Happy Birthday, Big Brother...Here's To Another Year

Another year older...it happens to all of us, as long as we keep breathing...to the best of us, the worst of us, the tall and the small, the rich and the poor. The passing of time is the great equalizer.

Today, my big brother reaches another milestone, or is it millstone...? 

Since he's my big brother, I've never known a day without him. My first memories include him. Us as children, us as college roommates, us at family gatherings...they all include him. The older we get, the more memories we have, also--unfortunately--many of those memories I can't remember, new memories replace the old.

One of my most prized photographs is a picture of my family, the three of us as children and my parents. It's understandable that my parents have passed (my dad's 100th birthday is next year...), but now, my brother and I are all that remain. 

The two of us.

As my sister called us, "The boys."

The boys had all the advantages, according to her, and it's easy for a younger sister to see it that way. The boys were always together. The boys always got along (at least, that's how she saw it and was right most of the time...). Yes, the boys...

The boys.

Happy birthday, Brother! You'll always be two years older than me, two years of birthdays ahead, two years wiser...well, maybe that's not always true. I can't imagine life without you so you'd better take care of yourself. Love you, bro.

The Fruit Salad Reviews Are In...It's A Hit!

 The game's been out about a month...about ten days on Steam. Most of the reviews are glowing. Terms like "addictive," and "worth the money" pepper the reviews. I can personally vouch for those opinions, because...

They're the same ones I use.

I'm a novice when it comes to the latest games. I've been playing the same three smartphone video games for years...the same three. That says a couple of things about me. 1. it means I'm boring. 2. it means I like what I like. 3. it means I'm cheap (that's a given...). 4. when I like something, I stick with it.

Heaven help me when this games goes mobile. 

Here are some quotes from the reviews:

Fruit Salad is a simple, physics-based, combo-oriented game. Being easy on the eyes and very casual in nature make it a good choice for relaxing and killing some time.

Crack cocaine synthesized as a videogame, for the low price of two smackaroonies

pleases my squirrel brain immensely

Im fat and this is my only exposure to fruit. Love it!

THERE WAS NO FRUIT SALAD!??!?!?!? JUST FRUIT?!?! HUH?!?!

Addicting and fun Faces on the fruits are great detail I like them. Physics are working well no rocket fruits on their way to the moon yet.

There's more...many more reviews than I've ever got on any of my books or stories. Yes, I'm a proud papa.

Go to Steam, search for Fruit Salad and buy it. I hope you like it. Like I said, apparently, I'm not the only one.

Experiencing Utah's Moment Of Loudness...First Hand

It's something I wanted to experience, even though I'm sure everyone in attendance would rather not do it. Because the tradition only exists because two athletes are no longer with us, their passing occurred a year apart, devastating to fans, coaches, players, player's families.

The pain remains.

The Moment of Loudness helps ease that pain.

I'd heard about it, of course, and networks would comment on it, but no one ever showed the entire event. On Saturday, I attended my first home game in years, and as the third quarter of the football game transitioned to the fourth, everyone stood and took out their cellphones. 

They all knew.

Soon, so did I.

During the last quarter change, everyone stands and turns their attention to the Jumbotron. A short video plays with scenes of the team and fans. It also shows the two players, their infectious smiles...we are reminded of their talents and personalities. I get the feeling they were better people than athletes.

Then, on cue, the sound begins, building from a few, then everyone in the stadium adds their voice, their tribute as cellphone lights replace faces in the stands. Finally, the sounds of thousands of people drown out the narrator.

"It's amazing," I tell my friend who invited me.

"It's even better at night," he responds, and I can picture it in my mind. I'm sure it is.

I know of no other tradition like it anywhere in the country. Perhaps there is, and if so, it doesn't really matter. It happens on the University of Utah campus during home football games, and it's truly special.

Family on three.

Here's Your Chance...To Vote For Greatest Baker!

 Ever looked at something someone created and think, "How in the world did they do that?" And then, just as quickly think, "I could never do that."

Happens to me all the time.

Especially when I see culinary creations from Melissa. 

It's incredible.

And now you can vote in a competition to crown the greatest baker by clicking: HERE.

I don't know how long Melissa has been involved in this artistic endeavor, years at least. I remember seeing posts on social media of her work. Of course, some cakes have more "wow factor" than others, but each required advanced creative talent. If we lived closer, we might have the opportunity to see the works of edible art close-up.

I voted, and once I did, the website asked if I wanted to increase the vote count by donating money to a cause (I didn't do that...). If you participate in these kinds of things, check out the site and see if Melissa should get your vote.

