The Year That's Been...

 We snapped this picture a year ago today...

What a year it's been.

A lot of things happened in 2020--both to our family and the world--and probably the most amazing was when I pulled up my Ancestry.com account and saw a close DNA match...not just close, sibling-close. Turns out, I found my half-sister. We began corresponding and on the last day of July, 2020, she and her good friend came to visit.

I always knew I had a sister that I'd never met. The little paperwork about my adoption included information that my birth mother had a daughter five years older than me. When I first saw the DNA results, I thought that's who I had found. Turns out, my new-found sister is a few years younger than me. 

It was sort of surreal meeting Kim for the first time. My family noticed subtle things she did that reminded them of me, of things my kids would do. That was sort of surreal, too. We knew we were moving and we were prepping the house to be sold. When I found my sister lived relatively close--one state over--I hoped we'd be able to visit her in the coming year, but that didn't happen. Too bad. Still, we hope to make that long drive one day soon.

In the past twelve months, I've learned more about my sister. She's a kind, caring, warm person who wants the world to be a better place and works heard to make that goal a reality. 

When I was born, the only way for us to find each other would be for our birth mother (which we share...) to have allowed those closed records to be opened. Now, technology allows us to go around that and find the truth. It would, however, be nice to know who our mother is...we still haven't found out that yet. Maybe one day.

One year, twelve months, three-hundred and sixty-five days...

The year that's been.

Considering Flipping Some Property...? Give Amanda And Jared A Call

 In the fall of 2000, my then five-year old son and I decided to audition for a community theater production of Scrooge. Thus began an incredible period of my life that has brought experiences and memories I'll hopefully cherish forever. Another thing I'll cherish is the relationships forged and friendships made. Not only are the people on stage amazingly talented, but so are the talents they have when not on the stage.

Case in point, Amanda and Jared Morgan.

I've been fortunate to share the stage with both of them. They're both wicked talented in their singing, dancing, and acting skills, but what they can do to refurbish and transform a room (or an old camper trailer...), is almost more impressive.

I came across a  Facebook post from this couple. They are looking for investors with which they can work to transform existing properties and turn them into spectacular works of art. I've only included one photo from that Facebook post, but there are more to see, and if you're seriously in need of people with their particular talents, give them a call. Or, even if you need project that needs a hand and you're in the area, they might be perfect for those tasks, too.

Yes, in those twenty-plus years on the stage, I've meet many impressive people. Amanda and Jared are prime examples of what I'm talking about.

In Their Bones...

 We've been watching the Olympics...

I know the whole world's change and had not the events of 2020 hit, the games would have happened twelve months earlier, but would have been viewed and perceived much differently. Unfortunately, this didn't happen and so we watch what we watch.

Writing about sports is an honor. Sports, unlike almost everything else is defined by the fact that someone wins and by definition...someone--or everyone else--doesn't. Athletes are exposed...we see their strengths, their faults...it's not for the thin-skinned, not to mention you must be stronger, faster, smarter, luckier to win, and even with all those things, it sometimes doesn't happen. 

There's no better arena to see this on display than the Olympics. Every athlete has a story, every event...a book of chapters where the stories are collected and given to us, the consumer, the reader, the fan. And if you dig deep enough, you can see the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Today, though, I saw the magnificent. 

It represented everything that's good.

If you want to see how the Fiji Mens Rugby team honored their team, their sport, and their country, click: HERE. Just watching and hearing these men, you can tell, they felt it in their bones.

And it was beautiful. 

Remember Lane Cedar Chests...?

 It's funny how seeing something can unleash a flood of memories, and how we think the way we grew up is shared by everyone. Today, as I perused the aisles of a local thrift store, I came across a Lane cedar chest just sitting among discarded items.

Just looking at it reminded me of my mom, and the Lane cedar chest she had for decades.

Of course, my mom's looked nothing like this one. Her's was larger and wood-grained on the outside. It was very pretty and it stood at the foot of her bed as long as I could remember. I also remember sitting on it as we watched TV in her room with she and my siblings. We would congregate in her room, mostly in the winters with a kerosene heater in the corner. We did this because it cost money to heat the rest of the house and with the heater warming the master bedroom, we didn't even have to turn up the heat. That was back when families had maybe two TVs in the house...possibly more, but why would you need more than one TV, especially when there were only three networks, no cable, and no VCRs?

I only remember looking inside her cedar chest a few times. If I remember correctly (and, there's a good chance I don't...), she had some items from her wedding, and some other things that meant a lot to her. 

