Give Thanks...For How We Used To Live

 If it weren't for the car in the far left of the picture, or the telephone/cable box just slightly right of center in front of the buildings (and, had I not adjusted the photo by removing all color...), this could be a picture of many places in America in the mid-twentieth Century. It's not...I snapped it today driving home from church.

I live about three miles from here. Where I live looks much different. Like most places, the town we call home was built in sections. Much of it sprang up when Thiokol Chemical Corporation built a rocket-building facility about twenty miles to the west. You can see the homes built during the 1950s and 1960s. They're small, a single story above ground.

Then, as farmers sold their property, new housing developments were built. They too were a reflection of their times. Larger houses, bigger yards, bigger garages--you see the pattern over and over again. Even where we live, homes built in the last twenty years. They define those who built them and those who live in them.

Still...

There's a beauty in the rural, in the structures built with wood, tin, and nails, built for livestock or to store food, and also to house those who cared for the animals, for the land.

The structures are a testament to the people who settled the high desert. They worked spring, summer, and fall to sustain them through the tough and cold winters. Then, it began all over again until they died. Most of us no longer live that lifestyle. And had those who came before not persevered, not survived, life would be much different than it is now.

When I turned down the street and saw the scene before me, it made me think of my ancestors and I'm grateful for their example. I'm also thankful there are reminders so close to where we live showing all of us, how life used to be.

Spotted The Grasshopper's Legs...One Of My Earliest Memories

 I had a meeting today in Salt Lake, actually a little south from the official Salt Lake City limits. After the meeting I was about to turn west on 5300 South when I looked at the mountain range to the east.

That's when I spotted Mt. Olympus, or what I used to call...

Grasshopper Legs.

You see, my family used to live about twenty blocks east from where I pulled my car over to snap a picture. I lived on Delmont Drive, just north of the old Cottonwood Mall. I lived there from when I was born until 1970. I was only four-years old when we moved north to a street where I lived off-and-on for fifty years.

That mountain view was something I saw every day (every day I was outside, that is...) between the ages of newborn and four. The Mt. Olympus peak was the most prominent feature of the mountain range to the east. And to a four-year old (and younger...), the peak looked like a pair of grasshopper legs. I remember few things of the time when I lived on Delmont Drive, but I've never forgotten the grasshopper legs.

In the time since our family moved, I returned to the Salt Lake valley thousands of times. I attended school and graduated from the University of Utah. I worked downtown for more than a decade. When my wife and I first married, we lived in Salt Lake for years. The thing is, you can see Mt. Olympus from anywhere in the valley, but only if you're around 5300 South do you get the perspective to see the peaks line up the way they do.

Millions of people have lived and passed through the Salt Lake Valley since 1965, millions of children grown up in the shadow of those incredible mountains. I wonder how many of them looked upon Mt. Olympus and thought it resembled the legs of a grasshopper.

I know of at least one.

Checked Out Morgan's Gourmet Cheesecakes...Pretty Darn Good

 I picked up a free sample when we entered the Cache Valley Gardener's Market and I picked up another free sample as we left. I forgot which sample I chose the first time, and when I picked "raspberry" the second time, I'm pretty sure I chose raspberry the first time, too.

Then, as if to affirm my decision, I bought a mini-cheesecake. What did I choose?

Raspberry.

It was the first time to the farmer's market in Logan. I had heard several authors would be there so we made an effort to go last Saturday. We were impressed, several booths dedicated to selling produce which is one of the main reasons we attend these types of events. They also has several booths selling prepared food, even cheesecakes.

I chatted a bit with I assume is Mr. Morgan (we didn't get that far in our conversation to know for sure...). I think I told him I'd already had a free sample. He didn't mind--he said he likes offering free samples. Part of the reason is he loves seeing the expression on people's faces when they take that first bite of cheesecake. I hope my reactions brought him the same satisfaction.

I'm no expert in cheesecake. I think the best cheesecake I ever had was served at the now defunct Heidelberg Restaurant in the beautiful foothills of Farmington, Utah. Morgan's was a close second.

If you're interested in the product, you can access their website by clicking: HERE. If you live in Northern Utah, or you're visiting, check them out. It's pretty darn good.

