Give Thanks...Clear Skies

 I'm no scientist. There's so much I don't understand. Case in point...where did all the smoke go and why did it only take one day to clear it out?

Like much of the country, smoke from wildfires have invaded our little valley the past couple of weeks. Actually, it's been off-and-on for the past couple of months. We're lucky enough to get smoke from west coast fires, Idaho fires, Nevada fires, even Utah fires. The day before these pictures were taken, you could not see the mountains to the east. 

Then, the next morning, I took a couple of pictures of an incredibly beautiful cloudy sky, pretty much smoke-free.

Where in the world did that smoke go?

Did it go east to Colorado, or south to Arizona? I don't think it went north or west, but I could be wrong. All I know is it was no longer polluting the air and damaging our health. I'd like to think it went away so no others had to deal with it.

I'm thankful for the beautiful skies, and in a way, I'm also a little bit thankful for the smokey skies because that makes the smokeless skies that much better. I'm thankful to live in such an incredible place with stunning views. I'm thankful for God's handiwork and that another fire season is coming to a close.

Still...it would be interesting to know where that darn smoke went.

What Sweet Joy...That Is A New Road

 When we moved to this little hamlet in the north almost four years ago, we bought in a new subdivision on the northwest part of town. The existing road, 1000 North (that's how they name streets around here...) that connected us to the world had been around for decades and it seemed to serve the community well.

Then, things change.

That change is more people...including us.

The city improved 1000 North up to a point, then it got narrower and full of potholes. The locals had put up with the crap road for years. Rumor had it that the city had plans to fix the road, but apparently, they had been saying that for a long time. Those living up here took the "I'll believe it when I see it" attitude.

Yesterday, I drove on the newly-paved, newly-completed road. It's beautiful! Wide as the open sky and not a pothole in sight. I admit, we've been spoiled since moving up here with new neighbors and new roads. Not everything was rosy. Teaching my two boys to drive on that road was scary. To avoid the potholes you either had to drive almost off the road in the weeds, or into the other lane--not too bad when no one else was coming toward you, but when they were...

Of course, there's a price of having nice things. Taxes are and will continue to go up. Maybe because the road is nicer, people will drive faster than they should and accidents might happen (I pray they don't...). Still, it's a new road just in time for winter.

What sweet joy it is.

Every Year I Worry...If The Suit Still Fits

 If you've read this blog for any length of time, you know autumn is my favorite season. I dislike the heat of summer so when things cool down, it's heavenly. I love football season and the start of the holidays, with Halloween being the first.

Love Halloween.

Except for the covid year in 2020, I've been involved in a Halloween show at our local amusement park. The show's Séance, and it's fantastic. Those fortunate enough to have experienced the show know what I'm talking about. Back in 2017 we began our adventure and I was given our costumes, our uniforms, the clothes we needed to wear.

Eight years later...the suit still fits.

Before covid, I did a lot of community theater, a couple of shows a year. Doing a show kept me "in my clothes," as it were. I could (almost...) eat whatever I wanted and didn't have to worry about fitting into my suit when Halloween rolled around. After covid, I haven't done one show, except Séance. And it's not a "physical" show...not a lot of dancing--none, in fact...except maybe backstage...at times.

This year, I went through the usual pre-show "does my suit still fit" jitters. Turns out, it fit well, better than the past couple of years. If you're in the area and want to see Séance, come check it out. And if you do, you'll see me in a suit that still fits.

Man...I Love Thursdays!

 I suppose we all have our favorite days of the week. T.G.I.F. became famous for that very reason. Yes, I like Fridays, but I love Thursdays.

I've been one of the fortunate individuals who work four ten-hour shifts each week. Years ago, our inspired state governor at the time, Jon Huntsman, Jr., changed things up. He made almost all state employees work Monday through Thursday. Some hated it. I wished they'd done it decades earlier. 

Angry state legislators decided to overturn that wonderful decision and most returned to a regular five day, eight-hour per day work week. I got to keep my Mon-Thurs, and I've done it for almost twenty years.

Thursdays, for me, are wonderful. Even having to work for ten hours, those ten hours go quicker on Thursdays, phone calls aren't as annoying or hectic on Thursdays, investigating or clearing tasks go smoother on Thursdays. It's just the way it is.

Then, after the work day/work week comes to an end, I pick up dog crap from the backyard, empty the garbage from the house, and take the cans to the street for pick-up. After that, I can sit on the couch and enjoy the week that was and the weekend that is about to be.