Since my mom had one of these, I just assumed every mother had one in their homes. And they passed them down to their daughters, and so on and so on. Apparently, that's not the case. We don't have one in our house, and because I left the Lane cedar chest sitting on the thrift store floor, maybe someone will pick it up and begin a new tradition for their family.

It's been just over fourteen years since my mom passed, and I don't know what happened to that particular piece of furniture. Most likely my sister has it, at least, I hope so. Funny, how seeing something in a thrift store can bring back those memories.

You Never Know What You're Going To Get...

 We tried a new restaurant last week...

You never know what you're going to get.

There are fewer places to eat in this new town of ours. We were spoiled living among the millions, at least as far as food choices went. Within thirty miles of our house, we could find almost any type of food--not that we tried every kind of food, but knowing we had the options...that's what counted.

When I say it was a "new" place, I mean that in more ways than one. It was new for us--our first time, but also a new for them. I believe they've only been open a few months, if that.

You're probably wondering, how was it?

It was...okay.

That's the thing about trying something new. I don't know how much the newness affected our opinion. Did we anticipate it being better than it was? Did we give the restaurant an unfair bias before even one morsel of food was consumed? 

Maybe.

Plus, it was a Mexican restaurant...and that's hard to get right, or east to not get right.

Will we return? Possibly. Too soon to tell, I suppose. Since there's not a lot of places to eat up here, we might. I guess next time we go, we'll have a better idea of what we're going to get.

Man...How I Love This Film

 Part of my workday routine is to take a few minutes and step away from the computer, the monitors, and the phone. I leave my home office behind and venture into the garage...where our home gym is located. Lately, even though I work out somewhat early in the day, it still gets warm in our non-temperature- regulated space. There's one thing, however, that I really enjoy while I bike, walk, ellipse, that takes my mind away from the temperature...

And that's dropping in a DVD and watching a few minutes of a movie or TV series.

The latest feature that helped get me though the heated sessions...the Coen Brother's True Grit. I love that film.

For the most part, I enjoy almost all the Coen Brother's films. I can see why they're not everyone's cup of tea. I know there's a lot of elements that make up a film--even a bad film. What sets these particular brothers's film apart--for me--is the writing. I absolutely love their writing.

In True Grit their style of writing fits perfectly with the genre. I think the panoramic views in the original True Grit are better. I haven't seen it in a while, but I remember those incredible Southern Utah vista...it's hard to beat, really. The views from the re-make seem more real, more barren, more desolate. It's fitting for the story.

As I watched the last part of the film and before the credits rolled, I was still amazed at the simple language choices. Since I did not live in the western United States at the turn of the twentieth century, I cannot say for certain that the manner in which they spoke in the movie is an accurate reflection of the language and speaking style of the time. But, even if not, it sure sounds good. Watching the film again, I was reminded at how much I enjoyed the words, the sentences, the verbal sparing, the way all these elements helped to make this a great film.

Give Thanks...Community

 We experienced Tremonton City Hay Days for the first time. We had a great day. Since it was a new experience for us, we didn't know what to expect. Well...that's not entirely true. We came from a close-knit community and they had a community celebration, too. Pretty sure all communities have do this. It brings the residents closer together. It's important.

And I'm so grateful that it happens.

We started the day at the park enjoying a free breakfast. We saw vendors and several classic cars. We also saw a baby contest and diaper derby. Since we have attended the same type of event in Farmington for decades, I expected things to be pretty much the same. They were, and they weren't. The biggest change was the number of people enjoying the events. In short, we were able to find a parking spot close to the park and walk around without being surrounded by people.

One of the coolest parts of the day is when we went to the Bear River Museum where they put on a quilt show. The quilts were amazing (I found MY favorite...), but I loved seeing all the other things, the recreation of a pioneer school, a dentist's office, a doctor's office, and a typical home kitchen. I've seen that kitchen before...at my Grandpa Knight's house.

The evening ended with a fireworks display. It's been a while since we've been to one that close. It wasn't the best display we've seen, but it didn't need to be. It was a way to close the day by the city saying, "thank you" to its residents with beautiful lights and exploding booms that echoed across the valley.

Even though we know hardly anyone here, it didn't matter. We felt welcomed as we walked the park and the museum and watched the pretty colors in the sky. It felt like home.

Celebrating A State Holiday...

 The flag...was huge. Of course, "huge" is a relative term. It was bigger than the flags people have at their homes, but smaller than the flags unfurled at the Super Bowl. However when you stand under under the fabric as it moves and flows in a strong wind, it's impressive.

