I was just thinking ...

2012

2012-01-18T20:24:00.002-06:00

Isn't this the year that, according to the Mayan calendar, the world is supposed to end? But that isn't until December, so I don't have to worry about this for a l-o-n-g time.

My resolution this year is not to make resolutions. My list of goals is always too long and my "resolve" doesn't last long enough. Instead, I will continue music lessons (even though my instructor INSISTS that I learn theory when I only want to learn to play songs). And I will work on de-cluttering and simplifying my surroundings to see if I can restore our house to some semblance of order. I have two eyes, two ears, two hands, and two feet. I must be wired to focus only on two things at a time.

I saw a funny Bizarro cartoon recently where the creator of the circular Mayan calendar on a large stone filled with etchings says to his friend, "I only had enough room to go up to 2012." His friend replies, "Ha! That'll freak somebody out someday." A Rubes comic has the calendar maker saying that he ran out of room on the rock. (Search online to find either comic.) If there is more to it than this, at least my house will be clutter-free when the world ends.

Technology

2012-01-02T14:57:00.003-06:00

I am being dragged kicking and screaming into the age of modern technology. Recently I inherited a smart phone from a co-worker who upgraded to a version more suitable for the international travel she does. I haven't figured out how to use this phone yet and suppose this will be a resolution for the new year.

I also installed a webcam on my computer in hopes of being able to do video calls with my grandchildren (oh, yes, and also my children). So far it appears that I can take still photos, but I don't yet know how to do the video component.

I may need to borrow a ten-year-old neighbor to show me how to use this technology.

Thankful for ...

2011-11-21T21:03:00.006-06:00

Thanksgiving is not the only time of year I am grateful for my many, many blessings. I recognize just how blessed I am in ways big and small. Today I am thinking about some "small" blessings in my life for which I am extremely grateful.

Hot running water. Each day when I shower I say a little prayer of thanks for hot running water. As a boy when I visited my grandparents' farm we took baths in a number two metal tub. We thought this was unique and exciting, but that was because it was a novelty rather than the routine. When we went back home I enjoyed bathing in a "real" tub, never appreciating how fortunate I was. Today I am grateful for hot showers whenever I want one.
Indoor plumbing. Can you even imagine using a chamber pot? We used an outhouse when visiting my Allen grandparents, with a Sears catalog for toilet paper. My Grandmother Oviatt had an inside bathroom, but we used this only in cold weather and only for our "number one" business. Otherwise, we used her outhouse. My mother tells how as a child she and her sisters used to wait until their father would go to the outhouse first on cold winter mornings. Once he was finished and the seat was defrosted, there was a mad rush to be next.

Electric appliances and lights. My gas and electric appliances offer great convenience in preparing meals, washing clothes and dishes, and keeping food cold and fresh. My grandparents cooked on coal stoves very similar to the one pictured here. Note the metal tool to lift the lids from the top of the stove without getting burned. The looped metal handle would be warm to the touch, but would not get hot enough to burn. And I am so grateful that I did not depend on candles or fuel lamps for light.

Sometime the small blessings are the greatest!

Some of life's important lessons

2011-11-20T19:10:00.002-06:00

When I entered the mission field, I had only the vaguest of ideas about how to serve as a missionary. I received a small missionary handbook with instructions I tried to follow faithfully, but really "learned by doing" until near the end of my service I finally felt I knew how to do the work I was finishing.

As a young social worker, I worked with troubled youth and taught parenting classes. My "book learning" did not make up for my lack of practical experience and, looking back, I clearly understand why my clients were skeptical of principles and techniques I offered them. Now that my own children are grown and gone with children of their own, I finally have a better idea of how to parent.

After three decades of marriage, I am getting the hang of being a good husband. Much wisdom has come with learning what not to do. With a little luck, Brenda will enjoy the benefits of what I have learned for a few more years before we are both gone.

I've heard it said that intelligence is learning from your own experiences while wisdom is learning from the experiences of others. I wonder how many are wise in this regard.

At any rate, here are some of life's important lessons I have learned.

It is easier to loosen the reins than to tighten them. I was a strict father, not because I wanted control over my children, but because I wanted them to be safe. Perhaps I did not get it right in determining how loose or tight to maintain the reins. But I did learn that trying to tighten loose reins was a real challenge.
Offense cannot be given, it can only be taken. No one can offend you without your assistance. We are offended not so much by what others say or do to us, but by what we tell ourselves about what they are doing and why they are doing it. Every instance of offense rests upon our own strongly held "should" or "should not." In a very real sense, we offend ourselves using the other person as the reason we do so. Others have no power over us to cause offense ... unless we cooperate with them. Does this mean I think that others never do insensitive, mean or cruel things? Of course not. But ours is the choice as to whether we are offended by such behavior. When we say to ourselves, "S/he makes me so mad," we are being neither accurate nor truthful.
When you try to change another person the only result that is guaranteed is that you will make two people unhappy - yourself and the other person. Why did it take me so long to learn this lesson? There is a very important difference between not putting up with unacceptable behavior and attempting to change another person. We do not have to put up with unacceptable behavior. But this does not require that we attempt to change others. Frankly, I don't think one person can change another. But I think one person can cause great unhappiness trying to change another, both for him/herself and for the the person s/he is trying to change.

Someone once told me of a great German saying, "Too soon old, and too late smart!" (It sounds better if you try to affect a strong German accent.) This is certainly true for me.

Love to Read

2011-11-19T01:27:00.002-06:00

Reading has always been my favorite hobby and my greatest source of learning and enjoyment. I really don't remember learning to read. I do remember in first grade my teacher, kindly white-haired Mrs. Carter, having us sit on the floor in a group around her while she held up flash cards with words printed on them in bold letters. As a class, we would call out together the words on the cards. I was surprised once when I was the only voice to be heard when she held up a card. Apparently it was a word she had not introduced to us previously, but I must have learned it in reading.

How I enjoyed going to the library as a boy. I can remember the sense of responsibility I felt when I got my first library card. The librarian impressed upon my mind the value of the books loaned to me, the care I must take not to damage them, and how responsible I must be to be sure the books were returned in good condition so others could enjoy them. She also made sure I understood the care I must take not to lose my library card.