I'm still wondering how in the world she makes these cakes. I know I probably can't, but I'm glad there are people out there that let their lights shine.

Give Thanks...A Well-Stocked Wall

 I stood in a friends home office recently and admired his wall. The wall contained no painting, or photograph, or, heaven-forbid, a flat-screen TV. No, his wall contained books...best-sellers, scriptures, works of fiction, motivational books, financial books, classics.

A well-stocked wall.

I have a home office. I have a bookshelf. Actually, it's more like basic shelving that contains books. Most of the books in my office are personal journals...over seventy.

But my office wall isn't what I saw earlier. Scanning his titles I realized, the wall of books tells me so much about the man who assembled them. From the selections I know what he deems important, what he considers art, what aspects of his life he feels need improving, what he enjoys reading for fun. It's a map, a guide to a personality...to a soul.

I noticed several rare editions, but a majority of the works can be found in your local bookstore, or even second-hand or thrift store. Point is, for relatively little money (especially compared to the amount of knowledge contained therein...), you can create a well-stocked wall for yourself. Be patient, take your time, a book here, a classic there, books to improve yourself, books for fun. In time, your wall will become more just a collection of works. It will transform into a resource, a reference, a sanctuary. 

I'm thankful we live in a society that allows us to gather and keep books. Some societies don't. I'm thankful I was able to check out his collection. I'm thankful for his friendship and his library helped create the man he is today. I'm thankful for well-stocked walls wherever they may be.

When Our Neighbor Checks Our Our Yard...

We have a curious neighbor. I believe it's a "she" and she and her family live next door. After we moved, we put in a fence. I know many don't like fences, but for us, it's been wonderful, especially for our dog. He's a runner and even though our backyard isn't huge, it allows him to run and get some exercise. 

It also keeps out things like other dogs, people, things that don't want to go to the trouble of scaling a fence.

It won't keep out everything, however. We keep finding little presents left by cats. If a cat wants to get someplace, it usually gets its wish. Also, I think if a deer really wanted to get into our backyard, it could just jump over the fence, and because the fence doesn't go all the way to the ground in some places, little critters can get inside.

One of my favorite activities to do with our dog is to play fetch with dog toys. The dog likes rubber balls the best. Problem...balls can roll under the fence and into the neighbor's yard. It's happened. It's not he biggest deal, but we'd like to keep our dog toys. We found a way to help prevent the loss of balls. After we mowed the lawn, we would not trim along the fence line. The other week I noticed, several spots along the fence where the grass had been flattened.

One time while plying with our dog outside, I found out why. 

The little dog next door likes to check out our yard.

And, it looks like if she wanted to, she could shimmy underneath and play in our yard.

We found out earlier this year that our dog does not like other dogs, so I'm glad the little fella doesn't come all the way under the fence. When our dog sees the neighbor, he'll run over and bark. The other dog retreats (smart move...). Maybe one day she'll be brave enough to come all the way under.

Then again, maybe she's been doing it for months and we just never knew.

Truly Blessed...

 Like millions of others, we gathered yesterday and broke bread with family. We did more than eat, of course. The day is more than the sum of its parts.

It's Thanksgiving.

My wife and I were fortunate enough to have our four children, two children-in-laws, and the grandbaby attend. We also had my son-in-law's family all meet at my wife's mother's house. After the big meal, we gathered for a photo...to preserve the moment in pictures. 

I'm appreciative of photos. 

It's a snapshot of time, of the event that brought us together. When I look at the photo, I wonder how life will change in the upcoming twelve months. The grandbaby will look/act/sound much different. He'll be running around getting into things, as toddlers are wont to do. The rest of us will be a year older as well.

God willing, we'll all be around to celebrate, whether we gather at the same place or not. God willing our health will hold--maybe even improve, though statistics say otherwise. Will I be able to look at these pictures at next year's Thanksgiving and smile at the wonderful memories created, or will will the picture mean more, will it show more?

Time will tell.

We had a wonderful day, stress free (except if you count stress on clothing...), full of great food and good times. When I look at these photos I'm reminded yet again how blessed I truly am.

Hyggeligt...What A Perfect Word

 We've had a crazy summer and fall. Our daughter got married in June and because of work schedules and other factors, our home has been a place to sleep, eat, converse. It's also been a storage unit because when a child gets married and begins a new life, they amass a lot of stuff. That stuff was in our house.

It's no big deal, really. We know it's temporary.

At least, we hope it's temporary.

