That High School Spirit...

 Years ago, I, like millions of others, attended public school. I advanced through the grades, attended different schools, and after thirteen years I sat in a big room with a couple of thousand other kids who did the same thing as me. Dressed in a brown (yes, brown...) robe I walked up and accepted a piece of paper that represented a diploma, which, in turn, represented the fact that I spent all those years sitting in classes, taking notes, putting off homework, and spending time with friends.

By the time I reached my senior year--my last year--I thought that school was so important, so all-encompassing. And why not? It was my life...it's all I knew.

Funny how important things tend to lose their luster over time.

With the advantage of hindsight, I can look at not only my years in school but the system in general. Important? Of course. All-encompassing? Not even close. 

Growing up I lived in a small town and we almost had one high school in each community. I traveled to the next town over to attend, give or take about five miles away. Now, just over thirty years after I finished, they built a brand-new, shiny high school in my hometown. I now live once again in a small town with its own high school. The next closest high school is at least twenty miles away. In time, that will change.

But that school spirit, that high school spirit...I think for some, it will never change. Kids will enter the system as small children and kick them out and label them as adults, whether or not they are. And businesses will hang banners and put up signs to take advantage of that spirit--hopefully converting school pride to cash. Good for them, I say. 

For me, unlike some, I have fond memories of my high school years. I remember hanging out with my friends, something I wish I could still do, though I know that life has ended. I sure wish I was as healthy as I was back then--that will never come back, nor should it. Life is meant to be lived, new experiences replace the old. It's the way it should be. When I saw a school banner in our local pizza joint, it brought back things, even though the banner wasn't from the school draped in brown and gold. Ah, that high school spirit...it never quite disappears entirely, just fades away a little more year after year.

Give Thanks...The View From A Hill

 Yesterday, my wife and I got in the car and drove north, then east, then northeast. When we stopped the car the temperature outside read -3˚ and we found ourselves in Bern, Idaho. Everything we saw, the mountain ridges, the valley, was completely covered with a blanket of white. Yes, the sun was shining, but it wasn't warm enough to melt anything. 

We got out of the car and entered the church. Two hours later, we left the church and drove to the Bern Cemetery. Even though it warmed up significantly, it still hurt to deeply inhale, but all those issues faded away by simply looking east.

It was spectacular.

Of course, I would rather have not have had to be there, nor would anyone else who made the trip. Such is the way of things.

I'm sure I'm not alone when I say cemeteries fascinate me...not to the point of stopping and checking out a random cemetery when I'm driving by. The cemetery in Bern is located on a western-facing hillside. It's long and thin and the road encircles the gravesites. And the view to the east is amazing. I'm grateful for the dedicated pioneers that settled the valley and those who remain. I'm grateful they chose a beautiful place for a cemetery, and I'm grateful to be able to gather with family and friends to honor a wonderful soul.

When In Logan...Eat At Herm's

 We make the trip to Logan several times a month. Logan has become the "Big City" for us. Personally, I love Logan, Utah, except it's crowded...so many people. But, Logan has a WinCo Foods, a Natural Grocers, a Best Buy, both a Home Depot and Lowes, and perhaps most importantly, a large (many would say, proper...) Deseret Industries.

It also has Herm's Inn.

The last time we ventured east, my mother-in-law came along. She also needed things not found in our valley but found in the valley next door. We crested the ridge just around noon. "We should get something to eat in Logan," one of us said and the rest of us agreed.

But, where?

The eternal question.

Then my mother-in-law had an idea. Months ago she and her friend who knew Logan better than we did took her to a restaurant in Logan and she loved it. The problem was, my mother-in-law didn't remember the name or the location of said restaurant. Thanks to the modern miracle of cellphones, a quick call to her friend and we had our information. The place was called Herm's Inn on Canyon Road. Thanks to another modern miracle of search engines on cellphones, we knew exactly where we were headed.

The place was amazing. Maybe it was because I was so hungry (I'm sure that contributed...) but the food was delicious. It was the very definition of comfort food. They had dozens of hand-drawn faces on the walls as well as an Indian motorcycle.

Awesome!

If you find yourself in the Logan area, and you're hungry (or would like to see some amazing decor...), check out Herm's Inn on Canyon Drive--first AND last chance for good food.

Where (Some...) Of The New Neighbors Will Live

 I took a little walk last week. I turned right, then right again and walked to the end of the street where several new buildings stood.

It's where our new neighbors will live.

Normally, I'd be exited about new neighbors, and I am, in a way. But, in another way, I see the homes people will buy and then move in, but I don't know if I'll ever get to know them.

To get to the cul-de-sac on my walk passed a dozen homes. I have no idea who lives in any of them. This isn't their fault--I blame myself, mostly. There's nothing stopping me from leaving my comfort zone and getting to know them. I don't know...it's a different world in some ways.

The homes at the end of the street are all about the same rate of completion. There's a couple more homes to the right of these three that are not quite so far advanced. And most of the mountain to the east and north of us is undeveloped. That won't last long.

So, if you'd like to come on up and be our neighbors, I say go for it! There are homes almost built waiting for you. If so, when I take that walk in the future, I may just stop in and say hi.