What Utah State University Looked Like In 1959...Thumbing Through History

I found my father's Utah State University yearbook while looking in some boxes we have not yet unpacked. There's actually three yearbooks. I chose the 1959 edition, the one where my dad graduated with his degree in Engineering.

So much history...

It also has a couple of incredible pictures of Logan, one view looking northeast, the other south from Old Main. How things have changed.

My father passed away when I was eight years old. I never got to ask him about his college days, about things they used to do, what they did for fun. Much of the yearbook has pictures of activities and the greek clubs. My dad wasn't involved in those things...he was married when he attended USU. Still, I would have loved to hear him talk about what life was like as an Aggie in 1959.

I checked the back of the book. They actually misspelled his name. Instead of Harry A. Taylor, he's immortalized in the yearbook under the name, "Marry A. Taylor." I wonder if he thought that was funny or it made him mad.

My father was born in 1924. In a few months he would have turned 98 years old. It made me think...as I thumbed through the pages, I wonder how many of those students are still with us. My father was thirty-five when he graduated. Still, the other students would be in their late 80s now, so many would still be alive. It's strange to look at page after page of faces full of promise wondering how their lives turned out.

I don't know when they stopped publishing university yearbooks. I know they didn't have them when I attended (briefly...) Utah State University in 1984, twenty-five years after my father attended. I wonder if they had yearbooks in 1984, would I be in more than just the one picture? I wonder if I'd be mad if they misspelled my name...

We'll never know.

 

Watching The Women's Euros...Great Soccer!

 I've been following the 2022 Women's Euro Soccer tournament currently taking place in England. I've got to say, the games have been amazing. Tonight, I watched the delayed German vs France game and, once again, great competition.

I admit, I am a soccer fan. I like watching all levels of the game. I especially like when the national teams play each other, and the largest tournaments...Euro Cup and World Cup bring out the best in those athletes. 

In this country soccer gets a bad rap, and women's soccer especially. I haven't watched many of the women's teams and I couldn't name a single player in the Euros. Still, there's something about when countries play each other...men or women...they give it their all.

There's one more game to be played...England vs Germany. Like I said, I don't know any of the team players or which teams are even good, but according to the commentators, England and Germany were the teams most expected to be in the final. They were right.

If you like good competition between teams fighting for national pride, check out the Euros. You won't be disappointed.

Finished A Short Story Last Night...It Felt Good

 I thank/blame the peer pressure generated from the e-mails that figuratively gave me a "kick in the pants" to start/complete my little story. After all, should't a writer be, well...writing?

Yes, they should.

I don't know how it happened, but somewhere along the way I found myself in the company of several insanely talented writers. I was welcomed into their inner circle with opened arms. Getting into the circle was relatively easy--don't be a jerk, mostly. Remaining in the circle is a little tougher...

Keep writing.

When I attended grad school and about the time my first short story was published, I wrote a lot. How much is "a lot?" It's relative. What is a lot for some is what others do before lunch. I wrote a novel in 2016 (can't believe it's been that long...), then I've slacked off. I can blame "writer's block," or "I'm busy doing other things," but every writer knows those excuses are simply that...excuses. 

This past spring, I passed on a writing retreat, one I've loved to attend in the past and look forward to attending each year. Those who did attend came up with a brilliant idea...each attendant would write a short story with only one thing connecting all the submissions...

They had to focus on one person, the same person, sort of a hero among the group. The deadline isn't for several months, but as expected, the cream of the crop writers submitted their stories right away. Of course, they were amazing. I knew I had to do something, create something, get my writing butt off the procrastination couch and contribute. 

The first draft was completed last night. It needs to be tweaked, but I'm going to get it in. I know that I will not be expelled from the circle--those inside are much too classy for that. But I feel I need to step up, do the work. Funny thing about that, I had a blast writing it.

I should do it more.

Of The Two...I Liked This Car Show More

 Last weekend I attended the second car show of the season. I'm not a car show person. Sure, I like them, but I don't go too far out of my way to attend. A great car show takes place in August in Kaysville, Utah. I particularly like that show because it's full of Volkswagens. 

I could look at old VWs all day long.

Last month I went to a large car show in Logan, Utah. I like it, but oh...it's so hot. Yes, there's some trees, but many of the cars are parked in unshaded areas. And there's almost too many cars to see. That's why I enjoyed the car show from last weekend so much.

