they were planted in front of our porch.

Yesterday, I snapped a picture of our first rose bud.

If you've read previous blogs, you know me and yard work don't mix. I am, however, finding myself doing more yard work this spring than I have possibly ever done before in my life. Okay...that may be an exaggeration, but it sure feels that way.

I'm never sure if what we plant is going to survive. The first fruit tree we planted didn't. Then again, we've learned a lot since then. We planted three more trees and they seem to be doing well--I mean, they're still alive after a few months, so I'd say they're doing well (much better than the first tree...).

We have plans for more, more trees, more plants, more flowers. It's only our first spring here. Hopefully, as time goes on, we'll get more green at the Eggnog House.

Things A Hat Might Tell You...If A Hat Could Speak

 If you do an image search for businessmen attire in the first half of the twentieth century, there's a good chance those businessmen were wearing hats...

I wonder if they even liked hats.

I don't think it mattered either way. Men wore hats, bowlers, fedoras, porkpies, panamas, to name a few. They were as integral to a man's wardrobe as a tie or a white shirt or even shoes.

Times have changed.

And, personally, I'm sad...I LOVE those hats.

But, I like hats in general, for both fashion, but mostly practical reasons. I've mentioned on this blog many times that I wear hats in the winter to keep my head warm and in the summer to keep my skin from burning off. Hats are also integral to my wardrobe. Take, for example, the hat I wear working in the yard. We're now in summer and that means higher temperatures brought on by more sun. I wore my hat last week as we moved rocks--lots of rocks--for landscaping in our front lawn. And when laundry day came around, I tossed in the hat so it could be returned to its original clean state.

That was needed.

If my yard work hat could speak, it might say it appreciated being outside, but I may be pushing it a bit. And it would definitely want to be washed more. I'll try to accommodate it in the future. Heck...I'd like it to stay clean and pristine in the garage. My many baseball hats might accuse me of favoritism (which I definitely am...I like hats that are red and sport a big "U" on them...). I have a couple of hats I wear in the winter, but since I've been working from home, I haven't been standing on a platform in a blizzard waiting for the train to come, and therefore, not needing my winter hats. They're probably the most mad at me...

And would have the most to say.

Give Thanks...A Place Of Honor

 We moved from Farmington last fall--we sold our house and family land...

But, we didn't sell ALL our land.

We still own--or stake claim to--a small spot of ground. It's too small to live on. In fact, we cannot live there. We can only use the land when we're no longer living. It's our burial plot in the incredibly beautiful Farmington City Cemetery. Currently, my folks are there, as are many many of my friends's parents. And, as time goes on, I have friends there, too.

It's a place of honor.

I'm glad it exists.

For many, a cemetery is literally a waste of space. I can understand why they think that. It's huge spaces that are only used for one thing. They require taxpayer money to keep them clean, mowed, and watered. As communities grow, more and more land is required for loved ones's final resting places. By many standards, it makes more sense to just cremate everyone.

But, I'm glad they exist. Part of our humanity is how we deal with death and honor those who have gone before. When I go to the cemetery, I remember my parents...two people who adopted three babies and raised them as their own. So much of what I am (and, by extension, what my wife and children are...) exist because of the people whose remains are buried in the earth just east of the upper road in Farmington, Utah. I suppose, I could have those same memories with their ashes on a mantel. 

But, setting land aside as a monument of those people...it shows a dedication of the living for the dead. It says to society the memories of those people are worth the money, the real estate value, the water for the grass that it takes to keep up a cemetery...that honor is worth it.

Yes, we still have our little plot of land, too small for even the tiniest houses, but big enough to do the job. I'm glad it's there...both the plot and the cemetery.