Yup...I'm Turning Into "That Guy"

 Working at home allows a person to see things they normally would not see. Back when my home office was in the basement, I did have access to a window, but it was, shall we say, not very clean. After years of being hit with irrigation water, you could barely see out of it. That, and the fact that it was buried in the ground and I could only see the sky, did not give me a good view of happenings on our street.

Different house...different views.

Now, from my work desk, I can see not only an incredible sight of a beautiful eastern mountain range, but I see the street in front of our house. In the future, when the land gets eaten up and homes that will stretch to the east, the dead-end road will continue. For now, the road just ends.

The other day I saw some neighbor kids playing in that dead-end street. I love seeing kids playing outside, even in the winter. The kids were riding their scooters and having a good time. The next day when I looked outside, I noticed a lone scooter laying idle in the street. I figured it would be moved later that day. After all, there was a scooter without a kid (or a kid without a scooter...) and no one wants to be without their stuff, especially kids.

Apparently, I was wrong.

The next day I looked out the window and once again saw the scooter. I know the scooter doesn't care about the kid (since it can't...). It looked like the kid felt the same way about the scooter. I checked again this morning and saw the scooter in the same place...just laying there, unmoved.

Now, this little turn-off from the main road gets almost no traffic. There is an occasional car that pulls in to turn around, but it's rare. Still...I thought about the possibility that some car or truck or quad or delivery vehicle might pull in and not see the scooter. What would it do to a tire? Not much give in that scooter steel. 

Tonight, I put our garbage into our big garbage can and rolled it to the curb. I saw the scooter and decided to move it. As I approached it, I thought...oh no--I'm turning into "that guy." I'm the pesky older gentleman that watches the neighborhood and comments (sometimes, through actions...) about the goings on.

Just another reminder, I'm getting older.

If We'd Only Got A Little More Snow...

 It snowed last week, something that hasn't happened a lot this winter...not as much as we'd like. When we went to bed the night before, the snow was coming down, so much so, it was starting to pile up on the roads, sidewalks, lawns, cars, whatever was outside.

If only it had snowed a little bit more.

Some of our neighbors have hired us to shovel their driveways and sidewalks, however, there's a catch. We are only called out if the snow reaches a certain level. My wife ventured out into the snow in the morning to see if the amount of snow we received reached that level.

Turns out, it was just a smidgen too low.

We were not called out.

Since we got the gig, I've looked at snow differently. Since I work at home (and have done for years...) we usually don't have to go out so getting snowed in wasn't the biggest issue for us, especially since we bought an all-wheel drive car that is fantastic in the snow. But now, with others relying on us to clear snow, it's no longer a miner inconvenience. It's a responsibility, a calling almost.

We don't know if we'll be able to do the same thing next winter...maybe, maybe not. But this year, I wish we had a little more snow the other night. Actually, I wish we'd get several storms over the next couple of months...we sure could us them.

That's One Smart Puppy...

 Dogs can't build airplanes or do our taxes, but they're incredibly smart in other ways. Case in point--our dog knows when we open the refrigerator drawer where the cheese is stored.

Every time.

Our fridge has four ways to retrieve stuff, two doors and two drawers. The bottom drawer gains access to the freezer and the other drawer is where we place our "sandwich materials." Today, I conducted a little test since I decided to make a sandwich for lunch. The dog was downstairs. It's not a large house and there wasn't much going on so with the animal's elevated sense of hearing, I thought the dog could hear what I was doing even though he wasn't in the room.

I started my test by first opening the doors.

Nothing.

Then--I opened up the cheese drawer.

Instantly, I heard the metal licenses hanging on the dog's collar clink, then, the familiar sound of four paws running up the stairs filled the room. The dog knew exactly which drawer I opened because he knows when that door opens, more than not someone will be bringing out the cheese and there's a great chance he'll get a little bit of that to eat.

No, our puppy can't put together a 1000 piece puzzle or sing any of the parts to any of the songs found in Frederic Handel's Messiah, but when there's a chance for a tasty snack, he's all over it.

A Morning View...

 At this time of year, I wake up and start working before the sun rises. Most of my work year is like this. Because I have an east-facing window in my office, I have the privilege of watching each sunrise while I work. Some days--most days--the views from my window are ordinary...not much to see as far as colorful sunrises go.

Sort of like today.

This morning wasn't bad. I actually snapped a few pictures, but they weren't impressive. Usually around the time the sun rises at this time of year, I venture into the kitchen for some breakfast. This morning, I stopped and looked at our entrance. Something in the way the light filtered through the small windows caught my attention. 

As I looked at the pictures later, both inside the house and the ones I took outside, it made me wonder. Why does a sunset need to be spectacular? It was beautiful outside this morning, even though it didn't translate to digital film or be something worthy of posting on social media.

I need to re-evaluate sometimes, like how I think about the beauty that exists all around me. I should just enjoy what I see instead of thinking how I can post about it.

Then, as it happens, tonight's sunset was absolutely brilliant so I took a picture of it and posted it. I guess I'll never learn...