Our house is adequate for our needs. That doesn't mean we have empty spare rooms here and there waiting to be filled with stuff. Some of that stuff sat in front of our fireplace. In the summer, it's no big deal, but since it's autumn and the temperatures are falling, we need that fireplace, if nothing else, for the ambiance. Last month the boxes were relocated to their new home, so the other night we "fired" up the fireplace, and the result was...

Hyggeligt.

There's a good chance you've heard of "hygge." It's Danish and it's trendy. I first learned the word back in January, 1985 when I prepared to spend two years of my life living in the small Scandinavian country of Denmark. Like many words in different languages, there's really no true translation of hygge in English. The closest is cozy, but that doesn't do hygge justice. Hyggeligt means full of hygge, or full of cozy. For what hygge means, it's a perfect word.

People have often asked me what hygge is exactly. The best way I can describe it is sitting in a room, a cold winter wind blasts outside. Inside, the room is warmed by friends, family sitting in comfortable furniture, hot chocolate and pastries on the coffee table, a fire in the fire place. Conversation swirls around the room, jokes, laughs, even tears. To me, this is hygge, and that room--that space--is hyggeligt.

Glad it's back.

Memories On The Wall...

I think I only recognize one building...the school. If it's the same building, there's currently a huge hole in the south side big enough for a backhoe to drive inside. As far as I can tell, the one-time place of learning is now a garage for large equipment.

Memories...

The other pictures (and I didn't take photos of all the pictures...) hung on walls in an unused section of our local pizza joint, a room ignored by patrons and employees alike. The photos show how life looked--in black and white, of course--back in the day. Since I didn't live here back in the day, I assume they're pictures from our little town, anyone who lived during the actual time when the pictures were taken is either gone or well on their way.

I think I like old photos for much of the same reason I love new photos. Each can tell a story, or many stories. Everyone who see a picture interprets it differently based on personal experiences, likes, dislikes, even moods and attitudes when looking at the slices of life captured on film.

How we view art tells us as much about the observer as the art itself.

The room in which the photos hang is darkened, currently used as a storage space, four walls where couples, families, happy people, lonely people once sat and shared food, shared stories, jokes, memories. The framed pictures stand as a testament to history...

How fitting they adorn the walls of an empty room, a room where memories began.

It's That Time Of Year Again...

I wonder how many of my neighbors participated this year. I wonder the same thing almost every year, especially on off-season elections, and you can't get any more "off-season" than this year.

On our ballot we picked those running for city council. That's it. No bond issues, no judges trying to keep their jobs, no mayors/congresspeople/senators.

Still, there's something about filling out the ballot and dropping it off, or standing in front of a voting machine to cast my decision that makes the process exciting. Maybe I'm weird that way.

One thing I learned today that I did not know before is they have in-person voting in our little hamlet. Because of covid and the nightmare it caused with elections, I thought they had eliminated in-person voting and just mailed out ballots. When I went to drop off our already filled out ballots, I went inside and that's where I saw several ladies sitting around a table waiting for voters.

I asked and they answered...they were there for those wanting to vote on election day.

I dropped off the ballots and took a couple of "I Voted" stickers...you know, as proof that we voted. It's election day and I feel good about taking part...

Again.

Want A Great View...? Timing Helps

Where we live, hillside properties are, in a word, rare. To the east is a mountain range that I read somewhere is one of the steepest mountains in America. I was unaware of that fact, but they did look steep. Steep mountains make it tough for development, residential or otherwise. To the east, there's not a lot of homes on the mountainside.

To the west of us, that's a different story. We have foothills and people have taken advantage of it. We actually considered buying a building lot when we were thinking of moving to almost Idaho. Sure, it would mean renting someplace for months until the home was built--something we did not want to do. The view almost made the sacrifice worth it...

Almost.

We ended up on the north side of the valley on a gentle rise which affords wonderful views. Turns out, others like the views as well and new homes are popping up all over. The latest is a one-story home in the 55+ community. It's on the top of the lane. My son, who is studying Construction Technology, and I decided to take an unofficial tour as dusk descended on the valley. Walking into the main room, we saw the home's showpiece...the view looking south.

Beautiful.

My mother-in-law's house sits atop the same hill, just a little lower on the street from the home currently under construction. You might think the views in her home would be equally spectacular.

You'd be wrong.

It has to do with timing.

You see, when her home was built, they were using only certain types of windows...the ones in every house built before we arrived. We were told those windows were the only ones available. They're adequate, but they don't allow for the stunning views available to the hillside homes. They also sided the homes with certain materials differently back in the day. As building prices came down a year or so later, the newer homes had different siding options. 