When I discovered how books in the library were organized by topics, using the Dewey Decimal System, I was very impressed. What a wonderful way to organize knowledge! This really appealed to my orderly mind. So did the card catalog, which contained 3x5 cards listing information on every single book in the library. Obviously, this was long before the days of computers and online listings.

During school, periodically we were able to submit a book order. It seems that a portion of my allowance frequently went to purchase a precious book of my own. Recently in thrift stores I came across two of the titles I purchased in elementary school. One was a biography of Harry Houdini and the other, titled "Yellow Eyes," was the story of a cougar. I enjoyed re-reading both and was magically transported back to an earlier time. I kept these books and hope some day to share them with my grandchildren.

In the summer when school was out, I made regular trips to the library. My bicycle had a basket attached to the handlebars. The number of books that could be checked out at any one time was limited to ten. So every two weeks I would go to the library and find ten new books to bring home to read. This would usually fill the basket on my bicycle and, if the books were big and heavy, make it a bit of a challenge to steer. Rarely did I return in two weeks without having read all ten books.

Even as a youth I came across some favorite series. As one example, I was thrilled to discover the Wizard of Oz books by L. Frank Baum. (These were the Harry Potter books of their day.) I read every single title in the series ... and actually wept when I learned that the author was no longer living and realized there would be no more books in the series for me to read.

Even as a boy I went through phases in my reading interests: sports, dinosaurs, science fiction, mysteries. And I also had favorite authors: Robert Heinlein, Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, Mark Twain, Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, and many others.

I was fortunate not to get car sick while reading. Whenever we would go to visit my grandparents (a drive of two hours), I would make sure always to take something to read.

As a father, when we moved our family to Kansas and to Des Moines I made sure one of the first places we visited was the library. When my children were old enough, each got his or her own library card. I remain convinced that reading is a critically important skill for learning and developing the brain. And I believe that a love of reading is a very important attribute for all children to develop. I fear in today's electronic world a love of reading often falls by the wayside, which is unfortunate.

As a missionary and wanting to make productive use of my time, I would combine reading with brushing my teeth. Doing so allowed me to read two lengthy tomes by James E. Talmadge - "Jesus the Christ" and "The Articles of Faith" - a couple of pages at a time. Oh, and upon returning from serving my mission my dentist commented on the very good shape of my teeth.

I find that I get a little anxious if I find myself in a place with no reading material. While I love the heft and feel of an actual book, I suppose that some day I will succumb and ask Santa for an e-reader as a Christmas gift. While it won't be the same as actually holding a book and turning the pages, it certainly will make it easy to carry an assortment of books with me wherever I happen to be.

Good reading to all!

Office Move

2011-06-28T17:30:00.002-05:00

Last week I moved offices. In one sense this was not a big undertaking because I moved one row over and five rows down, probably a distance of fifty feet. In another sense this was a big deal because just as much preparation and packing is required for a move like this as for a move to another floor or another building.

A good thing about moving offices (or, more accurately, cubicles) is the chance to de-clutter, reorganize, and get a fresh start of sorts in a new/different space. In my case there is the added bonus of being moved from a cube in the middle of the building to a cube at the end of a row. In my new location I can see out the building window to the south overlooking a green field and the walking path that goes from our parking lot into a wooded area. The view and the exposure to natural light is a big improvement.

During the day I can watch people running or biking on the path. Sometimes I join them over the lunch hour for a walk to stretch my legs and clear my head. At dusk it is not uncommon to see deer emerge from the woods to feed in the field. As I exit the parking lot I will frequently stop and watch the deer until they get nervous at my gaze and drift away.

While this is not Walden Pond (and I am certainly not Thoreau), it is nevertheless a small piece of placid country in the midst of more congested (by comparison) city living, busy traffic, and hectic corporate working. I have no idea how long I am likely to work in this space, but will certainly enjoy each day I can look out the window ... and relax.

Twice the Fun

2011-03-24T21:01:00.003-05:00

What's worse than a root canal? How about a second root canal on the same tooth!

The crown my dentist put on my cracked tooth last year did not prevent the problem he predicted could occur (20% chance, he thought) and that, if it did, would require a root canal. So in January I visited an endodontist and underwent this procedure. I expected some swelling and pain, but thought this would go away relatively quickly.

However, the swelling never went all the way down and the pain never went entirely away. I went back to the endodontist once and he adjusted/reshaped the crown so I was not biting on it and causing trauma to the ligament or bone. After more weeks of "wait and see" it became apparent that the predicted healing was not taking place.

So today I went back to have the procedure repeated. I'm always concerned when a medical professional has a discussion with me that goes something like this (especially when my mouth is full of medication that is making my gums numb):

Dr. Nelson: "Well, if your tooth was cracked when the crown was put on, then re-doing this procedure might not take care of the problem. You may need to have the tooth removed and go with a bridge or an implant."

Me: "So it sounds like you don't think re-doing the root canal will solve the problem."

Dr. Nelson: "It might. We can try if that is what you think you would like to do. Or would you rather have me stop now and you can go back to your dentist?"

Me: "Let's see if I can remember what they taught me in dental school so I can make this decision."

Okay, I admit the conversation didn't take place in precisely the way I've represented it. But it did feel like I was being asked what I thought was the best thing to do. I know, I know ... the medical expert can only inform and advise, and the patient has to make the decision. But I expect an opinion, based on years of training and experience, about the best course of action -- not asking me what I think would be the best thing to do.

In the end Dr. Nelson convinced me that we should try the root canal again (at no charge). I'm a little skeptical after our discussion, but we'll hope for the best and be prepared for the next step if necessary. At least I know a good oral surgeon in our stake.

Blood, Sweat, and Fears

2011-03-14T21:23:00.004-05:00

When I was a graduate student in Salt Lake City I started donating blood platelets. At that time my primary motivation was financial. While it was NOT legal to pay for blood or blood products, it was permissible to pay donors for their time. More than 30 years later I continue to donate platelets though there is no longer any remuneration for one's time; my primary motivation is to help cancer patients.

Unlike donating whole blood, an apheresis donation involves both arms and takes about 90 minutes. (A one-arm process is available, but takes even longer.) The following images give some idea of the process, the machine used, and how I am situated when I donate ... except I have a portable DVD player on my lap watching a video.