Give Thanks...Doing A Little Extra

 Earlier this month, I found myself having a procedure done and it took place at the hospital I can literally see from our front porch. It's a mile away. In the short time we've lived here, we've interacted with that building a couple of times.

One thing you can say about the place is they go the extra mile.

A few days after I received a card in the mail thanking me for choosing them. I suppose I "chose" them--I could have gone somewhere else, but that never crossed my mind. We never thought about going somewhere else. 

If someone had stopped me on the street and asked me how my experience was at the Bear River Valley Hospital, I would say, "Great." Because it was. But after receiving the card (by the way, the people in the photo actually have well-defined features--I blurred their faces on purpose...), it makes me feel even better about the place. I'm grateful they did a little extra.

My cynical mind makes me think that the hospital believes they need to be proactive in marketing because of the competition. Then again, maybe they're just nice and want to thank their patrons and patients for their choices. 

Either way, it made me feel better, so mission accomplished. 

Another Death In The Family...

I saw the incoming call from my brother earlier this week. He and I have corresponded several times in the past couple of weeks since my sister passed away. He stayed at the hospital while they tried to save her life and he was there when they turned off the machines.

I didn't know why he called earlier this week.

Turns out, he called to report another family member was going to pass away, possibly soon.

I'm getting sick of those calls. It was the fourth such call we've received in the past six months.

My cousin passed away in July of last year. She was sixty-three. Then my brother-in-law passed away in November. He was sixty-four. My sister died the last week of the year at the age of fifty-three, and my cousin's husband passed away Thursday. He was fifty-nine.

I know I'm not alone--with so many people passing away many families have experienced multiple deaths. We as a society seem to be mourning all the time.

Steve, my cousin's husband who passed away this week, is an amazing man. He earned his doctorate and used his skills as an educator and administrator. I've always admired his dedication to making the world a better place, to help the younger generation understand this crazy world. He had been sick for years--the cancer diagnosis hung over the family like a dark cloud. But I never heard a a negative remark from him. He faced his final days the way he lived his life. I never heard one complaint.

I am at the age, and we live in a time when any of us can go at any time. It's always been this way, but with so many deaths in such a short period of time, it hits home. I hope this makes me appreciate life more, appreciate those around me more because it's more evident than ever before...you never know.

I love my brother, but I could do with fewer phone calls of bad news in the future.

Finding Something White...

 Personally, I love winter. I love how the world looks buried under a blanket of white. I love how no plants spread pollen or bitting bugs fly in the air in the winter. Sure, it's cold so I put on more layers. There are drawbacks--nothing great comes without a price. The snow is beautiful, but in order for us to get our cars into our garage, we need to shovel that snow.

This morning, I ventured outside with a shovel in my hands and an earbud in my ear and went to work. A few months ago I bought some new earbuds. They were on the cheaper end...I didn't want to spend a lot of money in case I didn't like them. I do like them, but they don't fit very well. When doing things (other than sitting in a chair or lying on a bed...) they tend to fall out.

It happened again this morning.

And it happened while I shoveled snow. 

Normally, this wouldn't be an issue, but when I bought the ear buds, I chose the white ones. I saw the white ear bud drop, hit the shovel, then...gone. At first, I thought, no problem--I'll just see the mark on the snow where the ear bud landed and pick it up.

I looked and saw no marks in the snow. The snow was not deep, only an inch, but I was surrounded by white and it could have landed anywhere. To add to the frustration, I was shoveling my neighbor's sidewalk and when I went back to look this afternoon after much of the snow had melted, my neighbor broke out his quad with a plow and cleared his driveway. Somewhere, under now a foot of snow is the ear bud, or worse, it was smashed under the tires.

I still love winter. I'm still going to look for the ear bud when the snow melts--could be a few days, or weeks. I'm still glad the ear buds were cheap. Next time, I might pick the black ones.

An Ad...

 Last week I snapped a picture of an ad hanging at a local store. 

STATIONARY EXERCISE BIKE

Then a name, a phone number, and the price.

The same thing happens in local stores in every town, millions of ads placed in millions of stores for millions of products and services, a not-so-underground network of commerce.

We have an exercise bike. It was given to us by our neighbor who was just going to toss it. It works, but only just. My wife and I discussed the option of perhaps buying the exercise bike from the ad so I made the call. 

I called Jim.

Jim didn't pick up. I think that's how most of society operates nowadays. They screen calls. I believe Jim was screening his calls because that's exactly what I do. If I don't recognize the number, I almost never pick up. So, I left a v/m message. I didn't get a call for a few hours--I figured it was no longer available.

Then, Jim called. He very politely said he sold the bike. I thought it strange he would call back. I mean, I probably wouldn't have called if I put up an ad, sold the item, the received a v/m message about the bike. People are just built different up here. And, we like it.

The Genius That Is..."ER"

 In my life, I've watched three series that centered around the medical field (I'm not counting Marcus Welby M.D, or Quincy M.E. here...). I watched M*A*S*H, St. Elsewhere, and ER. Of the three, M*A*S*H is not like the other two, and it's been so long since I've seen St. Elsewhere, I've forgotten much of it. But, of the three, ER is in a class by itself.