Had we bought or built years later, I think the homes would look different. Maybe they'd all have those amazing window views. Of course, we'll never know. And, had we waited, the homes might not have been available and would certainly have cost us much much more.

It's all because of timing.

Give Thanks...For A Video Game?

I've blogged about it before...once, back when my son's artwork showed up in a real life, actual, "able to purchase" video game. The game's called Fruit Salad, and I finally got to play it.

Darn MacBooks!

Sorry, scratch that. It's not the MacBook...well, actually it is. The game came out and they had to do a little more work to get it up and running on my Mac. Tonight was the first time it actually worked and I got to play. I know I'm biased, but...

It's a great game!

I'm already addicted, which isn't necessarily a good thing.

We have four children, each have their strengths, and the opposite. Each have strong personalities. Each bring unlimited possibilities to the table. And since life seems to be racing--not walking, jogging, or running, but racing--by, for me it wasn't that long ago when my children were young, sneaking treats from the pantry and laughing at Spongebog Squarepants. When they're young, you're doing everything to keep them alive, but occasionally, I found myself wondering how they'd turn out, what they'd end up doing, where would they live, work, marry (if it's in the cards...)? If you told me fifteen years ago, what they'd be doing now, I'd have been shocked.

But, not overly. 

I know I'm biased, but they're great kids.

Plus, they're not done with their stories, with what they'll become, how they'll turn out, where they'll live, work, marry (half have already decided that question...). 

My son's game is available on Steam. Just search for, "Fruit Salad" and you'll find it. And, it's only a buck fifty to buy. I'm thankful to live long enough to see my children answer some of those questions. The game is just one of the things I'm proud of...there's so much more, things maybe only I see, things that will not change the world. I'm thankful to be their dad, and thankful to brag about them on this blog.

Give Fruit Salad a try. Maybe you'll get addicted, too.

A Few Weeks Without Cable Sports...How It's Going

Back in the day, when we couldn't afford cable, I regularly missed many things, movies, TV shows, and especially sporting events. Life went on, of course. I'd read about it the next day in the newspapers (we could afford those...), and my friends and I would talk about the games at school/work.

Then, I got a job with the cable company. I worked there for two years.

And we got hooked.

There were times in the past thirty years when we didn't have cable, but we'd find a way to hook it back up. Then, when life revolved around the internet to the point where it became as necessary as electricity and water--okay, almost as necessary--we picked up cable with our internet. That's how we've lived for decades. Our kids have not known a time when we didn't have cable.

All that changed last month.

We bit the bullet and cut the cord.

Overall, I'm pleased. We were paying for so much for things we never watched. We spent hundreds, no...thousands of dollars over the years for entertainment we never watched, shows ignored. A few years ago, I drastically reduced my viewing time for sports. I thought this would help in the transition. It has, of course, but what I didn't realize is how I was watching sports.

I hardly watched the games on a TV set. I streamed them on my laptop. It was the perfect situation. I could sit in the main room with my wife and watch movies or TV shows, while the game streamed silent on my computer. If the game got interesting, I'd pay more attention. If not, no big deal. Now, without cable, or a streaming service, you can't watch much at all on a computer.

We have good antenna signal strength so there's games on Saturdays--especially college sports--I could see, but I'd be in another room. Last Saturday, I was in another room semi-watching the games. Didn't like that very much. I need to figure out a way to get the antenna signal to play on the laptop so I can semi-watch what I like. I've read you can do it somehow. Then again, maybe it's best if I just revert back to an earlier time, when cable was for the elites and the rest of us enjoyed a game on those rare occasions, making the experience that better.

No, I didn't watch any of the college football home teams play today...

Probably for the best.

 

A Sunrise...Is A Promise

 A sunrise, a promise of unlimited possibilities.

Not all sunrises are brilliantly colored, in fact, I'd say most are uneventful, lacking in personality...in a word, normal. However, when the atmospheric conditions are just so, the earth rotates and night becomes dawn and dawn becomes morning, colors appear as if by magic and kiss the sky with light.

Many times people feel sunrises play second fiddle to sunsets. It's understandable, if anything because many are asleep when the sun crests the horizon, or at work, or beginning their day. At sunset, well...the work day is done (for most of us...) and we can enjoy that which is given.

But, a sunset cannot possibly provide the benefits of a sunrise. A sunrise welcomes a new day, a day that has never existed in time. A sunrise bathes the world in hope.

Because I work at home, I have the opportunity to see the sunrises each workday morning, and when they're amazing, I step outside and snap a picture or two and hope for the best. Like sunrises, sometimes the photos are average, but other times, the beauty of the moment is captured forever and what no longer exists remains.

