Finally...It's My Turn To Do A Little Snackin'

 It wasn't until the bag of fast food was passed from the drive-through window, through the driver's side window, from the driver, to me sitting in the passenger seat that I realized I could participate in one of life's great simple pleasures...

Snacking on fresh, hot, crisp french fries on the car ride home.

It's something I rarely do.

You see, when my wife and I decide to go get take-out, it's me who drives. It's not a chauvinist thing...well, maybe it is, but it doesn't feel that way. It's just how we do things. I drive--my wife is handed the sack of food and we drive away. It's my wife who gets to do a little snacking as we pull out of the parking lot and onto the road.

I've been a little bit jealous. Of course, from time to time I might get a fry or two, but I usually wait until we get home. And my wife is more than happy to let me dig my grubby little fingers into the bag and retrieve some fries. It's just I usually wait.

Today, my son wanted to get more practice driving hours so he drove to get dinner and I rode shoot gun.

Because of how great the fries tasted only moments from the restaurant, I might let someone do the driving more often.

It's A Guy Thing...Revising A Classic Meme

Two years ago I used this exact same meme for a blog post. I didn't realize this until when I entered the label "Bad Financial Decisions" under the Labels section, the website told me I'd used that exact phrase once before.

But, do I look at life differently now?

I'm going to leave what I wrote below. Much is the same as on the previous blog post (if you want to read it click: HERE if you're interested...). On the old post I said I'd include a photographer guy, a drone guy, and a musical instrument guy. I did not include musical instruments on this post. So, hope you like reading my new thoughts on the same topic.

 I suppose it's not just a guy thing, but at least, I understand it. Of the following knights and/or king, I'm maybe half those people. And there's probably things I would put on this list, that is missing. I'm not a boat guy, I'm not a knife guy, or a PC guy, or a golf guy, or a gun guy (not because I'm against them...), or a gamer guy. 

Had I the money, I could be a car guy or a Lego guy or a gun guy or a watch guy. I'd also be a book guy and a camera guy (including drones...), and some other things I'd have to think about.

The reason I'm not a car or Lego or gun or watch or camera or book or other things is based on the big thing all the pointing things are pointing at...bad financial decisions. I'm not saying I always make good financial decisions, but there are a lot of things I don't buy because of that. The main reason is I like to eat, I like my family to eat. I like to sleep under a roof with an address where mail can be delivered and I like my family to have that same level of comfort.

When you think about it, it doesn't matter how much money you have. Even if you're a billionaire, spending money foolishly is a bad financial decision.

Still, I'd like to be a billionaire and test my theory myself.

Didn't They Sell All The Hot Tubs...?

Nope. 

They did not.

If you watch our local TV station that plays Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy each day, you will see local ads selling mostly cars and hot tubs. It's the hot tub ads that are getting to me.

Back in the spring, a local events center put on a sale...millions of dollars worth of hot tub inventory was being sacrificed at bargain-basement prices, all in an effort to get rid of the old models to make room for the new ones. Every day, over and over again during the game shows they played that ad. Thankfully, the sale was only that weekend and then, the sale ended.

Or so we thought.

Apparently, they did not sell enough hot tubs because a few weeks later, the annoying ads returned. They needed another sale. Oh well...it's only another week.

So, why are they now doing the same sale again? Do the new models need to make room for even more new models? I guess so.

I'm wondering if they'll ever run out of hot tubs. I'm thinking...

No.

Maybe Too Much Soccer...

 Last year we cut the cord, the cable cord. For the most part, it's been fine. Life goes on and in many ways, we are better off for it. Then came soccer season. And not just any soccer season...international play. Right now, there are two major tournaments going on, The European Cup across the pond, and the America Cup on this side of the pond.

The best players in the world playing for national pride.

I know not everyone is a soccer fan, but I am, especially when national teams play.

The problem? We cut the cord and these games are only available on cable. I did a little research to see if I could go to different channels in different countries and watch a game or two. Looks like those in charge were thinking people would do this. The result: no access.

I did see a Spanish cable channel that was broadcasting both tournaments...Vix. After a little more research, I found out my phone carrier offers that channel free for one year. Nice. I signed up and I'm able to get all the soccer I can watch. 

Can there be too much soccer?