My wife and I used to watch the show back when we were first married. It seemed like everyone else watched it, too. Because we live in amazing times, yesterday, my wife decided to play the pilot episode and I sat down and watched with her, and I was instantly reminded how wonderful the show was. Now, because I have not watched a lot of hospital shows, maybe I'm not the best judge of hospital shows. What does ER do that other shows do not do, or what does ER do that other shows do not do as well?

It's highly possible I enjoyed watching the first episode so much because it reminded me of the characters that we fell in love almost thirty years ago. The stories may not reflect true life and the characters may not reflect real people, but it felt real. We felt the fatigue of the doctors and nurses. We understood when the intern sat outside and wondered if he could continue. We cheered as the arrogant resident was praised after performing an insanely risky surgery. 

I have no direct connection to that world of medicine, especially the world of an emergency room worker. The show made me respect and admire the doctors, nurses, administrators, and everyone who does work in that world.

We watched for several seasons, but as the show continued, we lost interest. At some point, we stopped watching--the characters and the stories no longer held us captive as did those early shows. Watching the pilot episode yesterday reminded us of just how great the series was. It didn't preach with a heavy hand, but it taught by showing the weaknesses and strengths of humanity. It wasn't "woke" (at least, at first...), but it showed the inequalities that exist and now society confronted them and tried to overcome the challenges. I watched the show in awe...the writing, the acting, the situations. It was, in a word, genius.

Had A Caption For This...Then Changed My Mind

 I spotted the cover of People Magazine in our local grocery store yesterday, and a quote came to mind. It's from the movie, Major League. "Just a bit outside." I snapped a picture and thought about posting it for my Pic Of The Day with the snarky caption highlighting the fact that Betty White did, in fact, not reach her one-hundredth birthday.

When it came time to choose a picture, I changed my mind.

Yesterday was a holiday and I didn't spend the day on a computer so I didn't realize it was Betty White's birthday and she would have turned one-hundred had she not passed away on New Years Eve. At first when I saw the magazine cover, I thought it was a misprint or that the magazine goofed. Then I thought they ran with the story--a story they were going to publish anyway--because it was written and ready to go.

When it was time to choose a picture, I decided not to use it. After all, using it as a punch line for a not-so-funny joke would be in bad taste. Like pretty much everyone I was sad to hear of her passing, but glad she had lived such a long and amazing life. Using that picture would be insensitive (even if only a few people would actually see it...). 

When I thought about it, it made sense that People went forward with the article and cover. After all, she was born one-hundred years ago yesterday, even if she didn't quite make the anniversary in person. It is a recognition of a long life well lived.

Did A Little Organizing Today...

 Last year, we put a workbench in our garage. Oh, we had big plans for the space. In our last house, we had no specific place to do any work that a workbench affords. Sure, we could move the car out of the garage and I could work there, but that's not a solution. When we first saw the house we ended up buying, how I loved the garage space. It was choice (to quote Mr. Bueller...).

We assembled the bench, then over time we used it as a storage space...think "treadmill" storage space and you get the idea. And the fact that we didn't have anything that needed fixing or building kept me from cleaning off the bench. A few months ago we put up a pegboard that covered the entire wall over the bench. Again, I looked forward to the day that we could clear off the junk, organize the hundreds--perhaps thousands--of tools, bolts, nuts, washers, and all the other things that I've collected over the years.

Today was that day.

At least, today was the day we started to organize.

I'm not too handy with tools. I mean, I can make stuff and have the desire to make stuff. I'd like to be more like my father when it comes to that area. He could build anything, and he did. I inherited many of my father's tools when we sold my mother's house, many I've never used. I'm hoping to change that.

Step one is done. We've done some organizing. Now, I just need to find something to fix/build to make the workbench fulfill its destiny.

Give Thanks...For Dave Wolverton--Someone My Non-Writer Friends Should Know

 This post is for all my non-writer friends. 

Why? Basically because most of my writer friends already know Dave Wolverton, and nothing I write in this post will surprise them. No, I'm writing for all those out there who don't know Dave Wolverton, or his other pen name, Dave Farland. I'm writing this because if you're not familiar with Dave the author, the teacher, the mentor, the trainer, the friend, he's a man you should know, because his influences have changed the world.

When I ventured into the writing world, a few names rose to the top. There's the best-selling world-famous local writers that everyone knows of and everyone wants to become, but if you dig just a little deeper, there's one name that connects them, and thousands of other writers.

As a professor at BYU Dave tutored so many. Several of his students turned out to be household names in the writing world...Brandon Sanderson, Dan Wells, Brandon Mull, Jessica Day George, Eric Flint, James Dashner, Stephanie Meyer. As an editor at Scholastic, he helped them take a chance on an unknown author, J. K. Rowling. You may not have known Dave, but guaranteed, you've been influenced by him.

But, in my opinion, Dave's greatest quality was not how he helped the careers of so many famous writers, but it was how he treated the legions of us non-famous writers that showed me his true self. Having attended a few conferences over the years, there'd be times when I would find myself sitting at the same table with Dave. On a few occasions, we'd chat. I'd ask questions and he'd offer his time. Imaging, someone with his knowledge (and I'm not even including here what a tremendously gifted writer he was...) sitting with me, a relative nobody in the writing universe. It blew my mind then and continues to do the same today.