A sunrise is a promise, a promise from God that there is a future...a future of unlimited possibilities, for everything created, everything we know happens after a sunrise.

With A Bump And A Thunk...Secrets Revealed

 Sunday last, I was called upon (literally...) to lead a choir for our Stake Conference, a meeting of congregations in a given area. I've recently began leading a ward choir and they asked me to step up my game. I thought I'd be nervous, especially since that morning was the first time this particular choir sang together. I decided I was going to have fun with the assignment and not worry about screwing up.

Everything turned out swimmingly. 

The choir sang (they sounded amazing, in a good way...) and I left the meeting feeling wonderful.

It was something that happen as the choir members assembled to sing that caught everyone's attention.

As the singers gathered, we heard a thunk. I'm not sure if someone touched the wood panel at the front of the room or it fell on its own, but somehow gravity overtook the panel and it fell, exposing a large hole in the wall. We sang the song and after the meeting ended, a few investigated to see if the panel could easily be replaced. Turns out, it would take a little more than putting it back in place. We couldn't tell from our vantage point how it was supported. Most likely, it was glued in place from the other side.

It did, however, allow me to see something I've always wanted to see...some of the inner workings of a air pipe organ.

Not all chapels have pipe organs. Back in the day (our building's almost 100 years old...), a pipe organ was commonplace. I, of course, have no knowledge of pipe organ history, so I'm sort of winging it here. As technology advanced, you didn't need the pipes...electronics took its place. I can't imagine how much it would cost to buy and build a pipe organ in a new chapel. Just not cost-effective.

Last Sunday I only caught a peek and then shoved my phone in the hole and snapped a couple of pictures. A member of the congregation told me there's a door around the corner. Of course, there would be. They have to have access to the instrument for repairs and such. It would be fun to go inside and check it out up close.

I guess my quick look because a wood panel fell during a meeting will have to do.

Want To Feel Good...? Give Siegfried Und Joy A Chance

 Did a little Instagram surfing the other day and I came across a site. If you're familiar with Instagram, they inundate you with ads in the form of "follow recommendations." Rarely do I take the bait and check them out. I saw a site with videos of two men throwing up a sheet, holding it in place (while shaking it for effect...), then throwing the sheet aside to reveal a big surprise. It looked cheesy, and, in all honesty, it was cheesy.

I decided to click on the video and after a few moments, I was hooked.

I hit "follow" and I'm glad I did.

It's a hoot!

The site is: Siegfried & Joy and you can find their Instagram account by clicking: HERE. The men's main shtick is to hold up a sheet, shake it, then reveal what's behind the sheet to the amazement of others. Their twist on the classic reveal surprise is that they're as corny as possible. They barely try to hid themselves, and when assembling groups out of now where or vanishing existing groups into thin air, they don't even attempt to keep us from seeing "how it's done," as if that small sheet conceals the obvious from our eyes.

Just watching two over-performing men do their act is one thing (and it's a great thing...), but, part of the genius of their site is they include videos where others attempt to do their own versions of the act. The people performing the act love doing it, the spectators watching the act cheer and clap, and those of us watching the videos have a better day because of it.

I almost passed on the duo, almost moved on and scrolled down.

I'm glad I didn't. They've made me smile many times.

So, What The Heck Is That...?

My wife ordered these things to help her in the production of freezer meals. After the first use, she was so excited--they worked amazingly well. It wasn't until after she praised the product that I saw it for the first time...

What the heck is that? I thought.

I then asked for and was given a demonstration. 

What you do is take a ziplock bag, open it, open the Baggy Rack (an official name...), set the open bag in between the "V" and insert the sides of the bag into the clips on the side of the rack. Now you have a self-standing device in which you can put all the good stuff. Once you're done, you unclip the bag, zip it up, and put it away.

It's magic!

And, if you think about it, it really is. Imagine trying to put in half a chicken, a can of tomato sauce, various herbs and spices in a bag that's just laying on the counter. Of course, if can be done, but why not use something to make life so much easier?

If you do an internet search for "Baggy Rack" you'll find dozens of choices you can order. And if you're thinking of preparing freezer meals and think the Baggy Rack could help, my advice is to get it--order it now and you won't be sorry. 

What the heck is it?

A Baggy Rack, that's what. 

When Do You Put Up Christmas Lights...?

The neighbors put theirs up last weekend. Probably should have followed their example. But, no...we'll find another time to do the deed.

Putting up outdoor Christmas lights.

It's not a questions of if, but when.