The process of donating platelets is called apheresis. According to Merriam Webster, the definition of apheresis is "withdrawal of blood from a donor's body, removal of one or more blood components (as plasma, platelets, or white blood cells), and transfusion of the remaining blood back into the donor —called also pheresis. The origin of the word is from -apheresis (as in plasmapheresis) with the first known use in 1977.

One of the biggest problems with an apheresis donation is predictable -- for an hour and a half you cannot scratch where it itches. And you don't realize just how much your nose and face and head and neck itch until you can't scratch.

The other issue is more irksome than a problem. Usually you don't have time to finish watching a movie before the procedure is over. So unless you watch a movie you've seen previously or run home and watch the rest of the movie, you don't see the ending. But I'm pretty sure the good guys win. I hope the platelet recipients also win.

What is the time? "Tooth-hurty"

2011-02-26T20:15:00.002-06:00

What was supposed to happen after my recent root canal was a recovery period, followed by a visit to my dentist to have the temporary filling in my crown drilled out and replaced with a permanent filling. However, when I went back to Dr. Shay things did not go as planned.

Dr. Shay was able to drill out the temporary filling with no problem. But when he began inserting the permanent filling I flinched because of the pain. He paused and said, "You aren't supposed to be feeling anything." He inserted the filling material deeper -- and I came right up off the chair. "Ow!" I exclaimed. "Something is wrong. I've never had this happen before following a root canal," said Dr. Shay.

So it was back to the endodontist for what I thought would be a repeat of the earlier procedure. Fortunately, he decided to reshape the crown slightly to ensure there was no pressure and irritation when biting, and "wait and see" for a couple more weeks. This strategy seems to be paying off, as the swelling and pain is gradually subsiding. So it may simply be that I didn't allow enough recovery time before returning for the permanent filling.

It is a blessing to live in a time where we have such wonderful medical and dental care. In earlier times the options for dealing with the problem I have were undoubtedly very limited and involved a choice between suffering and pulling a tooth. Once infected, even such a "minor" problem could sometimes result in death.

I don't have to worry about infection because of the availability of modern antibiotics. Not only do these medicines help me, but they also help my dog, Tara. Recently I took Tara in to have her teeth cleaned. The vet sent me home with antibiotic pills for Tara as a safeguard to prevent any infection. I don't mind taking antibiotics, but Tara doesn't like hers. Initially I tried to get her to take the pill from my hand, but after tasting it once she refused to do so again. The second time I hid the pill in some bread and she ate it. But the taste must have been apparent, because the next time she ate the bread and spit out the pill. I finally found success by hiding the pill in bread and applying a layer of barbeque sauce, which did the trick.

Tara and I are both on the mend. I hope my next visit to the dentist is a "ful-filling" one.

Cold!

2011-02-10T18:16:00.002-06:00

In the Midwest we are tired of the frigid temperatures and bitter cold! Yes, the East coast has received more snow this year and are "enjoying" their own miserable winter similar to what we experienced last year. But I'm tired of the cold.

How cold is it? I'm glad you asked!

It’s colder than …

a cast iron commode on the shady side of an iceberg.
a well digger’s backside.
a mother-in-law’s kiss.
a banker’s heart.
the last man’s rear end on a toboggan.
a polar bear’s toenails.

It's so cold that ...

we had to chisel the dog off the fire hydrant.
your shadow freezes to the sidewalk.
you have to break the smoke off your chimney.
the lawyers have their hands in their own pockets.
if the thermometer was an inch longer I’d freeze to death.
if you suck on an ice cube it just gets bigger.
I climbed in the refrigerator to warm up.
Chuck Norris put on a jacket.
when we milked cows we got ice cream.
when I turned on the shower I got hail.
Scotsmen started wearing pants.
we had to defrost the fireplace before we could start a fire.
parents encouraged their kids to play with matches.
I saw an Amish man buying an electric blanket.
men use Tabasco sauce as aftershave.

Endodontics ... and the Mamas and Papas

2011-01-28T16:42:00.003-06:00

My new word for the day is Endodontics (from the Greek endo - "inside" - and odons - "tooth"), a branch of dentistry dealing with tooth pulp and the tissues surrounding the root of a tooth.

I am more familiar with the descriptive, but certainly less technical, term "root canal." Endodontics is not a word I care to learn, but a visit to the dentist today led both to an education and to an appointment Monday morning for an endodontic procedure.

In December I experienced pain in one of my teeth on the upper right side (tooth number 4, in dental jargon). Dr. Shay discovered that the tooth was cracked and recommended a crown. He told me that in about 80% of cases like mine the crown would be a sufficient repair with no further problems. In the remaining cases, additional treatment might be required.

For several weeks my crown has worked as advertised. However, a few weeks ago I noticed pain when chewing on the right side. No problem, I thought, I'll just chew on the left side and wait for the pain to subside. This strategy worked for a time, but earlier this week I started experiencing sporadic pain that didn't involve chewing. Once the pain started waking me up (and keeping me up) at night, I knew I would have to go back to see Dr. Shay.

An x-ray showed no problem with the tooth. However, a more sophisticated diagnostic tool and test (tapping firmly on my tooth with a hard metal instrument!) revealed that I was experiencing pain (!!!) in the tooth and would need to undergo a root canal. I thought Dr. Shay would perform this procedure, but learned from him that once a crown is in place the root canal is performed by an endodontist - a dental practitioner who specializes in (and does primarily only ) root canals.

This image shows an abscessed tooth, the root canal treatment (drilling, filing, and filling), and the crown.
In light of my appointment first thing next week, I'll end this post with selected lyrics from the song "Monday, Monday" by the Mamas and Papas:

Monday, Monday, can't trust that day
Monday, Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh Monday mornin' you gave me no warnin' of what was to be ...

Every other day, every other day
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes
you can find me cryin' all of the time

New Year's Evolution

2011-01-12T17:16:00.002-06:00

Not quite two weeks into the new year we have experienced another change with the birth of a new grandchild ... our family continues to evolve. Lindsey and Dustin welcomed a baby boy to join their son, Silas, and their foster daughter, Angela. I can't yet welcome this little one by name; that detail is pending. But I can express my gratitude for a safe delivery, a normal baby, a healthy mother, and a proud father.

