It's Amazing How Much Of Other People's Stuff Was In Our House...

 I'm the first to admit that I am a hoarder...not an extreme hoarder, but the matter of degree is open to interpretation. I guess it makes sense that my daughter has a lot of things currently in our house. That won't be the case soon, for all that boxed-up stuff will go from our house, to her house.

It's moving day for her.

Crazy, just how much stuff we accumulate. 

Growing up, my mom and dad had a lot of stuff. My mom told me that one of my dad's mottos was: "If one is good, two is better." As soon as I was old enough to understand my father's history, I understood completely why he felt this way. Both my parents grew up in the Great Depression. Almost no one in America today can understand what this means. We are so used to just getting everything we need. In fact, we're upset when we have to wait even a few days for things we want.

The more I learned about the Great Depression, the more I understood my parents and why they did what they did. I know part of that feeling of "needing" things just in case, I obtained from my parents. 

I should say that much of what belongs to my daughter is from their wedding and they had no place to put their things until now. They've lived in a small space until they were able to get an apartment or a house. They've been so patient and selfless...it's quite remarkable. Now, they're finally able to have their stuff in their own home.

Another thing I should say is heaven help us if we had to move. All my daughter's and her husband's stuff can fit in one large(ish...) truck. All our stuff would take many many more.

I'm excited for them. It's a lot of work to move--it's because home is one of the most important places on earth.

Darn Gravity...

 In our defense, we didn't know there were that many nectarines on our little tree. We planted it only a few years ago and we still think of it as a "little" tree, but it's little no longer. So much so, the sheer weight of dozens of nectarines caused a major branch to fail.

Bummer.

If you own a nectarine tree, you know sometimes it's difficult to see the fruit. Plus, this is the first year it's really produced fruit. We saw a few nectarines last year, but nothing like what happened this summer. We should have been more prepared. 

Since I'm not an arborist, I never know how much fruit to remove to thin the crop. My mind says not to remove any...to keep it all growing, but I know that's not what's best for the tree.

The rest of the tree appears to be doing well. There's plenty of fruit still left and hopefully it will continue to ripen so we can enjoy the harvest. Next spring, we'll do some pruning and we'll pay more attention to our little tree so this doesn't happen again.

Darn gravity...

Going The Way Of All The Earth...

 We bought it at a yard sale...not much of a surprise there. And, it served our family well. It wasn't new...it had survived several summers and winters. I assume it was used for the purpose for which it was built, as a spool for some type of cable. But, it ended up being something else, as many of them do.

Growing up my dad bought several spools. My memory says they were bigger than the one in our backyard, but that's probably not true. I mean, we were little kids back then. We kept them under the deck. I think my mom kept them around because we used to set them on their sides and walk on them around the yard. It was fun and required just enough dexterity that I could do it. 

The spool we bought at the yard sale has been used for another purpose. It's a great side table for grilling, as well as a stand for a backyard shade umbrella. That's what we've used it most. What's nice is I can just kick it on its side and roll it to wherever we need it in the yard, then tip it back up and set up the umbrella. 

We really didn't have space for it in the garage, so it's been outside, at the mercy of the elements the past several years. Because of that, the underside basically disintegrated. We pulled off the sections of wood that were falling apart. They made great kindling.

Technically, the spool can still be used as an umbrella stand, but I can no longer roll it anywhere. Since I'm not going to pick it up and haul it anywhere, it's pretty much done. We'll split up the rest and burn it. Like everything, it's going the way of all the earth...

Just a little at a time.

I Thought The Results Would Be Different...

 I came across this from the internet a few weeks ago. People put out these things like this all the time so I have no idea if it's valid or not. In some ways, it would be cool if it's valid, but in other ways, it might not be. I mean, RUSH being a most popular classic rock band in only one state?

Exactly.

If you're like me, you love RUSH. I think I saw this band perform live more than any other group. Of course, back in the 70s and 80s, attending a rock concert wasn't the ordeal it is today. For starters, tickets were only $10 back then, so when the bands put out a new album every other year, you did what you could to get tickets. 

I look at this picture and I can understand why some states chose their favorite bands, Lynard Skynard in the South, ZZ Top in Texas...these things make sense. What doesn't make sense to me is that RUSH was only one state's favorite...mine. Only Utah chose RUSH. I would have thought the band would appear on more states. 

If it is real, it makes me a little sad. Such a classic group...America would do right in honoring our neighbors to the north with more states.