For those of us who celebrate the season, it's a question asked every year, along with, when should we put up indoor decorations, should we get a live tree or finally buy an artificial tree, when is it "officially" the Christmas season?

Our last house had fantastic holiday decorating potential. Because I'm cheap and afraid of standing on ladders, we didn't take full advantage. We did decorate the front entrance and it turned out great, if I don't say so myself. We had a timber frame which worked well in hanging white lights. We didn't have to do a lot to make an impression, and when it snowed...it looked beautiful.

Our new house is, well...not as accommodating.

We have a front entrance that could work, but there's rain gutters--no timbers. We bought some plastic hooks that you can attach using a pole, but that didn't work so well. There's some things I don't miss about our old house, but I do miss the entrance. 

We'll eventually climb under the stairs, haul out the bins full of Christmas lights and decorations and get to work. If it turns out--even semi-decent--I'll post some pictures.

To answer the question, when to put up Christmas lights...

The answer is, whenever you want.

Give Thanks...That We Knew And Loved SamDean

 My son thought our four-year old rag doll cat was sleeping. When he checked a little while later and the cat had not moved, he realized something was wrong. He had passed. No warning, as far as we could tell...just there last night when we went to sleep, gone today.

We're blessed to have known him.

Not long ago, we were home to two dogs and two cats. Now, we're down to one...my son's dog. Losing a pet leaves a void, a pain in your soul that takes time to heal, if it ever can. We rescued SamDean as a weeks-old kitten. We had no idea what type of cat he was, but we took a chance. He surprised us all the way he kept growing and growing until he tipped the scales around twenty pounds. 

He had the loudest purr, and the most brilliant eyes on a cat I've ever seen.

Because our dog never grew to accept him like we did, we kept them separated, which wasn't ideal, but it allowed us to keep him under our roof.

After we discovered him this morning, I did some research. Our best guess is a heart condition took him from us. It can strike with little or no warning. 

There's no proof, of course, but I feel animals understand things. I'd like to think SamDean knew we loved him, knew we gave him a home and food and shelter, knew he lived in a safe space. I also feel that we'll be reunited in the future. The love between our pets and ourselves feels other-worldly, something beyond the temporal, bordering the eternal. Our family is blessed to have known and loved SamDean. We're thankful we could be part of his life.

R.I.P., SamDean Winchester. You'll be truly missed.

Some Heroes I've Never Met...

 I only know them by their last names...Rilmer (or Riemer...), Mischler, Frurin, Schinick, Johny (possibly a first name...), Kircher, Hal Junior, and my dad...

I met him.

The others, never, and considering the time that's passed between when these pictures were taken and now, I'm betting they're all gone. I missed my chance. 

This is a photo of my father's B-17 crew. I've tried researching their plane, Hell From Heaven, but it eludes me. I found it once, searching the internet many years ago, but every time I search now, I can't find it. Which means, I can't find out who these brave men were. My mother knew of them--one, I don't know which, was from Montana or Wyoming...some place close. She might have met him, I'm not sure. But, my mother's gone, too, so, once again, I've reached an impasse.

Today, we honor veterans. They deserve the day--they deserve more than a day, a month, a year. The life I've lived would be vastly different had the millions of families not sacrificed their greatest gifts--their sons, daughters, fathers, mothers--to defeating evil.

Because I've never met (save one...) of the men in these photos, I don't know their stories, their histories, their experiences. I'm sure there are living descendants who have heard the stories. I'd love to spend time with their children and find out what happened, answer many of the questions I've had since I was old enough to understand the war and those who fought in it.

I've heard that many of those who served and sacrificed didn't like to talk about what happened...a reasonable response. Had I the opportunity to ask them what happened those decades ago on foreign lands and they refused to answer, I would have nothing but respect for them and move on.

But, if they chose to share, I'd soak up every fact, every detail. If that happened, maybe I'd regret knowing what they did. I hope not, because it's knowledge, knowledge I could pass to my children so those sacrifices wouldn't be forgotten.

To me, they're heroes, and always will be.

Great...Now I Get To See Those Creepy Dolls All The Time

 I've been posting at least one picture a day since early 2011. If you do the math, that's a lot of pictures. Back then, I could only post 200 pictures on a Facebook photo album. When I hit 200, I started a new Pic Of The Day album. I don't know when, but sometime since 2011 and now, Facebook evolved so now you can post as many pictures as you want in an album (I don't know if there's even a limit...).

I kept the tradition of creating a new photo album for my daily pictures and last month, I opened my twenty-forth edition...

Like I said, that's a lot of pictures.