The only downside (other than perhaps too much soccer...) is all broadcasts are in Spanish. I don't mind watching the games on mute, but I found the toughest thing about signing up is...well, signing up. I had no idea what "Forgot Your Password?" is in Spanish. Now that I'm all signed in, things are better.

For some, any soccer is too much. For others, even live games broadcast 24-hours a day would not be enough.

Me? I'm somewhere in the middle.

I Have Faith...In The Fig

 Our daughter-in-law gave us a fig tree several months ago. We kept it inside until the weather warmed, then we'd put it outside during the day to get used to the new world in which it would soon be a part. Last week we planted it in the north end of our backyard.

Then, we worried.

Before we planted it, we wondered if it was not doing well, or in other words...dying. The big beautiful leaves started to brown. I'm no expert in trees generally, or fig trees specifically, but we hoped it would enjoy its new location in the yard.

We watered it everyday and waited.

A few days ago I thought I saw a green bump growing at the top of the fig. Turns out, it's a new leaf. I went out today and saw the leaf actually taking shape. Even though it's way early in the process, I'm thinking our little fig tree just might make it after all.

I have faith in the fig.

Give Thanks...For My Friend Clifford Hughes

 I found out this past week a childhood friend passed away five years ago...

Five years.

And I only found out now.

Cliff and I grew up together. We went through elementary, jr. high, and high school. He was born nine days after me. We did scouts, sports, church (which was basically the same thing...), and if I'm not mistaken, even Dungeons and Dragons. There was a time when I talked about my best friends, Cliff was included in that conversation.

It's strange how people who meant so much to you at one point in your life can basically fade into memory.

Since graduation four decades ago (gads, that's a long time...), I've often wondered what happened to Cliff. After being released from being legally forced to spend time in the same educational building, we all went our separate ways. Most stayed close, but according to his obituary, Cliff moved east, one state over. He worked, had children, who in turn, had children making Cliff not only a father, but grandfather. There are no details as to his passing, other than the date.

As Cliff and I grew up, we made different decisions. I ended up choosing new friends who more aligned with the way I wanted to live my life, but Cliff was never "not my friend," at least, that's how I felt. Whenever we had a high school class together, we'd sit by each other and talk. Cliff had a good heart. He never made me feel bad for not hanging out with him as we grew older. 

Even though I haven't spoken to him for over forty years, the news hit hard. I feel for his children, grandchildren, those who knew him as a child, like me, and those who knew him in all those years in between. I'm thankful I could always call Cliff my friend. Since hearing the news, memories of those times years ago have returned. I'm thankful to have known Cliff. I'm thankful for those memories.

Finding Family In Teton Valley History...

 I can't remember exactly when, but several months ago I came across a Facebook group called Teton Valley History. I asked to join the group and my request was granted.

It's been fascinating.

For years, Teton Valley was a second home for me and my family. It's because it was my mom's first home. She was born there and grew up there. Many of my early remembrances were of taking a family trip in my dad's huge Buick 225 to Driggs, Idaho to spend time with my grandfather...the only grandparent I ever knew.

Driggs, Idaho and Teton Valley was a child's paradise. My grandfather had a farm, complete with a few dairy cows. I remember watching him milk the cows (or hooking up the milking machines...) and even spraying milk to some cats who happened by. Whether or not the cats belong to his farm, I don't remember, but was a child seeing that, boy...it was pure gold.

Every time a post from Teton Valley History pops up on Facebook, I check it out. I look for familiar names, Knights, Price, Dalley, Poole. I didn't see a lot, but today in researching the site, I did a name search and checked out the photos. I found my grandfather, my great-grandparents, and my uncles. I have yet to see a photo of my mom, however. I'll keep looking.

Before my mother passed away, she compiled a family photo and history album. I have several photographs of my family going back generations. I think I'll contact the person who runs the Facebook page to see if he'd like them.

This is a photo of my great-grandparents and their steam engine car. How cool would that be to see that thing run?

Very cool.

I love seeing photos of the people of that noble valley. I don't know them, but I know they were a tough bunch, willing to endure some of the most brutal winters, but lucky enough to live in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Yes...80s Music Is The New Elevator Music

 I saw this photo the other day, I don't know where. But, I had to snap a picture and send it to m wife. It describes us to a T.