The thing is, just because only one state chose RUSH, doesn't really matter. We pride ourselves in our individuality, in our right to think differently...at least, we did at one time. Our choice makes us unique, sort of special. 

That's pretty cool, too.

Saying Goodbye...It's The Hardest Thing

 Years ago I happened upon a little British show called Top Gear. There were several things that drew me to the show. Of course, the cars, but they also had excellent cinematography. If you doubt me, check out the years between 2004 and afterwards (I'm sure the episodes preceding 2004 are excellent as well, but I found the show a few years later...). Even my wife loved watching--and she's not necessarily a car person.

All those things help add to the show, but the genius behind the show's success is because of three people...Jeremy, Richard, and James. I know in the history of comedic teams, duets flourish, but on Top Gear, it's the trio.

The boys were fired in 2015 and created another show on Prime TV. They called it Grand Tour. They tried to follow the previous show's format, but eventually it devolved into a season of epic adventures across the world, and next month...apparently...it all ends.

Bummer.

To say they'll be missed is an understatement, at least for me. The chemistry between the hosts is almost impossible to duplicate. We've known them for decades, at least their TV personas. I know there's no way we actually know them, but they connect on on such a personal level, they seem like they'd be a blast to chill out with.

Those of you who enjoy and watch the show know exactly what I'm talking about. BBC struck gold when they assembled this amazing team.

Seriously, it's time. Nothing last forever. After more than two decades they are closing the book on this chapter of their lives. Yes, I'm sad, but also happy they are able to pursue other ventures. It's rare when people create such art disguised as entertainment. God speed, boys. You done well.

This...Makes Me Happy

 The inside temperature in the house around 7:30am this morning, was 71º. The other readings on the thermometer show the high outside temperature from the past twenty-four hours, the coldest outside temperature from the same period, and the current outside temperature.

The high: 85º...the low: 55º...the current: 50.

Oh, the joy.

I've always love autumn. As a kid when temperatures lowered it meant Halloween was near, and after that, Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, New Years, ski season, sledding, hot chocolate. I needed a jacket when riding my bike. I didn't almost die of heat while running, and school started. I wasn't the biggest fan of school, but I loved being with friends.

Now that I'm older, much older (it's my fortieth high school reunion this year...), I still love the season. It's for different reasons, of course, but I still love it. I no longer ski or exercise outside very much, but I love being outside and not sweating to death. I also love decreased yard work and the elimination of bugs.

That's what my aging body appreciates as the colder temperatures draw closer.

I know people who hate the cold, especially as they get older. I don't know if I'll be one of those. Next year I turn sixty and the whole "hating the cold" thing hasn't hit yet. 

Who knows? Give me another decade (God willing...) and I'll see how I feel then. My guess is (and my hope...) I'll still love the fall.

Give Thanks...For Our Van And The Friend Who Made It Happen

Last week I blogged about having to give up on a trusted car, something that's been in our family for more than a decade. At the same time, we decided to let go of another vehicle. This one on which we relied for not only transportation of people, but of furniture, groceries, top soil, and numerous yard and garage sale bargains.

And now, it belongs to another.

We did, however, keep it in the family.

Years ago, around 2009 another trusted van we owned started to fall apart. Almost as a joke, I posted on Facebook that it would cost more to fix than it was worth. A good friend called me after seeing my post. "Hey, you looking for a van?" he asked. "Yeah, I guess we are."

I should say that these words are most likely not the exact conversation we had. It's been more than a decade, after all...

"We just got a new van and we were wondering if you'd like to buy ours." He told me the make and model and I think I laughed. I told him there was no way we could afford it. "How much do can you spend?" I told him we had some savings.

"Okay--we'll take that for it."

Shock. He was cutting the value of the van by 2/3. I wanted to make sure he was okay letting it go for that price. He said he was. We drove over and picked it up. It served our family so well. We'd by another Toyota Sienna in a heartbeat, but we no longer have need to take six-eight people on family vacations to California and Washington State. We no longer need--at the time--the mind-blowing technology of a DVD player and screen installed for the kids to watch movies. We no longer need three rows of seating or enough room to haul a full-size upright freezer from Brigham City to our house. 

Even though we no longer need these things, we miss them. We got a new car, newer, fewer miles, more mind-blowing technology. But we'll always be thankful for the van and my friend who let it go for a loss.

We passed it down to our son. They have a toddler and need something they can count on. We were happy to do it and we took a loss on it as well, not as big as my friend, but we tried to help them out. If you need to move several people, I recommend the Sienna. It drives wonderfully, hauls like a truck, and it's just a wonderful van. I'm thankful it served us so well for all those years. 