In order to post the pictures, I go to my account and pull up my photo home page. The first picture of the album becomes a thumbnail--it represents the entire 199 pictures contained therein. Because I look at that home page every day, I try my hardest to find something extra "photo-worthy." I want something pleasant to see each time I access the page. From the screenshot, you can see the first pictures from albums sixteen through twenty-four. 

Number twenty-four is a doozie.

Creepy dolls.

I attended a work party that day. We meet at a hospital facility. The dolls are used for training. Yeah...they're still creepy. I thought it was a great picture, and because it was the first picture of album twenty-four, I get to see those creepy dolls every day.

It could be worse. The party was fun and conjures good times. It could have been a picture of something unpleasant, something bad. Instead, I'll be seeing those dolls.

Until I hit 200 photos...then the creepy dolls will slide one place right. It's just a matter of time.

So...About That Extra Hour Of Sleep

 Why?

Or better asked, how?

How can I never catch a break on that "hour of sleep" thing?

It's a mystery...

One that grows with each passing year.

Back in the day, Daylight Savings changes never affected me. I would use that extra hour of sleep in the fall and deal with the stolen hour in the spring. No big deal. Now, I look forward to the fall when we get an extra hour of sleep. The problem is, I can't remember the last time I actually took advantage of that extra hour of sleep. I keep waiting up early. 

It's even hard for me to sleep in on my days off.

Such is life.

It's easy to complain about how it gets so dark so early...that seems to hit everyone hard, but for me, it's the sleep thing. This past change was true to form. I woke up and glanced at the clock...6:24am, and because I had not yet adjusted the clock, it was really 5:24am. Bummer. Another year, another lost opportunity. And it wouldn't be such a big deal, but it's such a comfort the day before when you know there'll be a gift--the gift of time--the next morning.

I wonder if I'll ever be able to take advantage of that hour.

Here's to trying next year!

Cache Valley...A Little Crowded Piece Of Heaven

 Last week we drove over to Cache Valley. We ended up in the middle of the valley, surrounded by mountains. It's not as populated in the area between Logan and Sardine Canyon...

But, that's changing.

I lived in Cache Valley for four months back in the fall of 1984. I attended one quarter of school at Utah State University. I was continuing a family tradition, my dad attended USU, as did my bother, my uncle, and several friends. I've always considered myself to be an Aggie fan, even though I wasn't a "True Aggie."

When I lived there, in a small apartment just west of Old Main, I didn't concern myself with over population or traffic, probably because it wasn't an issue back then. Thinking back, the only time I even thought about traffic was driving on Main Street and cursing whomever timed the traffic lights. The frustrating part wasn't too many cars, but trying to time the lights so you could drive straight through without stopping.

Fast forward almost four decades. The cities in the valley have exploded. In Nibly, where my son is helping build a house, I stood in a field, a field that's been used for farming for generations. Sure, it's only going to be a dozen or so houses in this development, but you multiply that by dozens of similar projects and before you know it, houses and businesses will line the valley floor until there's no where else to build. 

I've seen it before...in Davis County where they're literally running out of buildable land. It's happening in Cache Valley, and when that fills up they'll go west...

Where we live.

Can't be stopped.

Cache Valley is a true natural beauty. It's why people love living there and want their children to live there, too. I'm not saying more people destroys the beauty because people are beautiful themselves and they bring that beauty with them. I'm  am saying that Cache Valley is a place where more and more will get to experience that beauty first-hand.

And if they're okay with traffic, then there's no problem.

Times Have Definitely Changed...

 Today I filled out my ballot, sealed the envelope, and set it on the kitchen table. It's election day and things have definitely changed. In fact, in our little town, there's no open polls or polling station, so for us the only way to actually vote is...

Through the mail.

I'm not a political junkie--I mean, the subject interests me, but it also disgusts me. I want to participate in the process and so I vote. It's an "off year" so the choices for our little town are few. We voted anyway. And I think we're pulling for the underdogs so they probably won't make it. We're relatively new to the area so I don't know the stories behind the names, the histories the locals know.

Even though I complained about long lines at the voting stations in the past, I actually enjoyed seeing neighbors, talking to them, catching up. There was also an excitement in the room, a feeling like the actions had weight, that they mattered. 

I wonder if I'll ever feel that again.

Now, we drop off our ballots in a box whenever we went. We can vote days, weeks in advance all in the name of convenience. We've given up a lot for convenience.

I've long ago given up on some aspects of the political machine. It seems people don't or won't change, which frustrates me, because not enough people think the way I do. Then again, who's to say I'm always right?