Everyone has a favorite day, or days. Thursday's are mine.

Interesting Question From A Writer Friend...

 A writer friend posted this question on social media a few weeks ago. It piqued my interest and made me think (perhaps, those are the same things...). It's a good question. 

Especially, coming from a writer.

Why, you may ask? Because these two classic hypotheticals make up so many storylines in stories. There's either the amazing person doing normal things, or the normal person doing extraordinary things. Kindergarten Cop is an example of the former, and Norther By Northwest is an example of the latter. 

When I saw the post I commented that, "I'd say, in a way, we live in both." My friend asked me to elaborate. So here you go.

If you change your perspective, everyone and everything around you is amazing, magical. There's literal miracles occurring around you every day, all the time. A sunrise, or sunset, the loyalty of a dog, the sheer joy of a toddler's laugh. These are magical things performed by people with magical powers. And we're spectators in the grand experience.

Then again, because everything is magical, everything is amazing, we ourselves are also magical and amazing. Which means, we have within each of us the ability to do things that seem magical to others. We can lift another's spirits by a kind word or a smile. We can take a photo, write a poem, some can even perform surgeries and save lives. We are capable to so much...

It's magic.

So, in a way we are both magical beings living in an ordinary world and ordinary people living in a magical sphere. 

That's what I meant.

How Much Is Too Much...? I Never Know

 This past summer we happened upon an estate sale. They were selling everything, and I mean, everything. They had an entire room just for jewelry. In that room I spotted a bottle of Polo, by Ralph Lauren. It's been decades since I bought any kind of cologne. I never wear the stuff.

Which begs the question...how much is too much?

Polo was big when I was in high school and in my twenties. I never bought any then, either. It was pretty pricey. At the estate sale I picked up this bottle for $5. I brought it home and opened up the cap. It was potent. Since I don't go out in public that often, no need to be smelling my best for others. Plus, my family has sensitivity to smells, especially cologne and perfume fragrances. 

I decided to use it for my weekend gig. I'm out in public. I ought to be non-offensive-smelling...thought I'd give it a try. Since I don't wear it that often, I had to ask my co-workers if what I put on was too much. I thought I had overdone it. Turns out, not so much. The last thing I wanted to do was be "that guy," the one who you can smell coming a minute before they enter the room.

In the seven previous seasons of my gig, I never put on cologne. I might abandon the whole thing this year, too. I guess we'll see what happens.

Happy Birthday...President Nelson

 In the section of the country where I live, many are celebrating a man who turns one-hundred years old today, the leader of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, President Russell M. Nelson. I've never met him personally, but I join many of my friends, family, neighbors, and others around the world wishing him a happy birthday.

President Nelson was born the same year as my father, who would have turned one-hundred in November, also. Like any leader, some do not like the man, or the organization he steers. He's an easy target, someone who has his beliefs that may not align with others. I'm sure many are doing the opposite of wishing him a happy birthday.

Reaching one-hundred years is a milestone. Heck, I'm closer to one-hundred than I am to zero. I have no idea if I'll make it or not. I can say that the changes I've experienced in the past decade were more than I expected. Another four decades...who knows?

So, on this day, the 9th of September, 2024, I raise a toast of root beer (or original Coca-Cola, if the mood strikes me...) to President Nelson. Happy birthday, President. Here's to even more.

Give Thanks...There's Man-Made, Then, There's God-Made

 You might have missed it, and not necessarily because of your eyes. The picture--depending on where you saw it--shows an almost hidden treasure. If you look in the upper right-hand corner, you'll see something I missed the first time I looked at the photo.

It's something man-made.

I took the photo because the cloud and the sun behind it. The rays extending out were beautiful. I wasn't sure if I'd use it for my Pic Of The Day, but I thought it might work. When I took a second look , I noticed the vapor trail behind a jet. That's when I thought about man-made vs. God-made. 

There's really no comparison. 

On this fading Summer evening, I drove home and watched an incredible Northern Utah sunset. I was driving so I didn't get a photo. That's okay because the scene became part of me, part of who I was. It was another example of God's handiwork. I saw the sunset as I drove a car 71 m.p.h...the car being one of mankind's greatest accomplishments.

Beautiful sunset vs. functioning automobile?

No comparison.

I'm thankful I captured both man-made and God-made accomplishments in one photo. I'm thankful for both, actually. We live in amazing times.

Introducing...Stitch

 Hello, there.