Nothing is quite so miraculous as the birth of a child. For some this is a biological wonder ... and for others there is an added spiritual miracle that takes place when a child of Heavenly Father crosses the veil to enter mortality. Nothing is ever quite the same after a child is born. Nothing is ever quite so easy and nothing is ever quite so rewarding.

If we calculate the cost of raising a child, we can hardly justify having more than one or two. But when we take into account the blessings, we come to understand that the greatest rewards are not reflected in a financial calculation or balance sheet.

At one time or another each of my children with kids of their own has asked, "Dad, how did you and Mom raise five children? How did you do it?" Typically this question is asked amidst some trial or affliction, during an illness or difficult day. My honest answer is that Mom and I hardly knew what we were doing or what raising one child would entail, let alone five. We stepped out in faith, confident that we would receive help and blessings along the way.

My parenting path includes happiness and heartache, laughter and loss, delight and despair, wonder and worry. I know my children face a very similar path, but in a world that is increasingly challenging. I pray that my children will be blessed with offspring as wonderful as mine. And I'm confident that they will be wonderful parents. Someday their own children will likely be asking them, "Mom and Dad, how did you raise us?" How did you do it?" And they will smile and wonder at the answer themselves.

Parenting Perils

2010-12-05T12:13:00.002-06:00

Parenting after your own children are grown and gone is a real challenge. What does it mean to “parent” adults who in many cases are themselves parents? How is parenting dependent children or quasi-independent teens different from parenting independent adults? Is such parenting even welcome or wanted? If so, when or under what circumstances?

I don’t have answers to these questions. I know others, including some LDS authors, have written about this topic. I haven’t read any of these books. And I don’t know if I plan to do so any time soon. Other authors have written about grandparenting. I haven’t read these books, either. I can’t help but think I could have more impact and positive influence as a grandparent if I lived near my grandchildren. This is something I would love to do, but it doesn’t seem to be in the cards any time soon. For now I must be content with sending cards or letters each month and visiting when I can.

I know some aspects about adult parenting that are very hard. First and foremost is watching my children struggle and, in some cases, suffer. Gone are the days when I could “make things all better” for my children when they ran into the house crying with a scraped knee or owie. The adage “little kids, little problems – big kids, big problems” certainly seems true at times.

I know there is value in struggling and that growth occurs from overcoming trials and adversity. I’m clear that we are in mortality to be tested and tried, and to learn from our experiences. That knowledge doesn’t stop me from wanting to ease the burden for my children, especially when the challenges appear to be so great that I don’t see the opportunities for growth and learning.

I have to remind myself that I am to God as a toddler is to me in understanding, maturity, patience, wisdom, faith, and so on. Trusting in God’s way and timing is truly an exercise of faith and patience. I pray for my children and their families constantly. That is easy. I also, when praying, ask for guidance on what I can do to help my children. Knowing the answers to that question is much more difficult.

Another challenge in adult parenting is knowing what NOT to say and when NOT to say it. It is true that wisdom comes with experience, age, and perspective. It is also true that most people don’t learn from the wisdom of others as well as they do through their own experiences. For example, it took me nearly three decades to learn that when you try to change another person the only thing you do is make two people unhappy – that person and yourself. Each and every time I try to change someone else I succeed only in creating unhappiness. But how do you pass along a lesson like that? Can it even be understood or “learned” except by personal struggle and experience? Suffice it to say that my tongue is much tougher than it once was from having bitten it so many times!

Another challenge is being connected. Children have their own lives and are busy with the tasks and chores of everyday living. As a result, I know far less about the lives of my children than I once did. I am very grateful for all the modern conveniences that make it so easy to stay connected. This has not always been the case. Long distance phone calls were prohibitively expensive when I was a child. Usually, receiving a long distance call meant a death or serious illness/accident in the family. Today such calls are virtually free. And we have blogs, social media, texting, email, web cams, etc., making staying connected easier than it ever has been.

Ironically, the very availability and ease of these tools may not always translate into connectedness. Because we CAN connect doesn’t always mean that we DO connect … at least, not as often as parents (especially long distance parents) might desire. And this is the rub. I certainly can make calls or send emails whenever I want. But how much connection is good? One of the things that make calls and visits so special is that they are not everyday occurrences. Ideally I would live close enough to my children and their families to drive by their residences frequently, see the children outside playing, and stop to say hello. That arrangement is increasingly rare in today’s world. I'm very lucky that my children use a variety of means to keep connected with me. I receive phone calls and can view photos posted online. I love receiving funny and unexpected text messages. I keep up with daily life through social media pages. Though I live very far away from my grandchildren, I am not disconnected from them.

Later this month we hope to visit Utah to celebrate Christmas with most of my children and all of my grandchildren. I am so excited to see everyone again and to participate in the magic of the Christmas season. So for a few days I will get to be a close up and hands on Poopa. What a wonderful Christmas gift for me!

Getting Too #*%^&! Old

2010-11-28T11:41:00.005-06:00

I first started playing basketball when I was 11 years old, having moved to South Jordan and entered West Jordan Junior High School (the "Shamrocks" ... yes, the fighting Shamrocks!). I was involved in helping my PE teacher do some research on what must have been a thesis for his Master's Degree. This entailed visiting a number of schools and conducting tests on those trying out for their teams. So I would use a stopwatch and time players as they ran through a series of skills exercises. I'm not clear on the hypothesis for the research and never was all that interested in the results. But I did get hooked on basketball. Unfortunately, I was not particularly skilled and also was not in good physical shape. When I first started running up and down the court I would get so light headed that I thought I was going to faint. I was glad to get past that stage fairly quickly and develop the stamina and wind that allowed me to play.

Today there are organized basketball leagues starting at very young ages. At that time we had little league baseball and football, but there was no opportunity to play basketball outside of pickup games with friends in the driveway. I dreamed of being good enough to play at the highest level, but obviously that was not in the cards for someone with my stature and skills. I did make the high school team my first (sophomore) year, but was not as skilled as most of the other players who had been on the Junior High team. Church basketball provided another outlet for competition and some wonderful opportunities, including playing on a team with former high school players that won the All Church Tournament championship game (Junior Division) the last year this contest was held. What a thrill that was!