A Place To Hang My Hat...Or Hats

 I'm a collector...sort of. I think of collectors as people who amass certain things, like stamps, or coins, or cars, or tennis shoes. I don't think having lots of baseball hats makes me a collector, but when you consider the definition of "collector," I definitely qualify.

I have a lot of baseball hats.

For me, if I'm not going to church, I'm wearing a hat. I do this, not necessarily for fashion reasons, but more for practical reasons. Having no hair (thanks, genetics...) on my head, I wear a hat in the summer to prevent sunburns, and I wear a hat in the winter to keep my head warm, and to prevent sunburns. To me, hats are as important as wearing shirts, or other necessary articles of clothing.

Now, after wearing hats almost everyday of my life for almost four years, I know you can't have just one hat. You need several. I have several. When you have several hats, you need a place to keep several hats until you're wearing one hat. For the past couple of years, I hung my hats on my wife's antique bookshelf that we used to house DVDs. We re-arranged the front room and the bookshelf had to go downstairs. 

What to do with the hats?

In our laundry room I saw several wreath hangers we used during the holidays purchased at Dollar Tree. I had an idea and what you see in the photo is that idea. My new place to hang my hats.

So for...so good. I have seven hats I can choose from, two work hats, three red hats (two U of U hats and a Lagoon hat...), a Bear River Bears baseball hat and a US Army hat. Pretty much a hat for all occasions, or...

A hat for all seasons.

Yeah...I like that.

Oh...I Love Living In A Small Town

 I saw this today on a social media page for our small community. I laughed, even though the post wasn't supposed to necessarily be funny. I mean, how can you not find humor in it?

And this isn't the first post of this kind I've seen. It's just part of living in rural America where there's more animals in the country than people. 

In addition to the post, I also enjoyed the comments, which I won't include here. The comments were wonderful. Neighbors coming together...several tagging people who might either own the cow or know who did. Imagine that...putting up this post and having not just one, but many respond by acknowledging the cow may belong to more than one person.

I have no doubt the owner will be found. We are a small town, after all. 

Over the years, I've seen posts of escaped horses, sheep, and now a cow. I've seen in fields a llama or alpaca, but haven't seen posts of any lost (or found...) ones of those. Today it was a cow.

Just another day living in small town rural America. 

My Little Fan And I...

 I saw the post on our community Facebook page. A neighbor had some basement flooding and they were asking for fans. Not much detail was given...important things like how bad was the damage, or if they had what they needed already were not included. My first instinct was to help, but then, I thought...

We have no fans.

Well, no fans that could do any real help, anyway.

I saw a second post soon after and decided I needed to go over. It was around 10pm, but when bad things happen, what time it is becomes irrelevant. On the way out, I grabbed the only fan we had...a small 10" floor fan. I drove the next street over and noticed the dozen or so cars parked every which way in the street and on the driveway.

Good. It was great to see others had answered the call, but it also helped confirm a thought I had earlier. They'd need big fans, big industrial-strength, water-eliminating fans. I picked up my tiny fan from the car and headed inside. 

Everyone was in the basement. I could hear the noise as I started down the stairs. From the amount of cars I expected a lot of people and as I rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I was right. I didn't even bring in my little fan into the room...just left it sitting on the bottom stairs.

I wish I could have helped out more, but it did my heart good to see neighbors--many of whom I knew and many I did not--working together to do what they could. Large fans were in place and several wet/dry vacuums were humming along. 

I ended up leaving after a short time. I helped move some stuff, but then decided it would be best to make room for the others. I picked up my small fan on the way out.

I knew what they needed before I went over. I'm glad that others had the goods, even though I didn't.

Scenes From A Storm...

 We finally got a summer lightning storm. 

And it seems everyone saw it.

Everyone around here, anyway.

I've seen pictures and videos of the storms everywhere since it hit two nights ago. 

I like to say we live at the top of the great Salt Lake Basin. North of us...mountains. Mountains to the east and west as well, but south, you can see for over a hundred miles. It opens like a huge carpet flowing to the Great Salt Lake. And when these summer lightning storms roll in, it can be breathtaking. This last storm did not disappoint. 

The pictures are not stellar. Since I'm not good at snapping lightning when it strikes, I set my phone to record and just stand there, hoping to catch some of the brilliance that we get to experience. I then scroll through the video stopping on the bright flashes and take a screen shot. I got a few good pics. 

Hopefully, we'll get a few more storms. And if that happens, hopefully, I'll get a few more shots.