Last month we did something crazy...crazy, for us, anyway. We went to an auto dealership and left signing documents for a new--to us--automobile. 

Like everyone, our family is changing, transitioning. All of our children have graduated from their teenage years. Now, all of our children have cars and/or a truck. I have Donk, my Subaru Forester, and we had our trusty Pontiac Vibe and Toyota Sienna. Since the kids had their own cars, we didn't need the Vibe, and since we're no longer needing to haul kids around, we didn't need the van.

So, we picked up a Hyundai. 

You can blame my mom-in-law for our conversion to Hyundais. She bought her first Hyundai, a Santa Fe, ten or so years ago, and she loved it. So much so, she bought another one. We wanted a fuel-efficient car, plus something that's all-wheel drive. Hyundai's fit the bill. We test-drove a couple and found this Tucson with low miles and bought it. We haven't bought a car from a dealer since 2008.

Big changes...small changes.

What's interesting is, this is my wife's car. The van was technically hers, too, but I it felt more like ours. When she and I would go somewhere, I drove the van...it was just understood. Now, I've driven Stitch a few times, but it just feels like her car (and the stickers and pink sparkly license plate holder confirm it...).

It's been dubbed "Stitch" and it fits. 

Another funny thing--it's silver. Mine is the only non-silver/gray car we've had in decades. I like the color, but it would have been fun with something else. Introducing, Stitch. 

Good name.

I Can't Go...But You Should DEFINITELY GO!

 A dear friend is putting on his annual comedy film festival tonight in Layton, Utah. It's at the Davis Art's Counsel Kenley Amphitheater, 7:30pm start.

Unfortunately, I'm unable to attend due to my fall gig beginning tonight. Ever since I found out about this killer event, I've only been able to attend once...a salute to Steampunk and it was a blast--literally. If you know Craig Nybo, you know this show represents his creative mind come to life. Each year, a different theme, each year, a different show, each year, amazing results.

If you're interested, click HERE for more information. 

I've known Craig for about ten years. He constantly amazes me...the man has talent in buckets, and yet, he's the kind of person who will take time out of his insane schedule and ask you how you're doing, ask you about your family, or what you're working on. He's a genuine dude. 

Like I said, I don't know what you'll see tonight when you go to the Gangrene Comedy Film Festival, but I'm sure you've never seen anything quite like it. Come on--give it a shot. Go tonight, if not for yourself, but for me who am unable to attend.

You won't regret it.

I Like Shoes, But...

 Last week my wife and I were in a local shop looking for things for my daughter's new place. We focused mostly on furniture, but I had to check out the shoes. This is a store that buys returned goods from Amazon, stuff that's never been used, and they sell it at a discount. I've found a couple of good pairs of shoes there, so I checked them out.

Then I saw, these.

I do like shoes, but not all shoes. I rarely wear dress shoes and I've got many pairs to cover those occasions. I thought about an event coming up where they might work. However, the fact they might not work was far bigger than them working. I sort of dismissed the idea of getting a pair, until I heard the shop's owner say...

"All shoes are 1/2 off tomorrow."

We explained that tomorrow we'd be loading up a truck and spending the entire day moving. We wouldn't be able to be there tomorrow. She then said, "You're good customers. If you want, I'll give you the 1/2 off right now."

Hmmm...

They were only $14. I had that in cash in my pocket. 

I made a quick decision and picked them up. Turns out my instinct that they wouldn't work proved true. Still, I thought it was worth the risk. Now, I wonder if I'll ever wear them. Who knows? I might find a reason to put them on and walk about town.

The funniest part was when we told the store owner we were getting them, she said, "Good. Now my teenage son won't be able to buy them."

Classic!

Sometimes...You Have To Travel With Crap

 Saturday was...interesting.

We knew it would be busy, and it lived up to what we thought. I'm glad we were busy--we helped our daughter relocate to a new home, which allowed us to park another car into the garage. We also knew it would be a long day, which it was.

Pretty much dusk til dawn.

The day went great. Even though we were a few hours later than we wanted to be, we eventually pulled up with a big moving truck stuff with my daughter and her husband's stuff. A few hours later, we departed, two cars, one moving truck, five people, and a standard poodle (couldn't leave the dog home all day...).

Of course, the truck wasn't completely empty...it did have a bag of dog doodoo in the cab. We would have left it at my daughter's house, but they didn't have any city garbage cans yet, and it would be easier for us to discard it on our way home, which we did.