A few years ago we bought a sound bar for our living room TV. It was on sale during Black Friday. It's not a good one, but it does what it's supposed to do--it amplifies music from our phones. It's perfect for when we bring out the duster and the vacuum cleaner from the laundry room and start cleaning, all the while listening to the songs of our youth.

We listen to my wife's playlist. I'm too lazy to create my own playlist so we use her's, and the one we listen to most is: 80s Alternative.

If you're not familiar with 80s Alternative, just listen to the music being pipped into the overhead speakers when you go shopping. 80s Alternative is the new elevator music. If you're too young to recognize elevator music, don't worry--just wait a decade or two and you'll be shopping for unspoiled produce when a song will come over the speakers and you'll stop.

Then, you'll remember the song.

Then you'll find it unbelievable that a song you used to dance to with your friends is now playing w/o lyrics on the grocery store sound system.

Then, you'll realize you're old.

But don't worry. Just go home, crank the tunes on your home speaker system, and do some cleaning.

Still...Don't Know What I Did Wrong

 I've posted on Facebook every day...every single day...since January 2011. I posted many things before that, but I'm sure it wasn't a daily activity. I know I've posted everyday after that date because I've written a daily blog and posted it on Facebook since that time.

A few weeks ago I posted a picture of something sold in our local grocery store. It's not something you'd find in a grocery store in a big city. No, it had to do with guns and they things you put in guns. They pulled the picture and said the subject matter was at odds with their policy. I understood it--I didn't agree with it, but I understood it.

Earlier this month I wrote a blog post about several garage sales that took place in a small town to the north of us. It was a cool event. There were so many, we didn't hit them all and if you know us, you know there had to be a lot of them for us to get too tired to carry on. I blogged about it and they pulled it.

For the life of me, I still don't know what I did wrong.

The above picture shows what Facebook considers spam. In my opinion I did none of them. I can't even see how they misunderstood how my post--or what words--tripped their algorithm to have it pulled. Believe me, whatever it was, I'd try and change it so I could re-post it.

I thought about tweaking the post and re-submitting it, but it's not worth it. With two "slaps on the hand" I don't want to get a third. Who knows what happens then?

I've been pulled twice. One I understand. One I don't think I'll ever understand.

Maybe Drone Flying Is Not For Me...

 Maybe. Like many people, drones--the ones individuals fly, not the military--have fascinated me. My first drone was this little thing...I think it cost fifty bucks more than a decade ago. I had a blast with it. I flew it a lot and beat it up pretty good. Because it was cheap the batteries began to expand and without batteries, it's junk.

So, when I had some extra cash, I bought a better drone. This one flew great, I had more control (less crashes...) and, again, I loved flying it. The main problem is the camera. It did take video and still photos, but the still photos were okay, and the video was terrible. I guess you get what you pay for.

I sort of gave up on the hobby for a few years, then at a yard sale I found a cheap drone. I bought it, I got it home, and found it didn't have a way to charge the batteries. I went back and asked if I could just get (or buy...) the charging cord. He offered another drone package (charger included...) for half price. I thought, great. With two I can have one for parts when it breaks down. The deal was done. I took them both home.

I never got either of them to work. The one that worked best burned out a motor (saw actual smoke...) so I took them both apart, re-soldered two motors and put it all back together again.

Finally, everything looked like it was going to work.

Once again, I couldn't get it to fly. The video is my last attempt...two crashes.

I should have just saved up and bought a good drone, one that had a camera that gave me what I wanted. Now, I don't know if I even want to do it. Maybe it wasn't the drones, but the operator. I don't think so because I was able to get older, less technological drones to fly.

I don't know how this story will end...I only know how it's gone so far.

Crash and burn.

When You Have No In-Laws When You Marry...

 My father's parents were born in 1885 and 1886.

That's a long time ago.

My father was born in 1924. By the time my mom met my dad in the mid-1950s, my dad's parents had both passed away. As I grew up I wondered what that was like for my mom. She had no in-laws...she never met them. She didn't have to worry about her husband's mother not accepting her or judging her. She just married my dad and didn't have to deal with any of that.

Last week, my wife and I attended a wedding reception where the groom's parent could not attend. Unfortunately, they were both gone...gone too soon.

Because of my situation, I wondered what it was like to not have in-laws. I wonder if anyone else has thought about what that would be like.