In large cities and small towns across our state, communities celebrated not a date when a state was born, but a day that a group of weathered, haggard, and expelled pioneers entered a desolate valley and called it home.

July 24, 1847.

A lot's changed since then.

That was 174 years ago today. The first time I experienced this holiday (even though I was not yet one-year old...), the holiday was only 119 years old.

A lot's changes since 1966, too.

My family went to the celebration in our little town. At the east end of the park, a large flag was tied between tall pillars. Because of a strong north wind, the flag was not majestically hanging as a backdrop to the event, but it was almost perpendicular to the ground. I walked to it and snapped several pictures and took a video. It struck me that even though it wasn't displayed as intended, it was beautiful just the same.

I know, for some, it's not popular to love where you're from, but I do. I loved seeing the flag flying this morning. I hope the tradition continues for generations to come.

The Week Of Digital Meetings...

 This past week I spent several hours in front of my computer. This isn't all that unusual. Other than sleeping, I spend more time in front of computer screens than any other single activity. Only this week, it was a little different in this one way...I spent many hours engaged in digital meetings.

Tuesday, I met with a co-worker asking questions about how to better do a job. It lasted about thirty minutes. Later that day, I had a one-on-one meeting with my boss. We have those every month and they last about an hour. I enjoy those meetings...most things about working in an office I do not miss, but hanging out with good people while doing my job, that made the job much more fun. Having one-on-one meeting sort of reminds me of the good times.

After work, I logged into a production meeting for the upcoming FanX. It was like a work meeting, but also not. We chatted for several hours discussing how to make next September meeting as good as possible. It was time well spent.

The following day, I had yet another work digital meeting--our regular weekly staff meeting and that added even more time on top of the other digital meetings I already attended.

The entire world changed last year. Being able to work at home and have digital meetings allowed us to make life-altering changes for our family, changes I never thought I'd make. I don't recall, in the past year and a half, having so many meetings as I had in those two days. Personally, I do like it, but it can be taxing. But, if this is our future, I'm good.

It's Like I Don't Even Know Them...

 A community that has a strong sense of community proves this allegiance in several ways...one of which is creating social media sites where residence of said community can gather and interact. Case in point, there are several Facebook sites dedicated to Farmington, Utah.

I can think of no finer town to honor in this way.

In fact, I am still part of a couple of these sites. There's one that has "historical" in the name of the group. That's sort of more for those who live in the original town center, at least, that's the impression I got when I joined. We were considered in that part of town. There's also one that encompasses the church congregation where we lived. These community sites serve an important function--they inform, they educate, they bring an already close community closer together.

I saw a new one the other day, one I'd never seen before. It's a closed group and even though I no longer live within the town boundaries, I asked to join. They granted my wish. The posts started coming in and I realized right away this is an active group. On an average day several people post.

I found out something else, too, after seeing all the posts.

I don't know anyone in the group, at least, I don't know anyone who is posting things.

Even though I lived in this small-turned-bigger town for half a century, I knew there were so many people I don't know, so many I've never met, but joining the group drove that point home.

I'm still glad I'm a member. Even though I don't know many of the people (or, it just seems that way...), I like keeping in touch with the town...that connection is still there. Plus, it reminds me that I'm no longer a resident, but I still care for those who are.

Those Swedes...And Their Sense Of Humor

 It was an afterthought, really. I almost missed it. Tucked away in an unoccupied section of a large put-it-together-yourself furniture store was a section of non-furniture items. 

I found myself in the food section.

And there was no one else there.

What's strange is, the main reason I was at the put-it-together-yourself furniture store in the first place was for the food. 

People go to the huge Ikea super centers for many reasons. I went for lunch. Decades ago I lived in a country just south and west of Sweden, but much of their food is the same and it's good food...good enough for me to travel quite out of my way for it. After lunch, my friend and I wanted to buy some of their famous Swedish meatballs so we went downstairs and searched them out. Because it was on a weekday, it was not very crowded. There was actually no one in that section and we rooted around looking for the frozen deliciousness. 

That's where I spotted the chocolate moose.

If you'd like to watch a video demonstration from the company's website, click: HERE. Personally, I thought the confection hilarious. Who says Swedes don't have a sense of humor? Not me...I personally know several Swedes and I found them not un-funny. But seriously, they are amazingly warm and caring (and beautiful...) people. They make a delicious meatball and a funny moose.

So, if you're in an Ikea store and you'd like something that will make your day a little bit more fun, just look around the food section at the checkout...it'll be worth your time.