Missing Someone She's Never Met...

 The words were beautiful and poignant and perfect for today. My sister would turn 56-years old today, but she's no longer with us. I woke to a post from her half-sister, Kathy. What makes the words more beautiful is her half-sister never met Tara, not in this life, anyway.

From her post, you'd think they grew up together.

We met Kathy after my sister passed away. In a bittersweet coincidence, my sister put in the mail an Ancestry.Com DNA kit the morning she suffered a stroke, a stroke from which she never recovered. Had she not done that, our family might never have met Kathy. The DNA results came back and we found Kathy, my sister's half-sister lived only an hour away. Since me and all of my siblings are adopted, and my sister's family is from California, it's incredible she had a half-sibling who lived so close. Kathy's been part of our family gatherings ever since. She's become a part of my niece and nephew's family, acting as a de facto mother to my sister's children and grandchildren.

But, if you think about it, it makes sense that many of those wonderful qualities found in my sister can also be found in her big sister. Genetics can be funny that way. 

Today, we all miss our little sister, those who knew her all her life, and those who never met her. I so wish my sister could have met Kathy...they would have been the best of friends. From the words expressed today, I can tell they already are.

The Jokes Write Themselves...

 As I get older, the amount of junk mail I received has grown exponentially. It's not because I have more money to buy all the things they're pushing, but I suppose I'm part of an algorithm that says I should have all this cash lying around.

Plus, the older I get, the more I'm going to need...stuff.

Stuff to see better, to walk better, to do other things better...and to hear better. I got a flyer about a hearing device and they were looking for candidates to be an audible guinea pigs. Am I going to do it? Nope. My hearing is probably bad, and I could maybe get some help with it, but the damage from all those rock concerts from the 70s and 80s haven't seem to have left lasting effects.

I posted the above picture with a joke about my wife telling me I ought to volunteer. I cracked that she may have said it, but I didn't (or couldn't...) hear her anyway. Hence, the joke.

It's easy to find humor in getting older. They say that behind every joke, there's pain. 

I guess that's why it's so easy to find jokes in aging...there's a lot of pain involved.

I expect the amount of junk mail to increase the older I get. It's only natural. We all get older, and hopefully more financially viable so we're prime targets for this type of marketing. I guess I should feel blessed--I can still read the junk mail.

Give Thanks...Seeing The Good Through The Bad

It's not the best example of perspective...a bit of a stretch, actually. I didn't think about it until I got home and looked at the photos of the sunset I took returning home last week. The sunset looked to be another classic. Of course, you have to see how a sunset turns out. 

Turns out, it was a good one.

As sunsets sometimes do, this one became more stunning as time passed. When possible and whenever it was safe, I snapped a picture from time to time as the colors increased, the light transformed from captivating to breath-taking. Since I wanted to get home, I didn't check the shots I took until I pulled them up from my computer and checked them out.

My favorite shot was not perfect, as far as the qualities that make a good photograph good. The beauty of the sunset can be seen through a dirty car window, the angle of the sun greatly highlighted the dirt. Still...

It was beautiful.

Life is like that. You can use technology to "remove" the dirt, eliminate the bad leaving only the a false presentation of reality. I suppose I could have used some program to show only the incredible sunset. Life, however, has dirt...has problems. The trick is to see through the dirt to the beauty beyond.

I'm thankful I could see the sunset, watch as it developed. I'm thankful that there's dirt because without the dirt, it's harder to appreciate the beauty.

This Map...Not So Much

 Back on August 10th of this year, I found an Itchy Feet comic. The comic showed a humorous take on an average European city. I loved it, so much, I blogged about it, and several people agreed with my takes. You can read the post by clicking: HERE.

In the blog post I thought it would be fun if someone did the same thing for an average American city. Turns out Itchy Feet did. I thought the European city (or the ones I'm familiar with...) comic was spot on. This one...

Not so much.

It's not that the comic is wrong. It just doesn't reflect cities in my part of the country.

I should say, Utah is peculiar in many ways...the way the cities are set up on one of them. Those who settled the areas followed a predictable and well-organized (if not boring...) plan...grids. The middle of our towns will have main and/or state streets, but then you've got 100 East, 500 South, 200 North, and so on. The houses then are numbered like normal. A typical house number in Utah is 56 South, 600 West. You don't need GPS to find that.

I imagine the above comic is spot on for many U.S. cities...

Just not ours.

I've Missed The Football...