So many have penned heartfelt dedications to Dave since his passing last week. I've read as many as possible and in every story, every anecdote, every remembrance the writer tells a personal story about how Dave helped them--either in writing or in life or both. And so I add my own story/anecdote/remembrance. Last month I had questions about a novel I've finished. Is there a market for it, an audience? I decided to send Dave a message...

And he responded.

I asked if he had a quick moment for a question. He said it "wasn't a great time," but he offered his help anyway. After a short back-and-forth, we ended the conversation. Then, he wrote something he didn't have to write, something that showed again his greatness...he wanted to chat about the book in the future. It's hard to express how that made me feel. But my writer friends who knew Dave--most better than I did--know how I felt. They know because Dave made them feel the same way, again and again and again.

I felt my non-writer friends should know more about Dave, about the man who so recently passed away and who has influenced so many of us on a personal level. There are few individuals in this world with that gift. I'm grateful I met him, grateful to see his example. I hope to never forget his example, and I hope my non-writer friends know him a little better, too.

The Got A Twisted Sugar...We're On The Fast Track To The Big Time

 One of the charms of living in a small town is the small-towniness. It's everywhere. People wave to each other. You hardly ever have to wait for traffic to turn onto a road. The air is cleaner and the people are nicer.

It's been an amazing experience and we've love it ever since we moved in 2020.

But, it won't last...it can't last.

That's the downside of living in a small town.

I've mentioned many times that the town where we now live is so much like the town we used to live in, only how it was fifty years ago. We had Main Street, some houses, and some farmland. It wasn't unusual for many neighbors to have horses on their land behind their homes. The church they attended was over a hundred years old and everyone knew each other...or so it seemed.

That's how it feels for us now where we live. I also feel change is coming. I feel this because I've seen it happen. We live on one side of town, a town that has a lot of businesses. We've watched over the past year as a new mini-strip mall has been built. We've wondered what will go in the smallish spaces. Well, we found out a month or so ago what one of those shops was going to be...a Twisted Sugar shop.

It opened recently and earlier this week, I stopped in to check it out. I've never been to one--didn't know anything about the place other than the obvious--it's got tasty treats. I chose the Pina Colada drink and it was very good. Unfortunately for our family, they use artificial flavors in their products which means, my family will not be stopping in for tasty treats. Bummer.

I think many of our fellow citizens are excited about the prospect...a new place to hang out, to get something new. That's how it starts. There's excitement that new things are coming, and it is exciting. It's fun, and the prospect of other new things only adds to that excitement.

But, one day they'll turn around and the town will have doubled, new traffic lights will be installed (because they're needed...) and it will take fifteen minutes to take a trip that used to take only five. Yes, they'll be new shops, new stores, new many things, but it'll come at a cost. We're on the fast track to the Big Time. I just hope people are willing to take the good with the bad.

...Is Another Man's Treasure

 The other day I came across an account on Twitter of a long-haul truck driver. Someone I follow had liked a post of his. I read it and I decided to follow him...not really sure why. He has several thousand followers and I joined the many.

The other day I noticed he was tweeting as he drove across the country. Then he posted a video of his rig driving down a Utah canyon. I thought, "cool." He's in my home state. Then, he posted another picture--one I posted here--and you can definitely tell it's Utah.

Again, I thought, "cool."

For fun, I decided to check out the comments. That's something I would not necessarily recommend if you're not familiar with Twitter, but his followers seems to be a civil lot so I thought I'd check them out. The comments were overwhelmingly positive about the picture. They commented on the view he saw in the morning, and even the church. More than one identified the correct denomination of the building.

I looked at the shot and wondered where the trucker parked his truck that night. I thought at first it was somewhere in Utah County. There are several places along the interstate where the mountains are in the distance like they are in the photo.

Then, I looked again...

And I noticed he parked about five miles from my house.

This is the view someone would get if they parked at the Texaco Station at the first Tremonton exit northbound on I-15. When I read his tweet, I looked out my office window at the same mountain.

It made me think. All those people commented on how incredible the view was and how lucky the trucker was to be able to see such a view. Commenters were blown away at how beautiful it was. Now, of course, they might have been just saying positive things to the trucker to be nice, but I honestly believe the comments were sincere. That made me think of something else. When we decided to move north, many people couldn't believe it. I mean, we came from one of the most desirable places to live in the whole state. But, since we've move here, I've found this valley amazingly beautiful. 

Many who don't know this area might not know how incredible it is, but the trucker found out and so did the commenters. It's something we've known for a while.

A Dog And His Toy...

You probably can't see from these pictures, but this dog is smiling...

Smiling Big.

Ah...a dog's life.

And another thing you can't see (or hear...) from these pictures is the sound made by the big pink bone that happens to be our dog's favorite toy. Around the same time every evening, the dog will pick up the bone, hold it in his mouth and and start chewing. When he chews, the high pitch screech emanating from the toy echoes throughout the house and bounces around in all our heads.