Yeah...Yeah...Pretty Much How I Feel

 I have a sister who lives in Phoenix...I really can't imagine what it's like living there in the summers. Today she and I had a little chat via text messages and I asked her how she was doing. She said she was ready for things to cool down. She's lived in Arizona all her life so this is nothing new--it's part of the deal of having wonderful winters.

Of course, change is always an option.

I've made my opinion clear on this blog before about how I feel about excessive heat. In short, I'm not a fan. I must admit...this spring I spent more time outside than I have in several years. We had work to do. But, as the season changed from spring to summer, the temperatures went up and up. There's more work we'd like to do, but we end up going out after 8pm because of the heat. It's soul-sucking.

My sister and I chatted about people's attitudes concerning the heat. She said there are a lot of people who tell her that they LOVE the heat. It's a good thing they live in Phoenix then. I hear that where I live, too, even though it's not as hot and we get snow in the winter. Both my sister and I have a similar reaction when people tell us how much they love the heat...I mean, we're glad for them, but just because they like it hot, doesn't mean we all do.

My sister has never lived in a place with snow. It would be cool (pun intended...) if she were to relocate in the great northern areas. In my opinion, there are few things more beautiful than a newly fallen blanket of snow as you sit inside by a fire sipping a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter's night. Maybe all those sun worshipers can move south and some of those who do not like the temperatures of hell as much as they do can take their place up here...it'll probably never happen, but one can dream.

Do You Know The Color Of...Your Fiancee's Eyes?

 I posted a picture a while back of me...I try not to post a lot of pictures of myself, but I caught my reflection in the mirror and noticed the color of the shirt I was wearing almost perfectly matched the color of my eyes. I may have heard somewhere that different colors can influence a person when the look at another's eye color. Some colors make your eyes "pop." I think that's what happened with the shirt.

But, it got me thinking...thinking of a memory...an almost twenty-nine-year old memory...a memory of a bridal shower.

I've not attended many bridal showers. I believe this was the only one. My fiancee and I were engaged and the wedding was set for September. That summer we did the normal "pre-wedding" things like get registered, book a photographer, send out invitations (by mail, if you can believe it...), and there were even a couple of bridal showers set up for my wife. One of which, I was invited to attend.

So, I did.

What I remember about the party was good. We had fun. There was one section, though, that made me a little nervous when I heard about it...the dreaded "How well do you know your fiancee?"  questions game. I can't remember how many questions they asked, but I do remember one...they asked me--without looking at her--what color were my fiancee's eyes. I knew the answer, and I was glad that I knew it.

I said, "Blue."

Blue was, of course, the correct answer, but the reason I remember this particular question and have forgotten all the others since then is how my fiancee answered the question.

She began by saying I had blue eyes (which was also correct...), but then she expounded. She said they were blue with a little gray and she kept going. As I sat and listened I realized that my simple "blue" answer was, well...not all that informative. It was, in fact, pretty "meh." That's when I thought to myself, "Uh oh. I'd better pay more attention to things." It was another realization for me that women and men are indeed different.

I don't know if I've paid attention to more things in the almost three decades since that little get-together. Maybe in some ways I have, but not in all things. I do know, however, that my wife's eyes are still blue...

And still beautiful.

Give Thanks...Good Neighbors--And A Lot Of Rocks

 Moving can be scary. Flat out, one-hundred percent. There are many things that can make it scary, one of which is who you're going to live next to...the neighbors. And to add to the equation, we had the best neighbors where we used to live--and not just because I personally chose (or persuaded...) many of them to live next to us. No, they are top-notch, quality families. We love them and it was tough leaving that street because of it.

I think our moving experience was unique. The pandemic created its own unusual situations, and almost everyone in our neighborhood was new. The people were friendly, but we rarely saw anyone. People were "encouraged" to not interact with each other. Thankfully, we did so anyway.

A new home means a new yard. The builders gave us a finished house, but they left the yard to us. We've been working like dogs in the yard since the spring, but there was one thing we could not do by ourselves. Well...we could, but it would have taken us months to do it.

Move tons of rocks.

When we put in our sprinkler system, we didn't want anything to grow on the north side of the house or the park strips. We looked into buying landscape rocks and having them delivered, but when we saw huge piles of rocks in our neighbor's back yards, we had an idea, and after speaking with those neighbors, we came up with a plan. Move the rocks to our lot.