Of course, not knowing or meeting your spouse's parents has a lot of drawbacks. You wouldn't be able to ask then things only the parents would know, things like how the spouse was as a baby, why they chose the name they did. And, no babysitters for the grandparents. Parents are a world of knowledge that only they would know and without them, the married couple's life is missing something wonderful.

My cousin's son got married. It's too bad his spouse never got to meet Kris and Zach, two of the most amazing people I've ever known. It's a shame. I guess that meeting will take place later...hopefully, much later.

Imagine If The Main Character In "Inside Out 2" Were...A Boy

 I haven't seen Pixar Film's latest offering, Inside Out 2. I don't know when I will, or if I will. We see very few film in the theater. The closest movie theater is over twenty miles away from us, but we didn't go see films in theaters even when we lived just up the road from a multiplex.

I saw the first Inside Out when it came out years ago. It was okay, not one of my favorites. For me, Pixar Films seemed to begin a downward spiral around the time this particular film came out. It coincided with our children no longer being the targeted age (even thought they're written for adults, too...). I will give Pixar some props--the first installment was not your usual movie. The plot was original and imaginative and they took some chances. 

So, they made a sequel.

Since it recently hit theaters, I've seen the ads on TV and on the internet. Now, instead of Riley being eleven-years old, she's now thirteen, a teenager (even though there's nine years in real time between the releases of both films...). A thought came to me as I watched yet another ad. 

It's a good thing they didn't make Riley a boy in the first one.

I think Inside Out 2 would be a completely different film if Riley were a him and not a her. 

I have no experience being a thirteen-year old girl so I'm taking the film's writers's word for it that these are the thoughts of a thirteen-year old girl. Even though it was decades ago, I remember what it was like being a thirteen-year old boy and the film would need a few more "characters" inside a boy's mind fighting it out with all the others. I won't go into detail about what characters they would be, but I'm sure you can use your imagination. No, it would be a different film. We'll leave it at that.

But, would it be an important film? Is something like understanding the trials and hardships of a young boy as he learns about himself and the world around him important? Yes, it's an important thing to pursue. Bringing greater understanding to humanity in all its ages and seasons is always important.

Even though I might not see Inside Out 2, if it was about a thirteen-year old boy, I'd be at least intrigued.

Give Thanks...Ties Of My Father

 It's not that my mom threw away all my father's things after he passed away...she just put them in the basement.

Including this tie.

My parents lived through the Great Depression. My mom was born a couple of years after it began, but my father...he became a teenager before it was over. They saved everything. My dad built a huge house, considering the time. I didn't realize just how big it was until later. But inside, half of it wasn't finished when he passed away, just unfinished rooms full of stuff.

Including a lot of ties.

The tie I wore to church today was my father's. I believe he worked as a park ranger at Mt Rushmore for a summer, at least, that's what I was told. That's where he picked up this incredible tie. I took it on my mission--my mission president hated it. Most of the ties I inherited are skinny ties from the 1960s. I wore some of them on my mission, too.

It's Father's Day. I can't remember giving my father anything for Father's Day. I'm sure I did--my mom would have made us make something for him. I just don't remember. The joke is buying your dad a tie for Father's Day. Now, fewer people than ever wear ties. I'm thankful my mom didn't throw them out those many years ago. I'm glad I can wear a tie, not given to me by my kids...

But, by my dad.

I Get The Point...But It Won't Work

 Can't remember where I picked up the meme. It's funny, of course, but it's wrong.

I'm no expert on history. I only know what I've experienced in my almost six decades on this planet, but working less does not solve all of life's problems. Would I like to work less? Yes. Do I many times throughout a work day dream that I'm not only working less, but not having to a job at all? 

Yes.

I remember hearing about a socialist plan where--in their utopian world--the entire workforce only works half time, and two workers do the job that normally only one worker did. That way, the same amount of work would be done, but twice the workers would be "employed." Since all the work would get done, the money would be distributed so everyone would be happy and everyone would only work half the time.

"Imagine," the proponents would say. "You only work half a day. The rest of the time you can take your family to the beach or the mountains or anywhere. Think of all the freedom."

The first thing I thought of was visiting the national parks in Utah. If I worked half the time and had all that free time, I'd love to go to the National Parks in Utah and in other states. Then it hit me...

Everyone else would want to go there, too.