It's adorable, and terrible.

But, what can we do? The dog loves that toy.

There's another interesting annoyance when it comes to that toy. It's rubber and covered with rubber spikes. It's so big that if you happen to bump it when walking, it won't move...won't budge, be it on carpet or hardwood floors. It's so big that it freaks you out because you think you've hit the edge of the coffee table or a couch. 

The other alternative is if you step on it directly, it screams. Imaging giving a two-year old a recorder or a set of cymbals. There's a reason you don't do that. But we give these toys to our pets. Of course, you can't "test drive" a dog toy in the store so you never know if the animal will like it. Turns out in our case, he did...a lot.

Yes, it's a dog's life. With his toy he's the happiest puppy in the world. 

Cache Valley...Absolutely Gorgeous

 Last Saturday, my wife and I took a little driving tour to our neighbor valley to the east. Cache Valley (which is located in the appropriately named Cache County...) is just over the mountain range from us. For those of you who are not familiar with Cache Valley, let me just say, it's beautiful...just beautiful.

We drove into the valley from the west. Most people enter the valley from the south, but some of us--the lucky few--get to see the valley from a different perspective. We drove through the marshland and did some shopping on the north side of Logan. We then drove through Logan, passed the farmland and expanding suburbs, and left through Sardine Canyon.

There is so much to appreciate about Logan and Cache Valley. If you like cooler temperatures, you'll love the place. Of course, cooler means for all seasons. It can be downright brutal in the winter. I know--I spent one winter in Logan and as I walked to class at Utah State University and crested Old Main Hill in the mornings, that freezing air blasting from Logan Canyon goes right through you--no matter how many coats you wear.

If there's another knock on the county, it's the air. There's something about that valley that traps bad air. That happens in Salt Lake and Provo and Ogden and even where we live, but it happens a lot in Logan and it seems when it happens in Logan, it's worse.

But the cold and the bad air are only a few negatives in a valley full of pluses. When we decided to move north, I knew we weren't going to end up in Cache Valley, but I'm so glad we're close enough that a short drive on a mountain road can get us there.

Cache Valley...absolutely gorgeous.

One Of The Perks...Of Writing

 It's been almost ten years since I started writing, or more specifically, it's been almost ten years since I started to take the craft of writing seriously. It's been an incredible experience. There's some things I think I expected, as far as what it's like to be a writer, but there's other things that I've experienced that I had no idea would happen.

Case in point...seeing my friends's books in bookstores and libraries.

It's wonderful.

I should begin by saying that getting to know writers has been an adventure as well. As we grow up, we get to know different publics. Depending on where you work, there's a culture within a particular group--it has its own identity. Sometimes, those cultures are not very welcoming. I've done community theater for years. For the most part, the people involved in that industry are the best, but it can be cliquish at times. I've also been involved in the film industry (to a much lesser extent...). I witness some exclusion in that industry as well.

But, writers. They're a different breed. It's rare when you come across a writer who doesn't root for other writers. Of course, I have only rubbed shoulders with a few "best selling" authors (who were also generous and kind...) so my focus group is mostly beginners and what I would call "hobby writers" hoping to one day make it big. I've gotten to know so many authors, so many people in the same situation as me, and made some incredible friendships. I've also seen when an author signs a contract or posts a picture of them opening a box of books they wrote, the support is overwhelmingly positive.

If only more cultures would do that.

So, when I walk into a bookstore or library and see a friend's book on the shelf to buy or check out, it brings back those wonderful memories of sitting with them at conventions trying to sell books, of having dinner or just hanging out and talking about books and families and life and everything. Seeing those books brings a smile to my face. Of course, seeing your own book is amazing as well, but when you see someone else's book--someone you know--and you've talked to them, heard stories about that book and the trials and struggles it took to get that book made, it makes seeing it so much sweeter.

Found Another Phone Activity...Finally

 Let's just say I'm not the target audience for most of the phone gaming apps out there. I hate games that get progressively harder to play the more you play them.

That's like 99% of the games that are available on phones. There's enough stress in everyday life out there--I don't need more coming from my phone, especially self-inflicted. Ive had games on my phone in the past that do not get tougher as you play. The problem is they're not popular. I know this because they don't get upgraded and when I download updates in my phone's operating system, the games go away. I can no longer play them. I've been looking for something else to do on my phone for a long time.

My wife and daughter downloaded a coloring app on their phones years ago. I've seen them using the apps, but I never thought it would be something I'd enjoy. Well, I decided to give it a try and it's been my most-used app ever since. Sure, there are adds you have to endure for other games I'll never download. And yes, there are times when I can't find the last speck of the picture to color, but that's not a big deal. So far, I've been extremely pleased with the product.

I have no idea if I'll continue with it or not. I may get bored and stop. I may try another app that does the same thing. Time will tell. But, for now, I think I'll stick with it and see what happens.

Give Thanks...The Love And Support Of Others

 Two weeks ago tomorrow, my sister collapsed at work. A week ago tomorrow, we held a funeral to say goodbye.

How fast things can change.