Our neighbor Gary offered to move the rocks for us. For just over a week he drove his skid steer from his house to the rock piles to our house where he dumped them and we placed them where we wanted them to go. So much work. Yet, our neighbor brought load after load and when we discussed payment--he would have none of it.

We've only been here less than a year and the more we get to know our neighbors, the more blessed we feel. We're grateful that they've welcomed us and made us feel a part of their community. Good neighbors and rocks...sometimes they're related.

The Logan Hobby Lobby Is...In My Opinion...The Most Hobbyist Lobbiest Ever

 I've been in half a dozen Hobby Lobby Stores in my life, give or take, so this particular "take" may not be verifiable. But, in my opinion, I think the Hobby Lobby store in Logan, Utah is the most Hobby Lobby of them all.

You may be asking yourself, "Have I ever been in that Hobby Lobby?" Fair question. I guarantee you, if you love--or even mildly enjoy--crafts, you'd remember it. It is amazing. It's as big as a Walmart and it's full...full of stuff you want and so much more of the stuff you didn't know you wanted.

My wife has visited this store several times, but I entered the air-conditioned awesomeness for the first time last Saturday. We actually returned today and I snapped a couple of pictures. I didn't take any pictures last week because I think I was so overwhelmed I forgot.

Okay, okay...maybe I'm being too over-the-top about this store. But, in my defense, I don't think I was prepared. Most Hobby Lobby stores are adequate, but not very big. They have most of the things we usually need. I thought this one was the same as the others. My wife told me as we walked in last week that the one in Logan was special. She was right.

So, if you're driving on Main Street and you're in the north part of Logan, search it out. If you're a crafty person, I think you'll be impressed with the store, too.

So...I Want To Build A Little Free Library

 You've seen them...or maybe you haven't. They're called Little Free Libaries and they dot the map of many communities. There are a few where we used to live, and after a quick internet search, there are no little free libraries in the new town in which we now live, at least, not one registered in the LittleFreeLibrary.Org website.

I'd like to change that.

I think deciding you want to build and install one of these things is the "easy part." Because there's a lot of new construction around us, I've gathered some building materials and stowed it in our garage waiting for me to take action. What's holding me up is...

What kind of little free library should I make?

There's as many different kinds as there are people, which makes sense It is an expression of the person making it. The supplies I've gathered will be adequate for a simple version. I'm thinking that's what I'll most likely end up doing. After all, I can always make another one in the future. Then again, it might be so much work, I may never want to do it again...time will tell.

Some of the ideas are genius. I've picked just a few and included them here. If I had the time and talent and means, I would LOVE to build a Tardis little free library if for one reason...it would be bigger on the inside. To me, books make the world--and universe--bigger.

I'm in the early early stages. Hopefully, I can update everyone on this blog as thing progresses. For now, the decision's been made. On with the show!

Things You See Out Your Window...Cars And A Big Truck

 Since I work at home, I'm fortunate enough to have a window in my office. Yes, it was originally designed as a bedroom window when the house was built, but for me, it's an office window. Through my window I see the Rocky Mountains and the valley that separates me from them. I also see a stubbed road, a road that will eventually lead to new homes and new neighborhoods.

But this afternoon, the view outside looking east I saw something I don't see everyday...a big truck and a lot of cars.

I found out last week my neighbor was selling his corvette. It's a beautiful car in pristine condition. He put an ad on the internet and someone from the east coast decided that vette was the car for him. Today, a truck came and loaded it up. As I worked, I watched the process of loading (and unloading...) take place. To be honest, it was kind of interesting.

Because of the way the truck was parked, we couldn't tell just how long it was, but we know that they took off two cars on top, loaded the corvette, the put the two cars back. Below the cars filled the trailer. That's a lot of cars. I think I saw a Porsche loaded in front of where the vette ultimately ended up.

It took a while, but after they tucked the corvette safely away, they loaded the Lotus, then the classic (and incredible...) BMW 2002. The truck then backed up and drove away.

I have no idea if all these cars are going to the same buyer back east. It's possible, but it's also possible they are a service to deliver cars to different people. I could look out of that window every day for the rest of my life. There's a very good chance, I'll never see what I saw today again.

Good-Bye Daryl Building...

 I didn't see the smoke, but my family did as they returned home from a trip down south. The Daryl Building, built in 1930 (according to the internet...), caught fire and was destroyed.

What a shame.

I'm new to this city...I have no memories of that particular building and very few memories of any of the other buildings that line Main Street. Projecting from my youth, I was sad to see the Farmington A/G grocery store, the Tom Boy Cafe, the old elementary school on the hill, the old library--go the way of all the earth, and I'd be sadder still if the one-time fire station-now-museum or the Rock Hotel Dental building were to no longer be there. I can only imagine how those who have lived in this community for decades feel about the loss.