Fast forward forty years -- I am still playing basketball Saturday mornings at the church, mostly with people 20-30 years younger. I have certainly lost a step, but still can play at a respectable level. However, every so often I sustain an injury that has Brenda questioning my sanity. Earlier this year I lost a toenail when another player landed hard on my foot. And yesterday I landed on another player's foot and sprained my ankle.

These images show how a sprain occurs and the results. The photo is not of my ankle, but this is what my ankle looks like today. I suspect that later this week the bruising will be very colorful. While I'm not surprised to sprain an ankle, I am disheartened by how long healing seems to take now. My aging body wonders why I am still playing a young man's game and is encouraging me to think about retiring!

Extreme Home Makeover

2010-11-01T19:50:00.009-05:00

Before ... and after

Hunting Season

2010-10-27T20:57:00.003-05:00

Recently I ran across an old album featuring some of the “cowboy music” my father enjoyed in the early 1960s. Because of the wonder of modern technology, now it is possible to find recordings of many of these old songs online.

One song still makes me nostalgic for those days, a novelty song called “I Won’t Go Huntin' With You, Jake (But I’ll Go Chasin' Women).” Yes, country titles are sometimes more entertaining than the songs themselves. But I have fond memories of this particular song because of a story relating to it.

This version was recorded by Jimmy Dean in 1962 when I was 7 or 8 years old. I used to listen over and over again trying to learn the words so I could sing along. But there was one phrase I didn’t understand. “… them gals wear clothes that we ain’t seen beneath them gingham gowns!” When I asked my Mom to explain what those words meant she was embarrassed and initially refused to tell me. Finally I think she mentioned something about women’s underwear – that was all I cared to know. (Remember, these were the days when my Grandmother Oviatt would not utter the word “pregnant.” The proper language was to say that someone was expecting or was “PG.”)

It is funny how this song – and the memory of that story – has remained with me all these years. I’m including a link to an audio recording of the version I listened to as a child and hope you enjoy it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J6Uq5VHGuPA&feature=related

Vandalism

2010-10-25T21:22:00.004-05:00

Saturday afternoon I received a phone call informing me that someone had vandalized our church building and asking for help cleaning up. I was very surprised ... things like this just don't happen in our town. Initially I was concerned that this might have been done by someone with an axe to grind against the church for a real or perceived slight, or as a reaction to church involvement in sensitive political/social/moral issues. I even felt somewhat unsafe as I thought about how easy it would be to gain entry into the building and cause extensive damage. (Apparently our building was unlocked following an activity earlier in the day.)

When I reached the church I learned that the vandalism was carried out by a young man who apparently struggles with some psychological or emotional issues. The damage included broken glass, damaged artwork, an overturned piano, splotches of blood, and some smoke and fire residue (the fires were small paper fires and not very significant). The man also apparently drank some cleaning fluid from a custodial closet and vomited in the building. A member of our bishopric actually caught the man inside the building. Fortunately, no one was hurt (except for some cuts the man sustained) and we were able to clean up enough to hold church services the next day.

Vandalism is never okay. I am sorry this happened. And I am even more sorry that this young man (not a member of the church and with no apparent agenda directed against us) reached a point in his life where this occurred. I offered up a prayer of thanks that our building was not heavily damaged and also a prayer in behalf of this young man.

Eat, drink, and be merry ...

2010-10-25T21:12:00.003-05:00

Mom and I started something we’ve never before done together when we began a weight loss program today. No, we weren’t selected to appear on The Biggest Loser! We joined a program offered through my employer. Not surprisingly, the very common sense approach is based on eating more nutritious and filling foods, managing portion sizes, exercising (which might not be possible for Mom, given her poor health), and ensuring that calorie intake is less than what is expended. Hopefully, by joining forces and doing this together we can help each other succeed.

There really is no magic bullet to fitness and maintaining a healthy weight. I am amazed at how high “average weight” has climbed in my lifetime. I read recently that one of the reasons for the government starting school lunch programs following World War II was because there were too many military recruits who did not meet the minimum weight requirements to serve in the armed forces. I don’t know if that story is true; if so, it is a sad commentary on our physical fitness today. I’m quite confident that our problem as a nation is not thyroid problems or slow metabolisms as much as it is poor nutrition and lack of exercise.

When I was a boy I thought that when you grew up you stopped liking candy. The reason for this is that my mother seldom ate candy and didn’t seem to like it. So I believed that when you reached adulthood some hideous transformation took place and you started liking vegetables and hating candy. When I asked my Mom about this, she said that as a child she rarely had candy … except for horehound candy, which doesn’t taste all that great. And no wonder – horehound was used to soothe sore throats. What kind of candy is also a medicine? Horehound even looks like a cough drop! http://www.ehow.com/about_5042766_horehound-candy.html

Today we are literally surrounded by unhealthy, prepared, sugar-laden food and treats. Our children were allowed candy once during the week, our “Saturday treat” tradition. This was started out of self-defense because the older children asked for candy every time we went to the store. Fortunately, we were able to convince them that Saturday treat was the eleventh commandment and they did not challenge us (until they were older).

On our new nutrition program, perhaps Mom and I will go back to Saturday treats ... but not to hourhound!

It's a dirty job, but somebody has to do it

2010-10-22T22:14:00.002-05:00

The siding is installed on the house, but the work is not completed. I am fighting a race against rain, trying to replace the dirt I removed along the foundation so the painting could be done. I dug down several inches to make sure the paint would extend below the soil line. This left a trench several inches deep all around the house ... a perfect place for water to collect and run down the foundation looking for any little crack to seep into the basement.

When I removed the soil I placed it in the garden plot, where it has been sitting for three weeks. Because we have enjoyed such dry weather, the soil has hardened. Before replacing it, I have tilled the pile of dirt several times to break down all the large clots.

I hoped the dry weather would last, but the forecast calls for rain tomorrow and perhaps again on Tuesday. Last night I provided day care for the Relief Society get together and tomorrow Brenda and I are going to Omaha, so tonight I worked until it was too dark to see. I did get the soil replaced around all three sides of the house with basement windows, which is where water has found its way into the basement previously. Hopefully this will be sufficient protection against the rain.

We've been very fortunate to enjoy such mild weather this late in the season. Last year we already had experienced snow by this time. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that when it rains the next few days the precipitation won't turn into the white stuff!