I can't imagine few things as tough as losing a family member. In my immediate family, we had five people. Now, only two remain. After my sister's heart attack, we found rather quickly that the prognosis was not good, so we prepared for the worst, And when the worst was confirmed, we proceeded with funeral plans. We made public the announcement.

Then, the comments...the love and support...came flooding in.

Simply put, I was overwhelmed at the responses. I heard from life-long friends, many that knew my sister personally. I heard from many who have never met my sister, but knew only me--all offered their support and condolences. Even a simple emoji response to a post on social media meant so much for me and my family. 

I am so grateful for everyone who reached out, who offered kind words of love and support. It means more than I can adequately express. 

After the final words were said at the gravesite, my brother's family broke out the lanterns. Children and adults (of course, I can only speak for myself...) loved watching the beautiful lantern ascend into the heavens. It was a fitting end of an experience none of us wanted. I hope I always remember the outpouring of support from everyone, even if I cannot thank you personally. I hope you know it meant the world.

When You Buy The Same Thing You Bought Forty-Plus Years Ago...

 One of the funnest things we got this past Christmas was a record player. It's not a high-end record player, but it's modern, and by modern, I mean it has Bluetooth technology s we can broadcast the sound from the TV sound bar.

We've had a blast playing records.

When my mother-in-law relocated north with us last year, we cleaned out her house. She had several albums she kept over the years...mostly Christmas records from the sixties or seventies. There were a couple of my wife's albums included. I'm sure we did the same thing at my mom's house when she passed away almost fifteen years go--got rid of stuff. Unfortunately, I did not keep any of the many records we listened to growing up. That's something I regret. We had some classics.

With a new record player, we ventured out this morning in search of lost memories. We first went to the local thrift store. They had nada...well, almost nada. After that, we stopped by BestBuy and looked through their selection. That's where I spotted 2112 from RUSH. 

It's the same album I bought probably from Grand Central more than forty years ago. It's strange, thinking I'd ever want to own vinyl again. With digital music, there's no physical connection required to transfer sound from object to speaker. It's obvious--digital sound is vastly superior to analog, in every way.

However, even though this is true, there's something digital can't give you...the memories of static, of expertly placing the needle on the exact spot on the spinning disk to begin the music exactly where you want. No...digital music is wonderful, but putting on a record, watching it turn, having a thin piece of metal vibrate from grooves in the record and having that vibration translate to music and lyrics.

It's magic.

I spent hours and hours listening to this album, other RUSH albums as well as albums from STYX, Journey, Kansas, and so many others. I would love to have my old collection back, but I think hunting for the classics will be fun, too. Day 1 of the hunt is over, and I bagged a good one.

A Very Thoughtful Gift...

 The box came before Christmas, as many boxes do. And the box was opened on Christmas morning, as many boxes are.

Inside were two mugs...a perfect gift for any U of U football fan. The mugs celebrated Utah's invitation to this year's Rose Bowl game. On the back listed the Ute's schedule of wins/loses and the scores of each contest.

It was a gift from my sister-in-law and I thought, "What a thoughtful gift."

Then, my mind began to think about things, and I realized just how thoughtful the gift was.

It was the dates that did it.

You see, such a mug could not have been available to purchase until the evening of December 3rd, 2021. Of course, the mugs could have been made before that date, but it wasn't until Utah beat Oregon in the PAC-12 Championship game that such a mug would be wanted by a Utah fan. After the game ended, the Rose Bowl invite was "official."

And that's when the mugs were ordered.

What made the gift special to us is that my sister-in-law knows we're Utah football fans (as is she...). But, my sister-in-law lost her husband several weeks earlier than the December game. So, even after her husband passed away, she sent such a wonderful gift. If what happened to her had happened to me, I don't think I'd remember to do much of anything.

The gift was wonderful. The U of U season was amazing, and now I have a memento of not only the game, but of a selfless act of giving that I'll cherish more than the season's memories. Thanks, Pam! It means a lot.

That Day Snoopy Let Me Down...

 We thought it would be a blast...a few weeks before Christmas while we were wandering up and down the aisles of our local pharmacy/corner store, we saw something and the moment we saw it, we thought, "we should buy that."

Well, it wasn't the best purchasing decision we ever made.

In fact, Snoopy let us down.

Okay, okay...I know what you're thinking. "You bought that?" Yes. We did. We bought it and brought it home, unpacked it, and set it on the kitchen counter. Tonight, I decided to melt some chocolate, pull out the almost-empty tin of Danish butter cookies, and watch the magic unfold. We followed the instructions, plugged in Snoopy's Chocolate Fountain, poured the melted mixture into the device and turned it on.

Oh, we had high hopes. The chocolate seeped into the mechanism and it began to rise up the middle cylinder. We couldn't wait until delicious smoothy chocolate flowed downward where we would thrust Danish butter cookies into that flow, then experience the hor 'devours of kings and guests at some wedding receptions.

We watched and waited, then we heard the sound...a high-pitched screech of the fountain not working. The thingy that turns and pushes the chocolate up then out stopped. We thought maybe the chocolate was too thick, so we added more oil to the mixture, cleaned out the fountain, and tried again.