Exactly.

We voted this year. I hope to be able to vote next time, too...

No matter how many changes occur between now and then.

What A Difference A Day Makes...

 We dropped off our youngest at his work last week. We waited a moment until the crew showed up, then we left to run errands. 

Several hours later, the building rose from a flat foundation...

It had walls.

Okay, not solid walls--framed walls, but still...a 3-D structure.

Watching my son and his crew create the house from literally the ground up takes us back, back a few decades when my wife and I put in a ton of sweat equity on our first house. I took off work to help frame. Not sure how much I actually helped (it was just our builder and me...), but it was exciting and fascinating. Not growing up in a builder's world, I wasn't used to seeing a building take shape.

Once enclosed, we worked on the flooring, the electrical, the painting. These are things my son is learning and will be learning as the house rises from the weeds.

For years and years my uncle--my father's youngest sibling--taught homebuilding at Clearfield High School in Utah. It's almost unconceivable to think a student could learn a life-long skill, a trade at such a young age. I wish they still taught homebuilding in high school.

They're teaching it in other places, though.

We saw the walls and it took me back. I thought of my father who built my childhood home. I thought of our own house. I thought it's an amazing trade to pursue, a fulfilling craft creating homes for families where memories will start and flourish, where those inside will discuss/possibly fight over wall decor, house plants, even pets. And my son is part of that industry.

What an wonderful adventure.

Give Thanks...For Beautiful Skies.

I'm constantly amazed at beautiful skies. 

And, since the move three years ago, it seems we're offered a daily feast.

I know it's all about perspective.

Before the move, I bemoaned the fact we would be leaving our cottage on the hill. I loved living there because of the sunsets. There was a time when we had views of Antelope Island and Farmington Bay surrounding it (back when water completely surrounded the island...). I was in awe of the incredible beauty as the sun set behind the western mountains.

I was convinced no place--or very few--offered such vistas.

I was proved wrong.

I admit, our sunsets here cannot match those of our Farmington home...just not possible. However, because we live in the middle of a valley, in between mountain ranges, we see the entire sky, from the east to the west, and to the south. I've given up sunsets for beautiful skies the rest of the day. I now marvel at the clouds, the clear blues and brilliant whites, of a myriad of birds canvasing the air above. Just heavenly. 

Each time I look upward, I wonder if I appreciated the skies where we used to live. Were they as colorful, as beautiful, as spectacular? Did I just ignore what was before my eyes? There's no going back, of course, but if I could, I'd check the skies to see how they looked.

I'm thankful for the beauty of the skies. I'm thankful to be able to appreciate it. I'm thankful for the almost daily show.

Happy Birthday, Dad...Ninety-Nine Years

 In one year from now, God willing, I'll be able to write about an important milestone in our family. It'll be the one-hundred year anniversary of my father's birth. Today, we're celebrating the next best thing.

Ninety-nine years.

My father has always been sort of an enigma for me. He passed away when I was eight-years old. I was old enough to understand what was happening, but too young to grasp what that event would mean for the rest of my life. I know my father by his deeds, by the things he accomplished in his short life. Simply put, he did more in the forty-nine years, than I have done (or will possibly ever do...) in my life. He is my hero, a man I've admired more and more with each passing year.

Without crunching the numbers, I believe I've blogged about my father more than any other person, more than my spouse, my kids, my friends. Yet, I know him less than everyone else. 

Tonight, as I think of the man and his life, I wonder what life was like on November 4th, 1924 on the plains of Montana, in a little hamlet of Harlem. During my autumn gig, I get the opportunity to chat with many people. There are a surprisingly large number of patrons from Montana. Whenever I find one, I always ask if they've heard of Harlem, Montana. I've yet to speak with one who has been there. Almost all of them have no idea where it is, or even that it exists. 

Did the town have electricity in 1924? Maybe, but considering the fact that my mother remembers when they installed electricity in their farmhouse in Clawson, Idaho--and she was younger than my father by seven years--my guess is they didn't...probably had no indoor plumbing, either. It's most likely a tough existence living in Harlem, Montana today, let alone a century ago.

I wish I had more time with him. I wish I could have talked about what it was like to be part of a B-17 fighter group over Germany, and was he scared being a tail gunner knowing it was the most vulnerable place to be. I would love to have talked to him about being a deputy sheriff in Idaho, about surviving the Great Depression, about getting a four-year engineering degree in only tree years, and having the knowledge (and courage...) to build his own house.

Ninety-nine years, gone for more years than he was alive.

Happy birthday, Dad.