In the video, you can clearly see this is not a big show. It's sort of a side attraction at the Tremonton Hay Days, the community's founder's day celebration. What I love about this very small show is you can see all the cars without walking a mile. If it gets too hot, you can find shade and rest (or just go home...). 

And, even though there's less than a tenth of the cars at the bigger show, you get to see beautiful cars. Sure, there's not the selection, but that's okay. I saw incredible cars from the 30s, 40s, 50s. And, I got to see my neighbor's cherry new Chevy Corvette. Stunning.

Yes, the show had its advantages. 

The only drawback...

No VWs this year.

Bummer.

Give Thanks...All That Hard Hard Work

 I came across a video today on Facebook. Interestingly enough, today is the day which the State of Utah honors those who first settled this land 175 years ago. It's called Pioneer Day, or Days of '47. Growing up in Utah, we learned all about the pioneers that were kicked out of Illinois and Missouri and eventually the United States. They travelled west until they stopped in a desert valley by a dead lake.

The video showed craftsmen assembling a wheel. I haven't done any research on the subject but I imagine this is how wagon wheels were made back in the day. As I watched, I was amazed at how hard it was to put those wheels together. 

We live in such incredible times. We drive vehicles infinitely more complex than that wheel, mostly assembled by robots and computers, and we think nothing of it as we fly down the road at speeds unobtainable centuries ago.

Today I'm grateful for those craftsman who made it possible for people to travel across the continent. They set up communities and societies that changed the world. I am in awe of their talents, those who lived hundreds of years ago, and those who carry on those skills today.

I Mean, Were Trumpeters Really This Cool...?

 There they lie, a stack of records on the floor of a house soon to be void of records, furniture, clothes...basically everything. The son and daughter-in-law of the past home owner and soon-to-be past record owner held an estate sale. The woman had so much stuff, stuff they had to clear out.

Stuff we didn't need.

When we walked inside the house, I spotted the stack of records. Old records can be cool so I started thumbing. No 70s hair bands, no 80s alternative (I thought, maybe...), but there were several 50s and 60s standbys. That's when I came across the classic, Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass: What Now My Love.

It's one of the albums you could have found in my home growing up, along with several Sing Along With Mitch, and, of course, the original cast recording of Lex de Azevedo's, Saturday's Warrior. Did I buy it?

I did not, though I considered buying it. It came down to the fact I would probably never play it.

But I took a picture of it. That's almost as good.

Tonight I looked through pictures from the last week and I stopped at the photo of Herb and some woman cuddling up to him as he stood stoic, with mariachi players in the background and a trumpet at he ready. It got me wondering...

Was there ever a time when trumpeters were that cool?

I believe we as a society have lowered our appreciation for truly talented individuals, especially those in the arts. Musicians nowadays need to be expert in social media to be successful. A slick campaign and a nice set of...teeth can take a person almost anywhere.

I think, back in the day, people though Herb was the bee's knees. I think they really thought he was that cool...maybe not as cool as they lady practically glued to his side thinks he is, but cool. Yes. In jr. high when I played trumpet (clarinet, actually...), the best player was Clif Orem. And yes, he was one cool dude. Come to think of it, he still is.

So, I guess to answer the question...yes, they were. And to many, they still are.

Amazing...Simply Amazing

 "Take the umbrella," my wife told me before I left.

It turned out to be a lifesaver.

I knew they tested rockets at the site for years. I'd catch a short video on the local news of the latest test firing and I always wanted to see on in person. Just after we moved, we were sitting around our new house and we felt a low rumble, not anything big, like a heavy truck driving by. Then we saw the plume of smoke over a distant mountain and we knew...

They'd tested another rocket.

For their latest test, the company sent out a flyer in the mail--the next test will take place such and such. I decided now was my chance. Since I was a small child, I remember the watching the moon landings on TV, looking up at the moon and thinking there were people walking up there. It's always fascinated me.

I called a friend, an engineer who works at the site. He gave me some suggestions on when to arrive, what to bring. Sunscreen, water, a chair. The wife suggested the outdoor umbrella. I got there early and set up camp.