Judging a house by its cover

2010-10-14T20:15:00.006-05:00

Yes, as a matter of fact I think we WERE overdue for new siding! In some places our old siding was as soft as a wet sponge and would literally crumble away in our hands. Clearly, we were beyong the point of repainting this siding as we did twice previously.

The old siding was VERY stained in many places. Also, you may be able to tell where the downspout was removed just above the steps the difference in the color of the paint behind the downspout and how much the rest of the house has faded over the years.

I didn't make it easy for our installers by removing the deck boards! But I wanted to be sure that the siding was installed properly and that I would not have any problems replacing deck boards once the siding is in place. Here Mike is making do with what I left him. You can see the old deck boards sitting atop the deck supports. This is NOT an OSHA approved workplace, I'm sure!

It's a wrap!

2010-10-14T20:07:00.002-05:00

Before the new siding goes on, the house is wrapped in a reflective material that is a moisture barrier. It also provides a minimal amount of insulating factor. On the back of the siding is a thick foam layer, which provides most of the insulation and a cushion to protect the siding against damage.

After a summer with much higher than normal precipitation, we enjoyed very nice weather (except for one day when Mike and Dustin got drenched). So the reflection of the sunlight actually made wrapping the house a hot, sweaty job.

And I helped!

2010-10-14T19:58:00.004-05:00

As you can see, Tara and I are an indispensable part of this project in that we supervise, inspect, and approve the work. My job is to stand in the back yard and tell the installers what a good job they are doing and how great the new siding looks. (And I guess my other job is to write a gigantic check when they are finished.) Tara's job is to safeguard equipment and supplies, protect against intruders, and lick to death the installers every day when they arrive and again before they depart.

Here is a half-and-half view contrasting the new and old siding. Guess which looks better?

Not a tornado, just a home improvement project.

2010-10-14T19:47:00.006-05:00

This is not a photo of our house (though our old siding didn't look much better than this)! Half our driveway is taken up with a dumpster that is filled to the top with debris from our house ... all the old siding, gutters and downspouts, deck boards, and various odds and ends. The sides of this medium-sized dumpster (the large one apparently wasn't available) are six feet tall.

As you can see, the back yard is the staging center for all the equipment and supplies. What you see here is only a small portion of what is actually there.

Extreme Home Makeover

2010-10-14T19:35:00.004-05:00

For the last week and a half our house has been undergoing a transformation as new siding is installed. Brenda has been taking lots of photos. I will share a few for a sense of just how great a change this is for us.

Here is a photo of the rear view of our house. The deck boards have been removed for convenience in replacing the siding. The old narrow step has been replaced with a new step that runs the length of the deck, making it much easier for Brenda to get up and down. Also you can see that the lower foundation is painted to match the new siding.

This photo shows Mike and Dustin, our installers, putting up the new siding. They have wrapped the lower part of the house and the new siding is going on. They started on the south side of the house and then moved to the back, the north side, and will finish with the front.

And now, Move That Bus!

Here is the finished view of the west side of the house. What a transformation!

One year later ...

2010-10-13T20:51:00.003-05:00

One year ago we lost Laura. It is hard to believe it has been a year. And it is still very difficult to believe she is gone.

I miss Laura a great deal. And I am sorry that she suffered so and reached the point where she felt she had no other option than to end her life.

The last year has been full of pain and second guessing. I still feel very vulnerable and fragile. And I don't think I will ever feel normal again.

But I am glad, even with all the pain.

I'm glad I had the opportunity to know Laura. I feel very privileged to have been her father. I'm thankful for Laura's wonderful sense of humor and how she could one-up me with jokes better than mine. I'm very glad to have had Laura's music in my life. I'm grateful for precious memories of having Laura accompany me on the piano while I sang. I'm thankful for daddy-daughter dates we enjoyed, particularly the times we would succumb to the temptation of decadent chocolate desserts even though we promised ourselves we wouldn't. I have very fond memories of "wing and rings" lunches at the North End Diner. I am very grateful for many good memories.

Most of all, I am glad that Laura is no longer suffering like she did here. I love you, Laura. I'm sorry I couldn't help you overcome your fears and depression. I hope things are better now. And I pray for you continually. ~Poopa

How firm a foundation ...

2010-10-03T20:52:00.003-05:00

Tomorrow the contractor will arrive to begin installing our new siding. Because we are changing colors, the concrete foundation of our house will be painted to match the color of the siding. You may remember that the concrete in our foundation is shaped to look like bricks, complete with a rough texture or finish.

I spent the last couple of days removing several inches of soil next to the foundation to make sure the new paint will be applied below the soil line. And I used a stiff brush to wash away as much of the soil as possible so the concrete is clean and ready for painting.

This was too much like work to suit me. I felt like Tom Sawyer facing his tall board fence with a whitewash brush in hand. While washing the concrete wasn't punishment for me as was Tom's whitewashing chore, I dreaded my work as much as Tom did his. But no friends wandered by to jeer, only to trade various treasures for the opportunity to be one of the few Tom would trust to help whitewash the fence facing the street where everyone could see the results.

Tom learned a great truth, "that Work consists of whatever a body is obliged to do, and that Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do." In gospel terms, we have the choice to act or to be acted upon. I could have left the foundation dirty and hoped the contractor would do a good job of preparation. However, now I know the foundation is ready to go. And if the foundation is firmly clean, whatever is put on it should stick and last.

General Conference tradition

2010-10-02T22:21:00.004-05:00

In the Internet age I can watch General Conference on my computer in the comfort of my own home. More accurately, I can watch most of the conference sessions. The Saturday evening Priesthood session cannot be seen online, but only at the chapel.

I don't mind going to the chapel for this session. This is part of the tradition I established with Ben and Brian. But the best part of the tradition was stopping at Baskin-Robbins on the way home for ice cream.

Once I tried yogurt at TCBY, but it just wasn't the same. And even though the boys are gone, I carry on the tradition of ice cream following the priesthood session of conference ... a single scoop hot fudge sundae with nutty coconut ice cream, chopped nuts, and whipped cream -- but no cherry!

Monday, Monday ... so good to me

2010-09-30T21:58:00.003-05:00

Today I received a call from our contractor informing us that they want to drop off tools at our house tomorrow and start our siding replacement project on Monday! This is much sooner than we expected, so I have a LOT of work to do Saturday to get ready.