What's interesting, though, is that fire has a way of cleansing whatever it touches. Just as a forest requires a fire for re-birth, so will the corner of Main Street and First West. The old will be loaded in trucks and hauled off. When it's financial advantageous, someone will take that corner and build anew. It's sad to see something old be replaced, but a new building brings with it new opportunities, new memories for generations to come.

I suppose the same could be said for the forest that has been destroyed, but nature finds a way to make whatever it creates beautiful. Many think buildings are not beautiful, or most buildings, anyway. I beg to differ...the Daryl was pretty cool.

When It Hits Home...

 I should say at the onset that 2020 did not affect me or my family to the degree that it did others. We escaped 2020 almost unscathed. It is something we are eternally grateful for. I--thankfully--was able to keep my job, a job where I was already working from home. We were able to shop and get everything we needed...we never wanted.

I personally know those who were not so lucky. They lost jobs, and more devastatingly, lost loved ones, parents, children, siblings. For many 2020 was a living hell...and 2021 is more of the same.

But, when things don't impact a person directly, that person forgets the tragedies experienced by others. I know that's what's happened to me, at times.

A few weeks ago my wife and I did some shopping at our local Walmart. I noticed the Subway Restaurant located inside the store was closed. They posted their new hours...they were scaling back. I thought it was most likely due to staffing issues, or maybe even changing in eating patterns from the public. Then, the next time we entered the store, a new sign was posted on the door and the restaurant was gutted.

THANK YOU FOR 16 YEARS OF PATRONAGE

SUBWAY

Now, I have no idea why this particular business closed, but I would guess that had not the pandemic hit last year, there's a good chance the business would have seen Year 17 and beyond. Seeing that sign sort of punched me in the gut in a way. It was personal. 

I hope the owners and workers have found new opportunities. I hope also those others adversely affected by the events of the last year can find some comfort.

Apples, Apples...And More Apples

 If you're familiar with Northern Utah, you've most definitely driven past the Famous Fruit Way. If you're going north on I-15, you exit just after Smith and Edwards and drive toward Willard, Utah. If you're driving south on I-15, you exit at Brigham City, drive into down, and turn south.

Believe me...if you're looking for fresh fruit and vegetables, it's a hard road to pass up.

Last week as we headed home from down south, we veered off I-15 and drove up the famous motorway. We stopped at several places, but in one cooler in one fruit stand, I snapped a picture...a picture of apples. But, what impressed me enough to take the picture was the different varieties. You normally don't see that anymore.

They had Gaja, Red Delicious, Sugar Bee, Fuji, Envy, Cripps Pink, Honeycrisp, Golden Delicious, and Breaburn. Utah is not known for its apples and I don't know for sure if all of those different kinds of apples were local, but the point was, they were there. I don't normally shop for apples at the grocery store. I'm most certainly wrong, but I think there may be a half a dozen different varieties in the store.

I remember listening to a podcast years ago--I can't remember which one--and they discussed this very thing. They said because of how our food distribution systems evolved, there are hundreds of different apple varieties that we never see. I thought about that when I walked into that room.

This was just one section of one fruit stand on a ten-mile stretch of road. There's a lot more to explore...maybe other apple types as well.

Give Thanks...The Piper's Story

 We parked the van and saw the canopy and open grave waiting for the casket that would arrive soon. 

We also saw a lone man standing back, in the shade, dressed in a kilt and playing "the bones," his bagpipes. It made total sense. My cousin's first husband Zach, was as Scottish as a man not born in Scotland could be. Our family gathered at that same exact spot December 2008...to an open grave where kilted men and bagpipes prepared to say good-bye.

I thought, it must be a friend of Zach's saying good-bye to Zach's sweetheart.

I was right, but then again, there was more to the story.

At the end of the graveside service, the piper explained why he--and others--play at funerals. He said the piper's song allowed the spirit to (I'm paraphrasing, he was much more eloquent...) leave those gathered at the grave and continue on. The music gave permission, in a way, to depart...a bittersweet explanation.

He then played his song, Going Home.

We watched him walk away as he played. The music stopped. He stowed the bagpipes in his truck then started off. Before he left the cemetery, I flagged him down. I wanted to thank him for what he did. Bagpipe music meant so much to our family when Zach passed and when Zach himself played his bagpipes seventeen-months earlier at my mom's graveside service.