One thing I expected to find (and one thing I did find...) was a group of people who liked to chat. I spent a lot of time talking to a kid (he was a rocket scientist, but he looked like a kid...) who knew all about the program and the significance of the test. He knew future rocket dates and when they expect to start re-sending humans to the moon. Amazing. I also met another engineer from Texas. It was fun to chat with him--I love hearing about our state form those who did not grow up here.

After a few delays--nothing too long--the countdown resumed. I had no idea what to expect. My friend told me "You see if before you hear it." The clock ticked down. You could feel the excitement rise with each passing second. Finally, T-minus 10 seconds. Everyone counted down, then...

This little tube looking like a white pencil a 1.6 miles away came to life. The roar of the engine hit seven seconds later. You could hear the crackling, all that power...incredible.

We watched until the fire died, the huge plume of smoke rose above us. We all cheered.

Everyone hurried to their cars to crank the a/c and escape the 100˚ heat. As I sat in my car, I watched a slow-moving fire spread over the mountain caused by the test. I don't know, but I think the grooves carved into the mountainside are fire breaks, to stop any fire that eventually happens at these things. Finally, my car made it out of the parking lot and I came home.

I may ever get to see a rocket launch from the coastline. This may be the closest I ever get. And if that's the case, I'm okay with it. Watching the test firing was, in a word...amazing.

Come With Me To Bothwell City...Where The People Are Nice And The Skies Are Pretty

 Last night, we drove a little west and a little south. We stopped at a friend's house. I stepped away from the van and looked west.

The view was spectacular.

Maybe it's because I'm growing older every day...maybe it's because we lived in one place for so long and everything (still...) seems to new...maybe it's because we just happen to be in the right place at the right time...

Then again, maybe it's because it's so beautiful up here.

I'll go with the latter.

One thing that I kept thinking over and over again when we moved was, "Why aren't homes being built in all those fields?" It's a valid question, especially considering where we lived. It seemed every square foot of land was being gobbled up for houses/townhomes/apartments/RV pads. Here, well...there's room for hundreds of thousands of homes/townhomes/apartments/RV pads.

Bothwell is a small community just over the rise from where we live. Farmland out paces homes by a huge factor. They grow wheat and corn, and other things that my uneducated mind doesn't know. It is such an amazing place. 

Of course, amazing places cannot stay hidden forever. Soon (much too soon for the residents...) the next generation will see dollar signs and those fields will be divided and subdivided, roads then homes, then parks, churches, even RV pads will rise from the ground and trees will diminish the views of those pretty skies.

Come with me to Bothwell City...where the people are nice and the skies are pretty.

We Found The Kitten...I Hope The Owner Finds It, Too

 The dog spotted her first. Instead of instantly grabbing the ball and returning it to us, he lingered, his head low, his body sill.

He saw something.

Then, from under the fence we saw two small yellow eyes looking back. The dog barked, the kitten retreated, but after the sun set, the kitten no longer hid behind the fence. She found a way in the yard and waited for us to come back outside.

That's when she stole our hearts.

The little tuxedo kitten with a limp made her way over to my son. It was so tiny. Because it was late and hurt, we didn't want to leave her outside in case predators were about. We brought her inside the garage, gave her some food (which she ate voraciously...) and wondered what we should do. It was too late to go around the neighborhood to see if anyone was missing a kitten. We made plans.

The next day we printed "Found" posters and attached them to signs on the nearby street signs. Then, we did a little research on what to do when you find an animal. Turns out, it's illegal for us to just "adopt" it. We had to take it to a shelter. Because it was the weekend, if we didn't take it to a shelter that day, we'd be housing a new, possibly injured cat for four days.

Too, too long.

My wife and I loaded up the kitten and drove her to the shelter. It crushed the kids, but they understood we could not keep her. It crushed us, too, but we figured if someone responded to the poster, we could tell them we took the animal to the shelter and they could pick her up there. Also, the shelter said they would check out her foot and treat any issues...something we could not do ourselves.

That was last weekend. We have no idea what happened to her. Of course, we hope she found either her original owner or a new one. We'll probably never know, but, at least...we hope.

You've Simply MUST Check Out Craig Nybo's Podcast..."Terrifying Lies"

 I know, I know...it seems everyone has a podcast nowadays. Heck, I even stuck my toe into the podcast waters many years ago. I stopped because it's a LOT of work and I didn't have the heart to continue.