I don't know if you've visited any national parks lately. If there's one word to describe what it's like to visit a national park that work would be...crowded. I thought that if attendance in the parks suddenly doubled then the experience would be horrible. No one would enjoy themselves. Then I thought about it wouldn't just be national parks, but beaches, amusement parks, theaters...basically everything we do for leisure would suddenly turn into a nightmare.

So much for all that freedom.

Would I like to work less hours? Of course. And I have fewer years of work ahead of me than I do behind me. Like I said, I'm no expert, but I do believe there's something to be said for working more than relaxing. I think history has proven me right.

I Never Met Easton Liechty...But I'm Sure He Was Loved

 Yesterday, I found myself at a city park in Logan, Utah, in an area the locals call The Island. Cache Valley is beautiful, and this particular spot is idilic, surrounded by older trees and a river, unique homes and quaint streets.

In the park I found a plague, a tribute to Easton M. Liechty.

I've never heard of him.

Mr. Liechty passed away (according to Find A Grave website...) March 1997, more than twenty-five years ago. I'm sure when the plaque was placed at the base of a tree (perhaps planted at the same time...) almost everyone in attendance knew Easton, but as time goes on, fewer and fewer people who happen to pass that particular section of the park knew him, or know who he was.

Even though I don't know him, I know someone went to a lot of effort to create the plaque and jump through the hoops required to create the memorial in the first place. 

While the memorial sits under the tree day after day, year after year, do Easton's loved ones drop by to remember the man and conjure those memories they hold dear? Do family take young ones to that park and show them the plaque and tell them about the man they never knew?

I wondered these things after I snapped the photo. No, I never met Easton. I'll bet he was a great guy.

I Wonder If We Would Drink This...Even If We Hadn't Given Up Artificial Colors

 It's a product that's hard to miss...TruMoo's Blue Milk. It's the dairy equivalent to college football's Boise State field. In short, it's blue.

Years ago we discovered our family had sensitivities to artificial flavors, preservatives, and colors...especially colors. Removing those foods wasn't easy at first, but over the years it got better. We just eliminated foods and drinks (and medicines and other things...) that contained these artificial ingredients. 

But even if we hadn't given up the artificial stuff, would we drink it?

Good question.

I know the milk is a tie-in with Star Wars and they sell blue milk at the Star Wars exhibits at the Disney theme parks. I know many people who have gone to the Disney parks and tried the milk. I haven't heard anything bad so the product must not be too unpleasant.

Maybe if we hadn't sworn off artificial colors, we might try it, but since we did, things with obvious artificial coloring--to me--seems so unappetizing. So much so, I don't think I'd try it.

I guess that's the answer.

Man...Allergies, At Least For Me, Are Bad This Year

I don't know why, exactly, but this year's allergy season for me has been a tough one. Usually, it only lasts a week or two in the spring, and a week or two in the fall. Because it's not that bad, I just deal with it. I'm not on any prescriptions for it...I just tough it out.

I'm wondering if I need to re-think things.

This spring, I almost thought I had escaped the season. Since it never hits at a specific time, it was coming later than normal this year. Thus, my optimism. But, then the allergies hit several weeks ago, the itching eyes, the stuffed nose. I thought, I guess it didn't pass me by after all.

Like I said, I usually wait it out.

I'm wondering how long I have to wait.

Not being a doctor or a scientist, I'm guessing the super-wet spring last year and the wet spring this year has something to do with it. I did a quick internet search. The number one reason they say this allergy season is worse than others...climate change. Funny, the same headline was found on results from 2024, 2023, 2022...you get the picture. Personally, I'm calling bunk on the climate change excuse.

I can't tell if it's letting up, or saying the same. The "cup half-full" side of me says things are improving. I'll stick with that.

Here's to this year's allergy season. May the pollen forever be in your favor.

It's Too Bad More Houses Aren't Built Like This...

 You may be asking, "What do you mean, they don't build houses like this anymore?" I mean, it's a picture of a normal-looking house. You can find a similar house all across the country. It's got four bedrooms, two and one-half bath house, no basement, master suite and laundry on the main floor.

Like I said, a basic house.

But the house itself isn't unusual...the manner in which it was built is. You see, it was built by students. Too bad more houses aren't built like this.