 Yes, football has returned. It's high school ball, but at this point, I don't care. I'm glad it's back. It's a sign of things to come...a sign of bigger and better things, or more specifically, bigger and better players, games, stakes.

I'm not the world's greatest fan. I almost never attend the games in person. And, we have limited access to the various games. It's amazing for less than the price of one season ticket to a regular college football home schedule, a person can see almost every college game played across the country all year. We do live in interesting times.

It's halftime...my beloved Darts are getting their hats handed to them.

I don't alway pull for the best teams.

We live a couple of miles from the local high school here. They have a loyal following. Many of my neighbors went to school there, as did their kids and their kids's kids. The local team doesn't win every game, either. But, a sports program isn't just about winning. It's about learning, growing, adjusting, facing harsh things...

Being human.

Sports can be poetry. It's an art form, and when spirt and body combine, you'll see miracles. 

I've missed it...glad it's back.

Back In The Saddle Again...

 Tonight, I found myself sitting in a room once used for tennis, listening to orientation trainings, the same trainings I've heard the past half dozen years. I know it's repetitive, and I know it's repetitive for those giving the training. I also know how important it is for insurance and other reasons.

I'm signed up for another go.

It's a great gig.

I sat among forty or so other applicants, almost all of them doing something other than what I'll be doing. My job is very unique...there's only one person on the whole park who does it, and that person is me. 

We sat together. The presenter asked how long we had worked at the park. She started with two years. Almost everyone raised their hand. She uped it to five years, most put their hands down. She said eight years...it was me and another. Ten years--I alone kept my hand raised.

The fun begins next month, each weekend until after Halloween. I work with wonderful people...a truly amazing show. I can't say enough about it. Actually, I can't say anything about it. You must experience it.

Speaking of which, if you're going to Frightmares at Lagoon this fall and you are fortunate enough to see the show Séance, you'll see me. If I don't know you, please introduce yourself. If you do know me, we'll catch up.

Another year...back in the saddle again.

Saying Goodbye...To The Vibe

 In a matter of weeks, our family went on a buying spree...not for clothes or food or pet supplies. No, everyone living in our house (except me...) bought a vehicle. That's the fun news. The sad news was saying goodbye to a couple of vehicles that served our family well for almost fifteen years.

That's longer than most pets live.

The car we traded in was my beloved 2004 Pontiac Vibe (really, a Toyota Matrix...). I loved that car. It was my second Vibe, nice, compact, reliable car. Three of our four kids learned to drive in that car. It brought me to my brother's house through a blizzard, and it survived hitting (and killing...) a deer. It always started, except when the battery was dead, and it never left us stranded.

Yes. it had problems. The driver's side window shattered more than once. I even replaced the door, but it didn't fix the problem. The catalytic converter was dying, and we destroyed the AC in its last year with us. We didn't exactly trust it at freeway speeds, but around town when you don't need to be able to roll down the window and you don't need all-wheel drive and you don't need air-conditioning, it was still a great ride.

But, it was time. What makes me most sad is the car has most likely seen its last owner. Sure, it could give some high school kid a ride to and from school and possibly a date. But, we traded it in and I don't know what happens to those cars.

We relied on that car so many times in the past decade and a half. The car was my friend, a tangible thing that offered comfort and safety. I know people have emotional connections to their vehicles. It's natural, and for me, this is a perfect example of how that happens. Our time with our Vibe has come to an end. It completed its mission, and did a damn fine job doing it.

Oh, we also got rid of our van, but that's another blog post.

Even Spammers Think I'm An Old Fogey...

 I play solitaire on my phone from time to time. It's relaxing, and as long as I tell myself I'm not addicted to the game, I'm not. Last night while playing a game, an ad popped up...the ad you see here.

Rude, right?

I mean, I'm no boomer...born a year or two too late, but still...not a boomer.

It's interesting. Can the spammer determine the age of those playing a game by the way they play? I would hardly think so, unless it's commonly known that only boomers (or soon to be boomers...) play solitaire on their phones. That's a real possibility, actually.

Then there's a more sinister thought. Maybe the spanners have access to everything else done on a phone and they can guess my approximate age by other means. Personally, there's nothing that surprises me when it comes to personal privacy, or the lack thereof, these days. Anything's possible.

I took a snapshot of the ad, but that's all I'm going to do. Yes, I play solitaire from time to time, but I'm not taking their bait no matter how much better it would be to have large cards, enhanced graphics or more.

Living In A One Train Track Town...

 I'm no history expert, but I do recall there was a time when a railroad track running through your town meant you had access to the world...