I'm so glad Craig Nybo has decided to put in the work and start his own.

I've blogged about Craig several times. He's a good subject about which to blog because he is one of the most talented individuals I have ever met. Writer--awesome, musician--the dude can bring it, promoter--he can sell anything. But, as talented as he is, he's a better person.

Craig started a podcast called, Terrifying Lies. It blends his love of music, writing, and telling stories. For some reason, I put off subscribing to the podcast until this week. I've listened to several episodes so far and I am a fan. I should not have been surprised. Each episode (so far...) has included a short story and an original song, both song and story originated for the same person.

I should say that the stories have not been tame. Craig has a way of conjuring some creepy stuff--not "so scary you'll lose your lunch," creepy, but the kind of story that stays with you, makes you uncomfortable, makes you squirm. Be warned, dear reader. If you like original music and stories that are, in a word, terrifying, please check out Craig's latest joint. You can access his podcast site: HERE.

Yes, it seems everyone has a podcast nowadays. Not many appear born to the art form. Craig is one of them.

Last Day To Nominate FANTASTIC Writers...Hurry!

Yes, hurry! 

Time is running out!

I have garnered many writer friends in the past decade. And, because we're humans and we like to bestow awards on excellence. Also, because we're humans, we strive to be the ones on which those awards are bestowed.

Enter, the 2022 Dragon Awards.

Sure, there are other awards given to writing, from an award given out at a county fair to the Nobel prize. Each come with their own prestige, their own gravitas. In my opinion, many of the literary awards have lost their shine over the past couple of years. One that hasn't (for me...) is the Dragon Awards. Here's some background from the Dragon Awards website:

Welcome to the annual Dragon Awards! A way to recognize excellence in all things Science Fiction and Fantasy. These awards are by the fans, for the fans, and are your chance to reward those who have made real contributions to SF, books, games, comics, and shows. There is no qualification for submitting nominations or voting - no convention fees or other memberships are needed. The only requirement is that you register, confirm your email address for tracking nominations and voting purposed, and agree to the rules. This ensures that all votes count equally.

I love awards voted by the fans. 

This year's Dragon Awards deadline for nominations is tomorrow, 7/19/22. You can access the website by clicking: HERE. Again, from the awards website:

IMPORTANT NOTES: (please read)

• Nominations should be first released between 7/1/2021 and 6/30/2022.
• This form is to collect your nominations and sign you up for the voting process.
• Do not nominate a book for more than one category. If the same book is added more than once, all your nominations will be null.
• A confirmation email will be sent the first time you submit nominations to verify a valid email address.
• Your email address is used for tracking your nominations and to sign you up for the voting process.
• If you do not agree to the rules and confirm your email, your nominations will not be processed and you will not be added to the voting process.
• Fields marked with* are required.

So, you've got a limited time to nominate your friends, your idols, your literary crushes. But, hurry--you've only got a few hours left!

Give Thanks...For Book Giveaways! Now's Your Chance To Win Mine--And Other--Books

 If you want a chance to pick up FIVE books for free, check out my friend's July 2022 Five-Book Giveaway.

Click: HERE to participate.

The five books to the winners include:

The Witcher Chime, by Amity Green

Paternus, by Dyrk Ashton

Mako, by Ian J. Malone

The Kidnap Plot, by D.J. Butler

Chaser, by Scott William Taylor

The Details:

Books will be shipped to winners from the individual authors, which means that if you win, it rain books on you in August, as five separate packages full of signed goodness come your way. Note that if you live outside the U.S. and shipping to where you live is prohibitive, some authors may send you ebook copies rather than physical books.

Enter here for a chance to win! Enter your email address, and you have one entry in the drawing.

BUT CHECK THIS OUT: In addition, you’ll be sent a confirmation email (check your junk or spam folder if you don’t see it in your inbox). The link in that email will send you to a page of social media sharing buttons. If you share the giveaway via those buttons, then for each person who enters the giveaway through your shared links, you get more entries in the giveaway.

We would REALLY like people to reshare this, so we’re upping the referral bonus from the standard 3 to 7. In otherwords, IF YOUR FRIEND ENTERS THROUGH A LINK YOU SHARED VIA THE SOCIAL MEDIA LANDING PAGE, YOU GET SEVEN MORE CHANCES TO WIN.