I didn't know many of my dad's siblings. It's tough when most were born before 1925. My dad was number nine of twelve children, three were born after him. Of the twelve, I remember half a dozen, but I remember the last two of the twelve the best. My dad was a builder, among other things. He designed and built our family home. Too bad he didn't get to see it finished. 

His younger brother Jack also built houses. I don't know where they learned it, but they did. And the youngest of the family--the baby--went into public education. He retired years ago, but one thing he did was take high school students and taught them how to build a house.

So cool.

I wish they still taught that in high school.

Maybe they still do. Maybe somewhere out there they realize the importance of learning such a skill at an early age. If they do, those students are lucky.

The house in the picture was built by the students at Bridgerland Technical College. My son was one of those students. He graduated last week. Before the graduation ceremony we toured the house and we snapped a couple of pictures of things he actually worked on, door frames and tile, among others.

It's too bad more houses aren't built like that one. It's a great skill to learn.

Grilling In A Storm...

 It's timing, I guess.

We had family up this weekend so we decided to grill some steaks. It's June, proper grilling time. As Saturday ticked on and the dinner hour approached, another thing approached...a storm. We found a weather app a few months ago that tracks our area and we saw colorful radar screens roll toward our little town.

E.T.A. for the storm to hit: 6pm.

I dug out the grill, prepped the charcoal, lit the fire and hoped we could get the steaks grilled before the deluge arrived. After a few minutes, I put the coals inside and waited for them all to turn red. Once they were hot enough, I put the meat on the grill and waited again.

All the while, the wind kept building and building. Thankfully, I was able to close the cover over the food. And since they were steaks, they didn't have to be cooked all the way through.

As the food cooked, I snapped a picture at the incredible clouds to the north, clouds that represented the colorful radar pictures on the app. 

In the end, we had dinner, ate delicious food, as the storm that was supposed to hit and ruin our evening meal passed to the north and didn't hit us at all.

It's timing, I guess.

Give Thanks...For Change

 I wasn't supposed to lead the music in church today, but I was called upon, and so I did. I'm glad I did because I was able to lead the congregation in a new hymn, as indicated by the extra-long hymn number on a board which was not made for such long numbers.

The song's not new, of course. It's an old hymn, written by a sinner in the mid-1700s. 

If you're LDS and interested in the new hymns recently announced, hymn #1001 is Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. I thought I'd do a little research and I found a website that gave me some knowledge about the song's history, information I did not know. You can click: HERE to access the site.

If you're unfamiliar with the song, please click the link. In addition to some history, it also includes a link to the Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra at Temple Square performing an incredible rendition of the show. I urge you to click the video and turn up the volume. It's powerful, it's moving, it brings the spirt, and it includes close-ups of several people I know.

Today, I led a congregation singing the same song. It's one of my favorite songs and I'm so glad it's now included as an "official" LDS hymn. I'm thankful for the change to include it and other songs in the collection of song...some I know, some I don't. I look forward to learning and hearing them all.

With change, results can be positive or negative, depending on the results, or even more importantly, depending on how people react to those changes. Leading the music to this song was fun. I'm glad I was called upon this morning.

Experiencing Yard Sale Nirvana...

 This morning, we experienced yard sale nirvana. And most of the town participated.

Over the years, going to yard sales has become a family affair. It's become tradition for us to get in the car on weekend mornings and see what treasures are out there. Since we live in a small town, you can usually hit all the sales on any given spring/summer weekend.

Today, however, it was amazing.

In the above picture, each red marker represents an individual sale this morning in the town of Fielding. There's even more that I didn't include in the picture. After a flat tire incident, my wife and I set out for an even smaller town close to the Utah/Idaho border. 

There were so many places to stop and so many things to see, my wife and I got tired...there was almost too many sales. We started excited, but after stopping at so many, we decided to call it. There were many we didn't visit.

As far as things we bought, it wasn't much. We've made a decision to not buy as much stuff as we once did. Our house is filling up with things we bought at yard sales. We did find some Halloween decor, a US flag and pole, and had they a pair of bowling shoes that fit me, I definitely would have picked me up those.

We asked around. Apparently, this was Year 2 of the town's yard sale spectacular.

Can't wait for Year 3.

Chronicling First Steps...Times Have Changed

 Grandson started walking this week. Our first two boys were early walkers, both began walking before they turned nine months old. So, as the little fellow got bigger and stronger, we suspected he'd follow (literally...) in his father's footsteps.