Literally.

Times have changed.

Where we used to live, a railroad once ran through town. In fact, the town owes much of its history to that railroad. It was built by the Bamburger family and because of that railroad, the Lagoon Amusement Park came into existence. The railroad is long gone, but the park remains. 

We moved to a town with far fewer people, but they do have one set of railroad tracks that is just east of downtown running north/south. I think I've seen a train on those tracks less than twenty times in the four years we've lived here.

So, not the busiest railway out there.

The other day I was caught behind the crossing as I waited for the train to pass. It moved along at a slow space--how slow, I'm not exactly sure. Thankfully, there were only five or six cars. I guess that's what it's like living in a one train track town.

Every once in a while, a train will pass.

Give Thanks...For Internet Access

 Funny, how things that did not exist in our lives at one time become necessities...necessities to the point that we as a society can almost not function when that necessity is removed.

Hence, the absence of internet access.

It's quite a thing.

All in all, we've been lucky as far as having access to the internet, arguably one of the most amazing (for good and otherwise...) inventions to affect humanity since the Industrial Revolution. I've written a blog post every day--every single day--since January, 2011. This means, that I've had access to the internet every single day since then. 

Some people would consider this a curse, to be so "connected" to a thing. And, they'd be right. It's hard to  imagine living in a world where the internet doesn't exist. Last week, I got a taste. Wednesday afternoon, just before 5pm, we noticed the internet went out. We thought it was due to road construction close by. 

Nope...turns out it was something else.

With the internet out, it was a nuisance, an inconvenience. But, we still had our phones. 

Nope. Phones weren't completely out, but were so slow, they might have been out.

Strange. A few weeks ago, the power went out and we had phone internet service. This time, we had power, but no phones. I wasn't worried. In our modern society, professionals are very good at restoring services. We waited for an hour...no service. It was hard to even find out why since we couldn't use our phones. We eventually found out that a truck took out power to a section of town about five miles away. The power to a local cellphone tower also went out. Now, we understood. Still...it will back on soon.

Around 8pm, I got a little worried. I had a photo and blog post to add to the trillions of other posts on the internet. The phone access had gotten better, maybe because other people trying to get online had gone to bed. It took a while, but I posted a simple screenshot of my non-access and wrote a short blog post recognizing our youngest on his birthday.

It's unbelievable how addicted I am to the internet, how much I depend on it. I was sure it would be up and running by morning, but it wasn't. All night long, the flashing red light of the modem told me it was still out. The next morning, I got ready to go into work, instead of working at home, but around 9am the next day...connected.

I'm thankful I can get news, post a short story now and then, and also a picture. I'm thankful I can keep in touch with family and friends. Time will tell just how much the internet has changed humanity (for good or otherwise...), but I do know, for one day last week, it affected us more than I liked.

Boy...This Is Spot On

 I ran across this meme the other day. My first thought was some American was dissing Europe. And, it is, but it's also something else...

Spot on correct.

I'm by no means an expert on European cities. I've visited a few and lived in a few, mostly in Denmark. From what I've seen, Denmark is similar to many northern European cities, which are similar to central and southern European cities.

This map points out some basics of any city, European or American or Canadian or Australian. There's a business district, an art district, and, unfortunately, a drug dealer park. It's the way humans organize themselves. Heck, it would be a fun project making a similar map of Utah towns...the only differences are which side are the mountains on and is there a church on every corner or every other corner?

I'm not familiar with ItchyFeetComic, but they did a good job on this map. I especially liked the Post Cardy Old Town and the Pigeon Owned Central Station.

Even if you haven't spent a lot of time visiting European cities, I believe you'll find this funny, as did I. 

Just Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider...

 Last year, we had one of these cool spiders hanging out (literally...) in our youngest's bedroom window well. I'd check on the spider every night as I took out the dog to make sure it was still there. Then, one day, it was gone...don't know what happened, just...gone.

Looks like we've got another guest.

This spider isn't next to the house, but in our planter boxes. It's hanging around like the last one, suspended in air by its web, waiting for food. 

Even though I would not want this little thing to be crawling on me, I love seeing it there. The importance of spiders cannot be overstated. Last year in the spring we paid for a service to kill bugs close to the house. I'm no scientist, but I think it did us a disservice. It seemed we had more mosquitoes last summer...no spiders to eat them. I think the mosquito season hasn't hit its peak yet, but this summer has been much better...without the bug-killing service.

Like I said, I'm no scientist and I have no solid data to back up my theories. 

Either way, I'm glad it's hanging around.