(PLEASE NOTE: Entering the giveaway will enroll you in the mailing list of each author. Being on the mailing lists means you’ll get notifications about more giveaways, appearances, and publications. It’s easy to unsubscribe if you don’t want to be on any or all of the lists, and we won’t be offended.)

So, here's your chance to pick up free reading! Doesn't get much better than that!

I'm grateful for my writer friends. Seriously, a better group of people is hard to find. And I'm grateful for Dave for including my little story about a boy who smuggles his dog aboard a spaceship headed to an animal-less planet (you know you want to read that one...).

Check out the site, sign up, win books, become more enlightened and a better person--all guaranteed.

Why Are Apricots So Darn Hard To Grow...?

 My parents bought ten acres of land on the hill in Farmington in 1970. I think they paid $6,000 for it. That property, if it were still the original land, would be worth millions today. Not a bad fifty-year investment.

Part of the land, at the time fifty years ago, was used as an orchard, cherry and apricot trees. As the years and decades passed, my parents sold off parcels of land for others to build. The cherry and apricot trees had to go. Today, I believe there's one cherry tree and an apricot tree remaining.

As a kid, I remembered bushels and bushels of apricots each summer. There was never a season without apricots. Now, I see life as an adult, no longer through child's eyes. Based on what I've experienced with growing my own apricots, there's no way those childhood memories are completely true.

Growing apricots in Northern Utah, it seems, can be tough.

We had a small apricot tree at our last house, and we have another small tree at our new house. The old tree did not produce apricots on an annual basis. Granted, the tree was not in the best of shape, but late frosts and other factors made it tough for the fruit to grow.

This year our new tree was doing great. We had so many apricots. Maybe it wasn't "so many," but it seemed that way and we were excited for our first harvest.

I should have remembered growing apricots can be tough, sometimes.

We watched as the fruit began to ripen, not to the point of picking, but soon. Then, the windstorm hit. We get a lot of wind up here--another storm is no big deal. But, when we went outside after it was over, we saw almost all the fruit on the ground. We had to throw it all out.

Bummer.

Oh well...we could go to any grocery store in the state and buy the same amount of fruit we lost for a few bucks. Not eating the fruit was not the point...it was not eating the stuff that grew on our trees we looked forward to.

There's no guarantee next year we'll get any, such is the way of things. I hope we do. But maybe not, because apricots can be so darn hard to grow.

Our Church Building Has Dressing Rooms...Does Yours?

 One cool things about older buildings (actually, there are many cool things about older buildings...), is that they are unique. In our quest for efficiency, we've sacrificed many of the things that unique buildings possess. In our religion, we have a lot of buildings...fewer and fewer of the old ones still exist. That's a shame. Of course, I can understand the need to upgrade, to build the new ones in a like manner--it's cost-effective. I imagine that's the biggest reason. But there's something about the old churches, the new ones just can't touch.

We attend church in a century-old building on Factory Road in Garland, Utah. It is beautiful. There's a balcony in the main hall, and doors to the outside everywhere...I can't recall another church with so many exterior doors. It's also got something I've never seen in any other LDS church building...

Men's and women's dressing rooms.

You may be thinking, "That's not unusual...our church as rooms where men and women change after, for example, baptisms. But no, dear reader. This is not that. These dressing rooms are nowhere near the baptismal font. No, these rooms are near the stage. Therefore, they're dressing rooms for theatrical productions.

As a actor, I love that there are dressing rooms for performers in the church. It means that when they designed the building, they felt performances were worthy enough to dedicate floor space to the craft.

I've not been in the rooms. I wonder how often they're even used...for the past couple of years, lots of things have been shelved, including theatrical productions. Hopefully, that changes. Hopefully, the dressing rooms will be used again soon.

Seeking Calm? Maybe It's Blowing In The Wind...

 We found the outdoor umbrella at a yard sale several weeks ago. We were seeking refuge from the sun. 

Turns out, it's provides refuge of another sort...

It's darn soothing.

At our last home, our neighbor planted quaking aspen trees. Those trees have their good points and not so good points. I do not like the way the trees invade all the ground they surround. We did not prevent the trees from spreading and we had shoots popping up in our lawn.

But, I will always love the sound of wind rustling through the leaves on a quaking aspen tree.