I will be very glad to get this work done. The siding on our house now has been painted twice and is beyond painting again because it is literally spongy and crumbling. I am looking forward to having a (nearly) maintenance free exterior.

The second time we had our house exterior painted we hired our neighbor Ron Trobaugh to do the work. I still remember that the day he started painting he called me at work to ask if I was really sure I wanted to go ahead with such a bright yellow color. When I drove home to look I confess I was startled at just how bright the yellow paint looked on the house; it didn't appear to be that bright on the color chip. I told him to go ahead because I knew that over time the yellow would fade to a less bright shade. Sure enough, in a couple of years the color was much closer to what we wanted.

While I like the current color of our house, unfortunately yellow really shows dirt. The siding we have now is permanently stained from water that has run off the dark roof shingles. The new siding that has a color fast guarantee and will be replaced at no charge if the color fades. And the Cypress color should do a much better job of hiding dirt and grime.

It will be strange to change house colors after nearly twenty years. I wonder how many times I will drive past the house because my brain is looking for yellow.

Parting is such sweet sorrow ...

2010-09-29T21:59:00.002-05:00

Brian came by tonight for what may be the last time before he and Laura move to California on October 1. I have mixed feelings … sorry to see them go and at the same time excited for them to have this opportunity. This has come together very quickly for them. But they are pretty much ready to go and already found a place to live in Santa Monica. I do not envy them the drive from Des Moines to California.

As a missionary, I served for a short time in Orange County, California. One of the refugee families I helped resettle lived in Santa Monica. I remember being overwhelmed by the crowded area and congested roads. But I also remember great weather and fabulous people. I think anywhere you live has advantages and disadvantages. And, as always, what you experience is more about what is inside you than what is around you.

I am reading a wonderful book written by Harold Kushner, “When All You’ve Wanted Isn’t Enough.” He gives an example of a man who was so concerned about “moving up” and “winning” in his profession that he became dissatisfied, jealous, and lonely. But a significant change took place, resulting in the man becoming happy, loving, and caring. And what was the change? Kushner writes, “Nothing around him has changed but something inside him has changed, and he can look forward to his remaining years … as being productive and satisfying ones.”

The inside change is, I’m convinced, the biggest factor in how we experience life. I’m not so naïve as to think that there aren’t selfish, bad people in the world. And I am certainly aware that terrible things happen. But we are here to act and not to be acted upon by our circumstances or surroundings. When we have no choice or control about the things that happen to us, we always have a choice about how we view those things and respond to them.

Good luck, Brian and Laura. May you travel safely and enjoy the next stage of your life in a new place.

The Rain in Spain falls Mainly in Des Moines

2010-09-25T12:01:00.001-05:00

It is raining today – again. This is certainly in keeping with the wetter-than-normal summer we have experienced this year. Remember 1993, the year of the terrible flooding, when it rained practically every day all spring and summer? This year isn’t quite that bad, but it certainly has that feel. According to the official state records, 2010 “ranks as the 19th warmest and 2nd wettest summer among 138 years of records.” http://www.iowaagriculture.gov/climatology/weatherSummary.asp

Last year we replaced two basement window wells with an improved design to eliminate the problem we had of the drain pipe backing up and leaking water through the window into the basement. Now there is no longer a drain pipe in the window wells and we have a much better seal around the windows. This week we replaced the third and final window well. So we shouldn’t see that problem again.

Fall is a funny time for weather in Iowa. Yesterday we ran the air conditioner as the house heated up in the afternoon. Today we are running the furnace because it is quite chilly today. Summer is definitely waning and it won’t be long before we are shoveling snow. I hope we get the siding installed and the deck boards put back on before the snow starts to fall!

Calling and Selection ... Are You Sure?

2010-09-20T19:14:00.002-05:00

Recently Bishop Helton pulled me aside in the hall at church. With Jay, you can never tell if he is going to talk basketball, ask about the family, or extend a church calling. In this case, it was door number three. He informed me that he planned to extend a particular calling in the near future.

I waited for several weeks without hearing any more, but wasn’t concerned because I know that sometimes these things take time. Then a couple of weeks ago the bishop’s secretary called to ask me to meet with Bishop Helton. I thought this was to make things official for the call Jay had mentioned, but was surprised to learn that the bishop had something else in mind for me. He explained that some changes in the stake and ward caused him to rethink the original assignment and instead extend a call to teach the Gospel Doctrine class in Sunday School.

I was substitute teacher for this class recently and did not suspect at the time that the lesson I taught that day was a warm-up for teaching each week. This year the course of study is the Old Testament. I am taking over as we begin to study the record of Isaiah.

I have read the Old Testament several times and know what a challenge it can be to digest and understand the writings of the prophets. I am looking forward to the challenge and hope Bishop Helton’s confidence in me is not misplaced.

All hands on ... deck?

2010-09-16T21:19:00.003-05:00

When stepping out our back door, one must be very careful. Why? Because the deck boards are off waiting for new siding to be installed.

Here is the view of what used to be our deck. I have the new top boards in the garage, but won't install them until the new siding is in place.

Just a trim, please

2010-09-16T21:16:00.003-05:00

This is why Brenda doesn't like me to trim trees ... and why I wait until she is gone to do so!

Madame Butterfly

2010-09-16T21:03:00.003-05:00

Brenda and I have been feeding two caterpillars for a few weeks. They grew from tiny spots to large specimens a couple of inches long. The day before we left for Utah, I told Brenda I would have to let the caterpillars loose because we wouldn't be home to feed them. But the next morning I was surprised to find they both were spinning coccoons.

I hoped they would keep until Brenda returned this weekend. But this morning I noticed the chrysalises turned a dark color. And when I came home for lunch today I found two butterflies in the container.

I put them outside so they could dry their wings in the slight breeze and managed to get some photos before they flew away. Brenda, here are your Monarch butterflies!

Especially for Emily

2010-09-16T20:12:00.008-05:00

At my advanced age I still play basketball. It is one of the few forms of exercise I enjoy and I find that it is good not only for my body, but also for clearing my mind and reducing stress.