It took him a few weeks longer than his dad.

But, he did it.

Yesterday the family got together to celebrate a graduation, and afterward, we gathered for brownies in the parking lot. The rest of the family got to see the small (literally...) miracle of the baby walking on his own.

I remember back when our kids learned to walk. Back then--and it wasn't all that long ago--when babies learned to walk, it might generate a phone call, especially if it's the first child's accomplishment. Oh, we'd brag to our friends at church or whenever we got together. And that would be about it. Eventually, people would know about the child's first steps and life would go on.

Now, well...times have changed.

Now, you can with your phone record the entire event, pre and post. You can send it out to the world for all to see, sort of like what I'm doing right now. If social media were available when my kids were babies, I'm pretty sure I would at least blog about things--I'd blog about each child's first steps, their first words, their first everything.

Yes, our first grandchild is walking.

And now, everyone can know about it.

Eighty Years...Will We Still Remember in Eighty More

 There seems to be a lot of attention being paid to the events that occurred in France eighty years ago today. I suppose, as it is an anniversary that ends in "0," it helps make the anniversary more meaningful. There's another reason, though. It's the last time any surviving veterans of that day will attend an anniversary that ends in "0." 

In ten years, they'll all be gone. 

That may not be entirely true. People do live past 110 on occasion. And they would have to live that long to hit the ninetieth anniversary of D-Day.

Surviving veterans will number in the tens, if at all.

My father enlisted at 18-years old in 1945. He was part of a B-17 bomber group over Germany. Earlier this year I found his crew, his planes, and the missions...information I never knew. I looked up everyone in the group. They all survived the war, but they're all gone now. I believe my father was the first of the group to go.

Because I never had the opportunity to speak to him about his time in the army, I have a connection to that war, but more in my mind...my imagination. Today, many who not only survived the hell on those beaches, but all the years since, returned to France. They survived living day to day, cheating death month after month, year after year while many of their loved ones did not.

I'm proud that my father served in that conflict as did millions of others. Whenever I see a picture of a B-17, I think of him. It's a beautiful plane...my personal favorite. It's a symbol of a price paid.

 We remember eighty years ago today. Will we remember the day in another eighty years? Few of us will be around--I certainly will not be--but I hope those living will honor the day in a way it deserves to be honored.

Are You A Label Reader...?

 When our kids were little, we started being more aware of the things we ate. Around the same time, we found out many of us had sensitivities to artificial colors, flavors, and preservatives. By eliminating them from our diets, it's helped in many ways. There's a trade-off, of course.

We started reading the labels.

It's a small thing, really. You read a label once and you find out if it's okay to try. If it's bad, you dismiss it and you don't have check again. And when you go shopping every week for years, you get to know the products. Still, every once in a while, I'll see something that looks good (mostly desserts and the like...) and I'll read a label. Almost every time, after reading the label I put whatever it is I'm checking back on the shelf.

Don't get me wrong. We can still eat better, but it's something we've tried to do and have kept it up for a couple of decades.

Reading the labels can be educational as well. Did you know that some things in food may cause cancer, but only in California? Apparently, it's true.

After all these years, I still don't know what all of those chemicals are, but I do know if there's a number involved, it's probably not good.

Some days, I'm able to pick up something delicious-looking and it'll be safe. I like those days.

Ever Wonder What Happens To The Pets At The Pet Store...? I Sometimes Do

 I guess it was a pet store, but pets are not the main things sold at the IFA. And they don't have pets all year around, just in the spring. However, all year long you can buy pet supplies. But if you think about it, much of the store deals with animals...horses, cows, chickens, goats, sheep.

Of course, some of those animals can be pets, but they're also food.

But, I digress.

The other day my wife and I went to the local IFA store to buy sprinklers supplies. We then walked around a bit and I spotted the baby chicks and some rabbits. (pets that could be food...). I snapped a picture of a rabbit and wondered...

What is going to happen to that little fellow?

I never had a rabbit as a pet, but my nephew had one. It was years ago, and we don't speak of the rabbit. Things did not end well...poor guy. A bunny is one of those pets that I think I would love, but I think the feeling would fade. I don't know, because I have no experience and because of that, I don't think I'd ever have a rabbit as a pet.