We've moved to a--for the most part--treeless environment. It makes for spectacular views of clouds and sky, but I miss the sound of wind in the trees. 

Enter, the umbrella.

At first, I thought the plastic tassels to be "kitschy," but in a good way. It was different from all the other umbrellas...we thought it cool. The past couple of weeks we've found ourselves spending some time on the back patio in the mornings. The air is crisp and the breeze, almost perfect. The sound of the wind blowing over the umbrella is a great way to calm whatever ails a person. Something about that sound...I can't really explain it, it takes the edge off quite nicely.

Yes, we bought it because it looked fun. Glad it's more than that.

Oh, We Tried It...We Were Left Wanting

 About a mile from our house is our local McDonald's, and because everything is farther away up here, we're glad it's so close. We don't eat there all the time, but it's a good back-up when we're trying to figure out what to eat for dinner and everything in the house sounds "just okay."

Because of where we live, latitudinal-wise on the globe, at this time of year, it's getting warm, and by warm I don't mean, "fry an egg on the sidewalk" warm, but warm enough for me to want to stay inside until September. You add needing to pick up a quick dinner and warm temperatures, when we pulled up to the Drive-Thru, and saw the ad for the New Frozen Coke...boy, did it sound good.

Turns out is was"just okay."

I think in my mind, I over-thought it. I thought it would be the ultimate way to cool down and find relief from the summer sun. I think I built it up in my mind to be so refreshing, I'd feel instantly better. We bought three, one for me, one for my wife, and one for our daughter. We bought them home and drank them with out dinners. 

Yes, they were frozen...like a 7-Eleven Slurpee. No, the cups were not as big as the famously large fountain drinks McDonald's usually serves (and cost more, too...). Those are negatives. And, the Coke was a little flat--don't know if the freezing process flattened the drink or not, but it dulled our buzz a bit.

No, the drink was not the savior from the heat as I had wished. Will I get another one? Maybe. I'll probably just get a medium Coke...more my style.

A Monster Of A Kickstarter...Support Your Local Author

 The kickstarter began today...

It, basically, kicked butt.

And it's only Day 1.

I am a fan of Larry Correia. He's a local author who has made it big as a no-nonsense, writer of gritty, funny, take-no-prisoners fiction covering many genres. If you know anything about Larry, you know he has several passions...writing (obviously...), guns, and miniatures are but a few. Larry started a kickstarter today focusing on miniatures and games.

You should check it out. For more information, you can access the kickstarter website by clicking: HERE.

The success (so far...) of the kickstarter is due to Larry's fans. They put the "fan" in fanatical. Larry has said many times that he has the best fans in the world. They've stood by him though some tough storms. This is Larry's way to say thinks to them, and for the fans to return the favor.

So, if you're a fan of good writing, local authors, and Monster Hunter International Miniatures Games, click on the site and sign up. Knowing Larry, he won't put our an inferior product...it's just not his way.

Oh...How Things Have Changed

 I've only been away from working daily in downtown Salt Lake City six years.

A lot can happen in six years.

Just look around.

I had a meeting in a building where I worked for fourteen years. When you work in one building for almost a decade and a half, you get to know not only the building, but the surrounding buildings, streets, even people. It's hard not to. We would take walks around the neighborhood on breaks, I would see the progress made as I took public transportation to and from work almost every work day.

Man, have things changed. 

I knew of many of the changes. There's a building where previously the was a small patch of grass next to the new Harmons Grocery Store. There's a new building going up where the Hardees/Carls Jr restaurant once stood. I didn't know there's an entire block of small bohemian second-hand stores that are gone...completely gone, being replaced by apartment buildings. There were other new things as well.

And perhaps the most iconic change is what's happening to the city's most recognizable structure...the Salt Lake LDS Temple. It's going through major renovations to make it earthquake-proof. If you didn't know it was the temple, you might not recognize it at all. 

As I drove home, traffic patterns remained the same (I guess some things never change...), though the cars/trucks/suvs/motorcycles were newer. I thought about all those differences as I left. The world--is in a constant stage of change, not just downtown. And time and change is relative. A bug may only live a day, or a building may survive centuries. I suppose if you lived forever, change would be on an entirely different level of amazing.