The piper stopped. I thanked him. I asked if he knew Zach. He said he was one of the people who taught Zach how to play the bagpipes decades earlier. He then told me that he was asked to play at this funeral, but he did not know who it was he was being honored. He did not recognize Kris's name because she had re-married. When he found out the person who passed was Zach's wife, it meant so much to him. Years earlier, the piper had planned to play at Zach's internment, but he had emergency surgery the day before the funeral and spent that day watching the snow fall wishing he could say good-bye to his friend.

Even though it was over twenty years late, at a funeral last week he finally did.

Who Knew...Stopping To Look At A Multimedia Art Table Could Lead To A Ten Minute Chat With Santa?

 My wife and I did a little shopping this afternoon. We stopped at the Logan Utah Hobby Lobby--a finer craft store does not exist. It was there I spotted a multimedia art table we thought might be something our daughter might want.

I stopped to look at it (there were actually two models...) and that's when I heard someone say, "That's what Santa wants for Christmas."

That's not something you hear everyday.

I turned and standing in the aisle was a man, with a broad face and a round little belly. The full beard gave it away...this was Santa (off-season Santa, of course...). We ended up chatting for about ten minutes. He talked about things he told kids as a symbol of Christmas. He also told me of possible Christmas plans in the grand hamlet of Logan this coming winter.

Sounds like fun.

No, it's not everyday you run into Santa (off-season Santa, of course...) at a craft store in Northern Utah. But, when it happens, it's fun.

The Small...But Mighty...Harvest.

 My parents grew up during the Great Depression. They knew something about taking care of themselves, and what I mean by that is growing their own food. Thankfully, I've never had to depend on the sweat of my brow--literally--to eat. I'm one of the generations that has not had to produce their own food. I doubt there's ever been another time in the history of the planet where a majority of humans did NOT have to grow their own food to survive.

I'm no historian, but I think that's right.

Still, even though we don't need to do it, there's something about putting that small plant or seed into the ground, giving it light, heat, and water, and watching edible fruits and vegetables grow. It's like a miracle. 

If you've read my post for very long, you know I'm not a "yard work" person. I'm thinking this might be changing--time will tell, but I can say that ever since my son and daughter-in-law surprised us with a garden while we were out of town, each time I look out the window at the simple humble garden, I smile.

A few days ago, the first harvest--an undersized tomato--was brought in. This morning I snapped a picture of a few peppers, complete with ant. I know they're small, but even the grandest garden began small. It's a place we all start. I'm sure we'll have more to come from the plants, and even though the first harvest barely registers, we know that won't always be the case.

When GPS Lets You Down...

 Good thing I had a whole afternoon with no particular place to be, because if I did, I would have been late, or not shown up at all.

I blame GPS.

Of course, I could blame other factors...it's just easier to blame "Big GPS" for my troubles.

Last week we needed help with our garden. We were excited to set up a drip line system for our newly-built garden. I knew where the nursery was so I headed out, but on my way I wanted to stop by the city's municipal complex. We were told we could buy planting soil the city created for its residents.

I looked up the address, enlisted the help of SIRI, then started out. I drove to where SIRI said the facility was located...

Nope.

So, I enlisted a higher authority...my wife...to send me the address thinking I must have not have entered the correct address. She sent me a "valid" address, so I once again entered the address for SIRI, I put the car into gear and headed out, confident of my eventual success.

If you're unaware of Northern Utah, there are huge tracks of land where few venture and fewer live. I thought having a facility that provided the service we were looking for would be advantageous for the community--there's lots of space to store things.

I followed SIRI's directions and there was...nothing. Well, not nothing, but no facility. I snapped a picture and sent it to my wife.

I know this little story can't hold a candle to Michael Scott's fictional tell in The Office, but it's a lesson that technology can't fix all things.

...But I still love technology.

I Live In...Americana

 The other day I stepped outside and looked north. I saw three homes, and three flag poles on which hung four flags...three of which were American flags--the third flag is hard to spot...it's above the bed of the truck.

I live in Americana.

I also live in an instant neighborhood. The house farthest away was the first to be built. I think it was built in 2019. The other two were built last year...as we ours. There are three houses behind ours that are being built right now with dozens more planned. Like I said, instant neighborhood. We spoke to the family developing the entire hillside. They said they couldn't sell anything in 2019. That changed the next year.

The three homes have new yards with new grass, new fences, new landscaping. In one house lives a young family with small kids. The other house has an older couple, and the last are recent retirees. We live in a small neighborhood in a small town in Northern Utah. We've come from all over, lured by cheap(er) land and home costs, clean air, wide streets, and almost non-existent traffic.