Thinner chocolate--same result.

I decided to see if the chocolate was the problem. Turns out, when I just tested the machine without chocolate, it didn't work. The motor would not turn. My dreams dashed.

Bummer.

In hindsight, we probably shouldn't have bought a six-inch tall Snoopy Chocolate Fountain. The odds of it actually working were pretty slim. But, we took a shot at dessert happiness, flew too close to the sun, and became a voice of warning. I think the saddest part is that Snoopy adorns the side of the fountain. Snoopy has always been a symbol of strength, ingenuity, and perseverance. Now, the dream's dashed. I hope one day it can be repaired.

No, we will not enjoy a chocolate fountain this winder season. I saw a proper fountain online you can buy. It'll cost you--a couple of hundred bucks. We could go that route, but we probably won't...that's a little too rich for us...

Just like the chocolate.

Putting Christmas Away...

 It's sort of depressing, in a way...deciding when to put away the Christmas lights, the decorations, the tree, the memories, the hopes and dreams. There's that time that inevitably comes when we turn to each other, and ask, "When do you want to put Christmas away?"

Putting Christmas away...

We do the opposite of what we did only weeks earlier, drag out the large plastic tubs from the space under the stairs, snap open the lids and place things back where "they belong." For us, this year differed from all those before--we bought an artificial tree. This means, we were the sole determinators as to when the Christmas season of 2021 would begin (even though we always knew when it would end...). We no longer needed to climb in a cold car and travel to a distant tree lot to officially begin the holidays. 

We set up the tree Thanksgiving weekend.

The week between Christmas and New Years is a perfect time to tear down. I usually have days off from work and the family's usually together...perfect time. And if the weather cooperates, we'll take down the outside lights. There's an emptiness that invades the space once occupied by Christmas...where the tree stood, where the Christmas cards were placed, where the stockings hung and now were gone. The emptiness can never be fully replaced until those things are returned. Halloween lights and decorations try, but can't quite do it.

January is a tough act to follow. The build-up of the holidays, the excitement of possibilities, then January hits and--where we live, at least--is cold and sunless with bad air and once-white snow turning gray. Still, there's a beauty in January, if you only look.

Christmas boxes under the stairs get shuffled throughout the year. Other boxes leave and are returned until finally, the Christmas boxes come out again and we begin the cycle anew. The last thing I put away was our inflatable nativity scene. It needed to dry out completely, so for two days I plugged it in inside the garage until no water remained. Next year, before I unpack it, I need to find some lightbulbs...it's supposed to have six lights...only one remains now. Looks like I've got eleven months and change to get ready.

If Anyone Is Looking For An Amazing Furry Friend...We Have The Perfect Solution

 We have two cats. Turns out, it's one too many. Sometimes, when you rescue an animal things don't work out. A few years ago, the previous cat we rescued passed away and in our grief, we found a weeks-old kitten and brought him home.

What an amazing cat he's turned out to be.

This little guy, a rag doll, got big. He's not the biggest cat out there--he's not fat, just thick. We found out one day that he plays fetch. Not every day, but when he feels like it. We'd throw a hair elastic across the room and he'd go get it. We also sort of trained him to go into his pet carrier, also. We don't do either very much any more, but it was a blast getting to know that he did those things.

Since he was my daughter's cat, she named him SamDean Winchester, after a certain brother duo on a certain long-running paranormal/supernatural show.

This past summer, we found out the family became allergic to SamDean more than usual, and because of the potential respiratory issues that can show up at any time, being more allergic to a cat makes things worse. 

We are heartbroken to have to find a new home for SamDean, but we know there's someone out there who needs an amazing, loving, opinionated pet with the most incredible blue eyes. He's never been outside--always an inside cat. If you or anyone you know would love to have this cat be part of their family, please let us know. We'd love for him to find a good home.

The Sunset Last Night Was...Breathtaking

Yesterday, I walked outside into a cold January evening and snapped a few pictures of the sky. I then returned outside a minute later as the sky above became alive with color. With sunsets, you never know what you're going to get...will the first tinges be all there is, or will it develop, grow, mature into something that takes your breath away?

Yesterday, it was the latter.

Last night I kept leaving the house to get more pictures as the colors deepened. Of course, you never know how they'll translate to a digital image until they're downloaded and manipulated (at least, a little...).

It's been a crap week for my family. We had planned to meet up, the three families and have Sunday dinner the day after New Years Day. We were to meet at my sisters. That dinner never took place, unfortunately. We did gather today, for an entirely different reason.

For the past almost fifty years, I watched the sunset from the end of a cul-de-sac. The hill and Farmington Bay provided the most amazing vantage point to see the brilliant colors. Where we now live, it's different. The entire sky seems to open up, and the sunsets encompass us. They surround us. I used to think where we lived before that the sunsets could not get any better. I no longer think that. I'm a convert to what's possible.

Last night was a gift. It was as if the sky knew things. It teased with some light colors on the eastern mountains which drew me outside, made me forget for a moment the week we'd had. Then, it rewarded me with more perspectives, more colors, more...hope. No, the day did not turn out how we planned, but what I saw in the sky was breathtaking.