So, We Went To A City Counsel Meeting...

 It's been a while since I've attended a city counsel meeting. I think the last time was back in 1999 or 2000. My mom was developing some land next to her house and the city made us jump through so many hoops. It may have been easier for my 70+ year old mother to literally jump through hoops than the things they required of us to put in a cul-de-sac. 

Ridiculous.

Of course, there are things I don't understand...all the city policies and regulations. Still...it shouldn't be that tough. The cul-de-sac was built, so was our house. Then many years later, we moved. What brought us to our local city counsel meeting this time?

The building of another road.

The road is being built (or re-built...) where we live. The issue was us locals, as in "Road Closed - Local Traffic Only" locals. Some of us were getting ticketed. I can understand getting a ticket for being in a place we're not supposed to be, but we've been told different things. Since they're working on both directions of the road, we're sometimes told to drive east, and sometimes west. Hardly seems fair to be ticketing us for leaving the neighborhood.

We had neighbors who spoke at the meeting. We did not, but we listened. I'm glad there's still an opportunity to voice our opinions. Will anything come of it? My "half-full" self thinks there will be. Then again, the project's supposed to be completed in a little over a month. Hopefully, we can be ticket-free until then.

Happy Birthday, Son…No More Teens

 

Our youngest left his teenage years behind and entered his twenties today. So strange. Also, so proud of the man he’s becoming. 

Plus, his grandma (his only living grandparent…) hit a home run with his birthday presents, as seen in this photo.

With this birthday, the family takes another step forward. I guess that’s what families do. We’re lucky to be his parents. We’re lucky to have him as part of the clan. Happy birthday, son. Here’s to many many more.

Don't Know Jerome Myles...But I Believe He's Got A Bright Future

 During the "Horse Latitudes" of college football (or what I call summer...), the only real news available are snippets...tidbits of information about teams, conferences, and especially players. Most of it are social media posts from Monday-morning quarterbacks who proclaim the team(s) they follow will not only excel in the upcoming year, but will in it all.

Since that's all there is, I take notice.

I heard about a local high school football player Jerome Myles when he de-committed from Ole Miss, igniting the hope of many around the country that he might end up at their school. He recently posted a list of his Top 10.

Simply amazing.

The young man has the opportunity to attend the best college football teams in the nation. If he signs with any of them, does good, and stays healthy, he's golden. When I look at his post, it's almost unbelievable, considering how difficult it is to be recruited from these schools. 

It's also an honor for the U of U that they're considered a choice. It is a local school, of course, but in many pre-season polls, Utah is considered by many to be a Top 10 school. 

Like I said, I don't know him. I hope he makes the best choice for him and his family. My selfish side hopes he chooses that local option, but if not, I hope he says healthy, doesn't get too full of himself, and uses his God-given talent to bless his family, his fans, and himself.

Looks like he's got a bright future, indeed.

As Seen In A Local Greasy Spoon...

 On my day off my wife and I decided to visit a local restaurant for breakfast. It's the very definition of a "Greasy Spoon" and the food lived up to the reputation. The place was basically empty (slow morning, I guess...) so I took a little stroll looking for interesting things to see.

That's where I found this...

A team photo of Gordon Hayward.

That simple photograph tells a lot about the restaurant.

For those of you who don't know who Gordon Hayward is, he's a professional NBA basketball player who recently announced his retirement after14 years in the league. He played for our local NBA team from 2010 to 2013 when he left in a not-so-amicable manner. Many die-hard Utah Jazz fans would not be thrilled to see this particular photo hanging in a local establishment.

Part of the reason it's probably been allowed to remain is because the owner was not a big Utah Jazz fan. Plus, it's supposedly signed which makes it kind of cool, so maybe the owner thought that the patrons might enjoy seeing the framed photo. Also, we're a 90 minute drive to any local games which a true fan might not want to live so far away from the action. Add to the fact that the restaurant has changed hands three times in the past two years means that the person who originally hung the photo is no longer with the company and will not face any fan backlash seeing #20's face smiling at the patrons.

Of course, my theories could be completely wrong about why the picture remains hanging on a wall in a local restaurant. It is hanging in the hallway that leads to the bathrooms, after all.

Give Thanks...Getting To Know A Few Authors

 Friday, the family checked out an estate sale a mile or so from our house. They hired a company to hold the sale. That was a little different than the usual estate sales held around here. Let's just say we were not prepared for what we experienced when we walked through the door.

I've seen Deseret Industries with less stuff to sell.