You know, sometime you have to travel with crap. We took it so our daughter didn't have to deal with it. Sometimes life's like that, too...you take the crap so others don't have to. If things had worked out as normal, there would be no crap in the cab, nor would there be this post.

I guess you just have to roll with it and hope for the best.

Getting To Know...Grandma Ona Marie

 Last month I received a treasure, a collection of memories from a woman I never met, but to whom I owe my existence...My Grandma Ona Marie. A family member, Patty, sent me a photo album which included photos of my mother's mother as well as several examples of quilts she made...

Beautiful quilts.

The photo album was such a nice gesture. I'm constantly amazed at how thoughtful and considerate people are...something at which I wish I were better. But Patty went the extra mile, put in time and resources, and sent to--not only me, but to my family--something wonderful.

I never met Marie (her obituary lists her as O. Marie...), but the album gave me a better idea of the woman she was. I never met my adoptive grandmothers, either, one dying about twenty years before I was born, and the other, about a year after. I guess I did meet one of them, but I have no memory of it.

Marie was born in Missouri in 1914 and passed away in Arizona in 2000. The last half of the album is dedicated to her artistic talents of quilting. I don't know how many people quilt anymore...I'm sure far fewer than in generations past. I love the symmetry, the colors. I'm sure every quilt has a story to tell, if not overt, then subtle. It would be fun to have a conversation with her about those quilts.

A year ago, I knew nothing of these people, those who sacrificed for future generations (me...). In the months since I was "found," I'm getting to know them. The photo album is something that allows me to connect, to understand, to appreciate. I'm grateful for them, and the kind gesture of the gift. Thanks, Patty.

Shouldn't Have Called It...Heavy

 This Labor Day morning we decided to do some cleaning, some re-arranging, some discarding. The garage needed cleaning and this morning was a perfect day to do it. We sort of knew what we needed to keep and what we needed gone. The biggest thing that needed to go was a wardrobe my daughter bought last year in anticipation of her and her husband moving into an apartment/home.

That happened over the weekend.

The wardrobe didn't make it on the truck.

No problem--we'll just put in on our local Facebook Classifieds and someone will pick it up. Turns out, others don't think like I do. Last night I took a few pictures of the wardrobe and posted it. I included the dimensions (4' 8" x 6' 1" x 24...). It's a nice unit, well-built and spacious.

But, I did something I shouldn't have done...

I called it heavy.

That's because it is. It took several of us to get it off the truck after we bought it. We parked it in the garage and left it. I mentioned what we wanted for it--at a loss from what we paid-- and even included "o.b.o." a sure sign we want it gone. But I said it was heavy. I immediately included "sturdy." I thought if someone was looking for a good piece of furniture, they would want to be sturdy.

This morning, no hits...not even a whiff. The problem was, we have no place to put it until someone picked it up. We decided to use it for our own storage, so I quickly deleted the post and now it's home for irrigation and gardening supplies. 

Just goes to show you, don't call things, "heavy," not even furniture.

Give Thanks...For Choral Music

 This morning I did a little channel surfing and I came upon the weekly broadcast of the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square. They're kind of famous, and I've known about them all my life. That happens growing up in Utah.

The first time I joined a choir was my senior year of high school. I didn't sing in jr. high school because I was in the band. In high school I left my baritone behind and went music-less for three years. My senior year I got involved, ran track, took drama, and choir. I had a great year. I loved choir.

Fast forward a few years and I'm sitting in an econ class when my friend from high school sat next to me before the first class began. He said he wasn't in the class, but he needed to transfer because he got into an a'cappella choir that was going to England next spring. I asked if they needed more singers. He said they might. That day I went to the choir class and auditioned. I made the grade. 

I was in that choir class for four years. I loved choir.

In fact, it changed my life.

Fast forward a few decades. Since college, I've done plays and was even in a choir or two. I've always loved singing, even to this day...even if my voice is not what it once was. Now, I have several friends in The Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square, the state's (and one of the country's...) top choirs. I'm too old to realistically join, even though I wonder what it would be like to be a member. The reason I'd love to join even now is because I know how much fun it is to sing with others as well as being with good, talented people. Their music is beautiful. The experience, I'm sure, is even better.

I'm thankful for choral music, even though I was late to the party. I'm thankful for the music, for the art. There's a spirit singing conjures (for good or bad...), a synergy. There's nothing quite like it. Sing on, my brothers and sisters...sing on.