I don't know the next time I'll be downtown. Even if it's only a year, in some places it'll be a completely different place.

Give Thanks...Kind Of Missed The Party This Year...

 This past week, the town where I lived for many years had their annual city celebration. If was once called "Fiesta Days," but fearing the wrath of men, they changed it to "Festival Days."

So much better...

I'd have to say I took the event for granted for many years. Sure, we'd watch the fireworks signaling the end of the festivities, and sometimes I'd even watch the parade in person (a time or two I was in the parade...). But, I never really took the celebration too much to heart. Last year we could no longer call ourselves citizens of the city and we missed the event. This year, however, I missed it both literally and figuratively. 

The first thing that got to us this year was the announcement of the 2022 Festival Days Grand Marshalls, Betty and Woody Whitlock. We've been neighbors to the Whitlocks for decades...finer people you cannot find. They are loving, giving, and most of all, hilarious. When you think, "Salt of the Earth," they should have a picture of them in the dictionary under that phrase. We would have loved to have seen them waiving to the crowds as their car lazily drove down Main Street. We would have gone to the parade for sure this year just for them.

The town to the north and east of where we now live held a similar celebration this past weekend. They had a parade and fireworks. We missed the parade and caught the fireworks. It wasn't the same. And that's okay--communities should be unique and not try to be like something they're not.

Yes, I have a good idea of how things transpired about 50 miles to the south of us the past couple of days. Runners exhausted themselves at the Fun Run, kids scrambled for thrown candy on the parade route, goods and services were exchanged on the park next to the elementary school I attended and the baseball diamonds where I played. And in the evening, the townsfolk peered skyward as explosions of light and sounds delighted the residents and their friends and families.

Yeah, sort of missed the old town this year. I'm grateful for the memories.

Maybe The Best Phone Picture I've Taken...Of The Moon

 I've commented several times on this blog about how there are some things I cannot photograph that turn out as good as what my eyes see. The moon is one of those things. I've got a nice DSLR camera and a lens that brings the moon to show up nicely in the frame. But, when I click the shutter, the finished product fails to impress.

Bummer.

I can't seem to capture the shadows on the moon, the craters, the Sea of Tranquility. I'm sure if I did a little research on how to photograph the moon, and more importantly, spent a ton of money on photographic gadgets, I could do it. I'm sure I could, but I haven't, so my moon photos don't look that good.

Last night, the skies above our valley were stunning. As the sun set, I spent a lot of time trying to capture what I was seeing. I also noticed the waxing moon in the southern sky so I snapped a picture. In the photo I can see craters and a texture to the moon. I call that a success.

My phone is a few years old, and I'm sure it's going to be with me for a few years more. The camera was almost state-of-the-art when my phone was new. It's nowhere near that, now. Would I love a newer phone with better cameras? Sure. Do I need one? Nope.

It was fun to go through my photos from last night and notice the photo I took of the moon. And even though it's not great, I'm pretty sure it's the best one I've ever taken...

Of the moon...

By phone.

I Wish I Knew Who These People Are...

 When we asked the kids if they wanted to go with my wife and me for yard sale finds this morning, I was surprised all the kids wanted to go, so we loaded up the minivan (complete with dog...) and headed out. I thought we'd find some of the usual things at the yard sales, books, clothes, maybe something useful in the kitchen or for emergency kits, and we did.

Didn't think we'd find a lot of paintings.

Likewise, I didn't think my kids would buy art.

We came home with several paintings, one an original hand-painted picture my son bought.

When we were looking at the art, I pulled out my phone and tried to do a quick internet search to see if I could identify the artist who created the pieces. And I think I could have found out, if only I could read their signatures.

Now, far be it from me to criticize a person for their less than perfect penmanship. Mine can hardly be called legible at times. Still, with my art, I've only signed books that I've written or that contain a story of mine. If they come across my signature and can't read it, they can just look up at the book and see the name.

Also, I don't want to judge these artists. Perhaps they were tortured and had a tough time completing the painting by adding their name. Maybe they suffered from so much anguish considering their life's choices that they purposely wanted no one to know who it was that actually created the art. Could it be just tough to paint legible letters? So many considerations...

The reality is, these people gave up time and energy to produce something that didn't exist before and they should be applauded for it. I just wish I knew who they were.