Which makes me wonder, is will this little guy have a good life? Will those who take him home take care of him? I surely hope so. Humans should take care of animals whenever possible.

Here's hoping.

Sure, The Trains Are Out When The Satellite Flies Over, But When We Visited...Nope

The other day I was doing a little internet surfing (okay, I was at church...) when I came across an updated satellite photo of Northern Utah. Now, some might say Northern Utah may not have as many interesting things to see from several hundred miles in space. I am not one of them.

I think I'm not alone when looking at satellite photos. You, of course, zoom in on where you live, then you zoom out to check out other places of interest. I scrolled west and saw the rocket factory located just over the hill from us (pretty cool to say you live next to a place that builds rockets...). From there, it's a few short clicks and you come upon an historical site that had a huge impact on American history.

Promontory Point.

The place where east met west and the Transcontinental Railroad was born.

I've heard about the place all my life. We learned about it in school, in Utah history classes. It's one of the things--among many--Utahns are proud of. However, I've only visited the site once. After we moved north, my wife and I took drives to see the area. This was before the gas prices exploded. We drove out on a Sunday and looked around.

When we went, the famous train replicas, The Jupiter and the 119, were not on display. They were in their garages, or whatever you call the place where trains go when not training. 

When I checked out the satellite photo, there they were. You can see them in the above photo, almost touching. One day I think it would be fun to go to the recreation of the event that joined the nation. Maybe one day I will. 

Then, I'll see the trains for sure.

Give Thanks...Felt Like Old Times

 Eleven years ago, a small publisher chose one of my stories to include in an anthology. Unlike almost all the authors I know, I did NOT know from childhood that I wanted to be a writer. Oh, I had dabbled, but I never thought I was smart enough or good enough to actually produce something anyone would want to read.

I went back to school, earned my masters in English, and started writing.

I was almost forty-five years old.

My story, a steampunk re-telling of H.C. Christensen's The Little Match Girl, was published through Xchyler Publishing and in the summer of 2013, a Steampunk Convention was held about ten miles from my house a few months later. I was asked to be on a writing panel about the book, steampunk, and writing in general. I was on Cloud 9. The first story I ever submitted was actually published.

For the next few years, I had a few other stories published, then a collection of my short stories, then a novel. And I kept going to book signings. Those first few were so exciting. My name on books...it felt sort of surreal. People actually buying my books was icing on the cake.

Then, when I didn't generate new material, I'd sit with friends and no one would buy anything from me. I still loved being around other authors, but things had changed. Eventually (and covid didn't help...), I stopped doing signings. 

Our little town has a summer reading kickoff party, in fact, it's called the Summer Reading Kickoff Party. This year's even took place last Friday and I asked if I could participate. They said yes, and I had a blast. I was proud of my little books, proud again of what I've written. That pride sort of dissipated over the years. I talked to everyone who showed up at my table, and as I packed up to go home, I had sold four books.

It's been a long time since I sold that many books at one signing. 

Maybe it's because I have two books written waiting to find a home. Maybe it's because it's been so long since I did a book signing. I don't know, but I do know I'm thankful for the opportunity, the chance to talk to people who love to read. I'm thankful for those who have supported my little hobby for the past ten-plus years and hopefully, for years to come. 

Last Friday...well, it felt like old times.

And Then There Were Two...

 Last Monday my parents's family gathered at the Farmington City Cemetery to honor those who has passed. We were missing three of my parents's grandchildren and their families, but the rest of us were there. It's one of our family traditions.

A tradition I love continuing.

I remember just before my mother died, she told her three children she didn't want us to fight. She wanted us to get along or she would come back and haunt us. Thankfully, she has not returned to fulfill her threat, at least, as far as we know. 

My brother, my sister, and I got a long well after my mother passed. We had some tough times, but we remained friends. And then, our sister passed away. She was the baby, the youngest of the three, and she was the first to leave.

Now, only two remain.

We gathered at the gravesite and caught up, swapped stories, and found out what everyone was doing. Then, photo time. Before my sister died, it was always the three of us as our spouses and children looked on. After our sister died, her daughter took her place, representing her family. That first Memorial Day without her...that was tough. 

Now, it's just my brother and I. I hope we can continue to take photos--just him and me--on Memorial Day for decades to come.