They had...everything. Appliances, DVDs, clothes, collectable dolls, dishes, at least seven fax machines (that I counted...), food storage, and books. Lots and lots of books. I noticed one right off the bat, Robison Well's The Counterfeit. I've read a couple of Robison's books. Never heard of that one. I had to get it.

I've been doing this author thing for about a decade. In that time I've met many authors. I know some better than others. Robison and his brother Dan are local favorites. It's strange that I didn't know these people a decade ago and now the authors I've met are some of my favorite people.

Something that surprised me from the start is, at least the authors I've met, is how nice and genuine they are. Almost all of them want you to succeed, to finish those WIPs, to be bold in the words you produce. I'm thankful for those friendships. I'm thankful for the help they've given not only me, but so many others. I'm thankful that when I enter a home with literally hundreds of books from both big and small, I found one written by someone I've met and done panels with and who I can call a fellow Utah author.

It's a cool feeling.

Love Me Some Track And Field...

 Maybe I love watching the track and field events in the Olympics because I used to run. I was, by no means, an elite runner. I was okay. I use "okay" to mean that I could run faster than about I'd say 80% of the boys in my high school. I ran track, but only my senior year and I took the class mostly because most of my good friends also ran track.

I've always loved watching track and field.

To me, it seems track and field is sort of the red-headed stepchild of the Olympics. There's so many events in track and field that it takes up most of the second half of the games. It's not flashy (most of it...). It's not gymnastics or basketball or swimming. Still, I think some of the most amazing displays of human strength and agility can be found around the track and on the field.

I can't say none of it is "flashy." The sprint races are insane, culminating on the mens's and womens's 100 meter races. So much emotion over in under ten seconds and just over ten seconds, respectively. Maybe I like it because I see people doing things I could only dream of, like a basketball-loving kid watch their idols in the NBA.

I think if I had unlimited funds and opportunity, if I could attend one Olympic venue during the games, it would be sitting among the tens of thousands of fans in the big stadium getting blown away by some of the world's best athletes put on a show.

For me, it's just the best.

Maybe It's A Portal To Another Dimension...

 Of course, I know it's not a portal...it's a section of our vinyl fencing in the backyard. But, it could be.

It was some random thought I had while outside last night.

About thirty-five years ago I thought I wanted to start a comic strip. I came up with a character, Eliot, the Ultimate Introvert. Eliot was a monster living in Lake Loch Ness. After I came up with the character, I asked myself, how do those who write comic strips come up with the incredible storylines day after day, week after week, year after year? They were so creative. How do they do it?

I came to the conclusion that creativity is something that becomes easier the more you do it. If you think about the comic strip, the ideas come. The same can be said for photography. A good photographer will see things others don't see, even though they may be looking at the same thing. A photographer's brain has trained itself to see the unusual, the creative. 

What does this have to do with a pattern created by sunlight from a setting sun bouncing off a house window? The writer will see the pattern and wonder if it could be a way for a story to begin...an unsuspecting youth, for example, when trying to catch a thrown football falls and flies toward the family's newly-installed vinyl fence. Knowing he's about to destroy the section, the child closes his eyes, waiting for the inevitable crash, and the expected scolding from his stern father.

Instead, he finds...

Nothing.

No crash, no splintered vinyl falling upon him as he hits the ground. The boy looks up and sees a brilliantly blue sky. He rises and is surrounded by wild flowers and tall grasses. He looks about and sees himself in a field, not a human or building in sight. What happened to the fence? What happened to his house? Where the heck is he now? And most importantly, how the devil is he going to get back home?

Yeah...just some random thoughts I had last night.

Summer Moon...

 Full moon, July, 19th, 2024.

Taking a shot of the moon with my phone camera is always risky, and by risky, I don't mean problematic, but more...the shots almost never work out. You know, photographic risky. A few weeks back, I found myself outside, atop a gently rising hill overlooking a valley bathed in moonbeams.

I took a picture, then another. Then, I sort of forgot about it. I take so many pictures (but, not too many...). Currently the count is over 48k in photos on my computer, over 2k in videos (not so much a videographer...). 

But, I looked at the photo from 7/19/24...not too bad.

I'm amazed at how technology directly affects our lives. I'm also amazed that no matter how incredible the tech, it rarely matches what the human eye can see. It's the old "the photo can't match the real thing" thing. Theh photo lacks emotion, lacks a soul...the soul only the viewer possesses.

Still, looking at the shot reminds me of a full summer moon over a northern Utah valley.

And it makes me happy.