As more and more people come and build and live and put down roots, there'll be more lawns, more streets, more sprinklers, and more flags...

American, and otherwise.

Taking A Danish Summer Tour--Sounds Fun...Even On Instagram

 As a fan of all things Danish, I subscribe to several Danish Instagram sites. I'd say the majority of them focus mainly on the country's capitol, Copenhagen (pronounced "koh-puhn-HEY-guhn" not "koh-puhn HA-guhn"...). Truth be told, I love those pictures and videos form a city where I spent a year of my life. I could looks at pictures of Copenhagen all day. 

One picture I saw while browsing Instagram this afternoon caught my attention. It was from the site: denmarkdotdk. It showed two bikes (I was used to seeing two bikes when I was in the country...) and what looked like a cross between Stonehenge and Easter Island. The picture had a question attached: "Can you guess today's location?"

I did not know where the picture was taken. When I lived there, I spent time in four cities. I saw a lot, but there's so much more to see, even for a country about one-fifth the size of my home state of Utah (not including Greenland, of course...). 

What interested me also was the purpose of the photo--the site is conducting a summer tour of the country and since I'm not able to visit the country in person this summer, following along via their Instagram account sounds fun. If you'd like to take the tour, too, go to their Instagram site by clicking: HERE. 

I know so much has change since I walked and drove and biked the streets and paths of that amazing country almost forty years ago (can't believe it's been that long...). Maybe, just maybe there's one thing I might recognize, unlike the picture they posted today.

Oh, the location...

It's Lolland.

Hanging Out In Logan...At The Cache Valley Cruising Association

In Northern Utah last weekend, a car show was held. And I attended. The place was packed with amazing cars, trucks, motorcycles, and even a dump truck. There was also 1934 Bentley race car.

So many beautiful cars.

I brought my Nikon thinking I would snap dozens of pictures, but in reality, I took only a handful. It was almost too hot to do anything else but walk around and see what was there. I went with my mother-in-law and I loved hearing her tell stories of her history with cars. She pointed out cars her father owned, cars her husband owned, cars she and her friends went for drives back when she was in high school.

Wonderful memories.

For me, many of the cars generated no memories, but there were some cars I connect with, especially the the Volkswagens. Too bad there were only three that I saw, two convertible bugs and a convertible Rabbit...or cabriolet, as they say in France and L.A.

The race car was magnificent. Apparently, there are only two in existence. It's own by a talk show host and news personality. He was not in attendance, but I did pet his dog.

Going to an event like this for the first time, you learn things. If I return (and I hope I do...), I'll perhaps go on a less busy day. I may pack chilled water, and maybe other family members will be able to attend. One this is for certain, going to a car show you see and meet people what absolutely 100% love those vehicle. Their passion is on display and infectious. It's so nice to see that level of dedication nowadays.

Give Thanks...To An Angel

 Knowing the news will come does not lessen the pain. I thought it would. I was wrong. We lost my cousin Kris on Friday...the news we hoped would not arrive but that we've been waiting for for six years finally arrived and claimed the life of a wonderful person.

Kris is my cousin, but also my sister in many ways and a saint to our family.

The year 1974 was as bad a year a family could have. We lost my dad, my mom's husband, to cancer in February of that year. To help us out, Kris moved into our home to attend high school and help my mom handle three young children aged ten, eight, and five. Though I never specifically asked my mom about how much of a help she was to the family and especially my mom, I know it was was invaluable. She was, in a word, a saint, sent to us when we needed her most.

That bond between her and our family remained for decades. When Kris married Zach, it was as if our older sister got married. And when Zach passed away the year after my mother, we morned him as a brother.

If you know Kris, you'll understand when I say she brightened any room she entered. She always laughed, even when I'm sure she felt otherwise. Like my own mother, she handled the passing of her spouse with grace, composure, and class. Many, in sharing their thoughts of Kris, commented on the reunion of Zach, her own mother, my mom, and so many others. I'm sure that reunion was glorious. Also, I should mention the love and support of Kevin,  the husband she left behind. Though I don't know him as well, he served as a friend and loving companion for my cousin as she fought the battles but lost the war.

We received the news yesterday. We knew the day of her passing was close, but when I read the notice sent from Kris's sister, it was tough. My generation of cousins are in our 40s, 50s, and 60s. There will be more to come, but Kris was special. I'm so grateful she has been such a big part of my life. I love her and I'll miss her.