But sometimes it isn't good for my toes. Recently a player who jumped high for a rebound landed hard on my toe. As soon as I got home I was quite certain I would lose my nail. Sure enough, my nail detached from the base and filled with fluid. I drained my toe several time over the next few days until finally I got some relief when the nail came off.

My daughter in law, Emily, is rather squeamish about toe trauma. So I dedicate these photos to her! :)

New (cough, cough) bathrooms

2010-09-16T16:33:00.000-05:00

Today I had a contractor refinish the tub and shower in our bathrooms. This completes the remodeling work in those rooms I started two and a half years ago. Hey, I may not be good but at least I’m slow! When this work is finished tomorrow, our bathrooms will be the nicest rooms in the house.

I decided on refinishing because it is much faster and only a fraction of the cost of tearing out the old fixtures and replacing them with new ones. As an added bonus, the color now matches the new toilets. I am pleased with the result; it looks like a page out of “Better Bathrooms and Gardens.”

One downside is the pungent odor from the bonding and refinishing agents used. It was good to have this work done while Brenda was away. Otherwise, the smell undoubtedly would have triggered a migraine headache or a bout of asthma. Currently I have doors and windows open (and am wearing a sweatshirt) with floor fans running to circulate the air and hopefully exhaust the fumes as quickly as possible. Tara is sneezing to let me know she is not pleased. But she is welcome to spend some time in the back yard barking at the backhoe that is demolishing the condominium complex behind us. This is the building that burned so fiercely a few weeks ago. Almost half the building came down yesterday and it appears that in a day or two it will be entirely razed. I’m glad I’m finishing up, not starting over.

Progress?

2010-09-14T17:52:00.000-05:00

Not all progress is good.

Today I had a new furnace installed. It is about half the size of the old furnace and far more efficient. Over time, it will certainly pay for itself. So our utility bill will be lower, I have greater peace of mind because I won’t worry losing heat in the middle of a blizzard, and the installation went smoothly. Perfect, right?

Not exactly. A new programmable thermostat came with the furnace, so this was also installed. I like my old thermostat. I had misgivings when I was given a 24 page instruction booklet for the new thermostat. 24 pages! I don’t think I even had an instruction booklet for my old thermostat. I didn’t need one because there were only three switches – one to turn the fan on or have it come on automatically; a second one to activate the furnace or air conditioner; and a third to change the temperature setting. These three switches did everything I wanted and the thermostat was intuitive and simple to use.

With the new thermostat there are all kinds of settings … time, date, temperature settings for morning, day and night, more settings for weekdays and weekends, a setting to override the programmed settings (either temporarily or permanently) and allow manual adjustments, system settings to allow the temperature to control the furnace or air conditioner, a recovery mode indicator (whatever that means), a low battery indicator, and probably more.

I haven’t figured out how to use this new thermostat. I’m not sure I want to. I’m not even sure I can. I want my old thermostat back.

While the cat's away ...

2010-09-13T20:45:00.003-05:00

This mouse is playing. Well, okay, working. Brenda is in Utah visiting most of our children and all of our grandchildren. I was the chauffeur and drove her there over the long Labor Day weekend. Since returning home the day after the Monday holiday I have been trying to accomplish many things on my “to do” list before she comes home.

For example, I have arranged for companies and contractors to come in and do some long-needed work on the house. Today one fellow installed a new lock on our sliding patio door. We considered installing a new door, but in the end I decided refurbishing our good Andersen door made better sense than trading down to a newer, but probably less well-built, door. After more parts come in, he will be back to replace rollers and a weather seal. Our door will be like new, but at a fraction of the price.

Tomorrow I will be inundated with workers. In the morning I am having a new high efficiency furnace installed. For the last three years I have been “warned” by service technicians to think about replacing our furnace before it gave up the ghost. Because it kept working, I held off. But the tax credit available this year is a tremendous incentive to upgrade. My next door neighbor, Steve, will inherit our furnace for his shop. He’s been looking for one since his quit working and I’m happy to let him have ours … he’s helped us in so very many ways.

After work I’m meeting with the company that replaced two of our three basement window wells last spring when we had trouble with water backing up and coming into the basement through the window. We have one more window well to replace on the north side of the house and I want to get this done before new siding is installed.

I also have an electrician coming over in the evening to install several GFI receptacles, add a switchbox in our downstairs storage room, and bring some amateur wiring up to code. This man is a member of our ward who previously has helped us with electrical work. Each time he refused to accept payment and suggested I make a donation to the ward in the amount I would have paid him. I told him I wouldn’t have him do any more work for me unless he would be paid for it. He just smiled, so I’m not sure what to expect.

I scheduled some work in our bathrooms for Thursday and Friday. Over the years our tub has been chipped in several places as a result of items being dropped during showers. Also, a few years ago the handrail in the side first became loose and then came out entirely, damaging the tub surround in the process. In the other bathroom, our shower has several holes along the edges where the glass shower door once was attached. I’m replacing the shower door, which always leaked and I could never keep clean (I really HATE bathroom mildew and mold!), with a shower curtain. So the chips and holes need to be repaired, then both tub and shower will be refinished. I am also having installed a large, heavy duty hand rail to help Brenda get in and out of the tub safely.

Now, it sounds like I am hiring all my chores done and not doing any actual work myself. This is not all that far from the truth, but I am doing SOME work on my own. Last weekend I mounted my ladder and with trusty reciprocating saw in hand trimmed many branches from the tree in our front yard and from two trees in back. This is especially important to do while Brenda is gone, because we have different definitions of what “trim” means. Actually, it was pretty clear how much needed to be done because I have to get overgrown branches away from the house and roof before new siding and gutters are installed next month. We had reached the point where our fierce storms caused branches to scrape our walls, windows, and roof, and where gutters in front and back regularly became clogged with falling leaves and twigs. I didn’t cut away as much as I thought should be done, but probably took more than Brenda would have allowed. Still, I think the trees look better. Once Brenda gets over the initial shock, I think she will agree.

Finally, I braved the basement long enough to move boxes from the guest room and set up our old bed. Now I have a cool place for naps in the heat of the summer. When Brenda comes home we will work on sorting through all the boxes to see how much stuff we DON’T need anymore. There is still a lot of work to be done to recover from the flood earlier this year, but we are making (slow) progress. Like I always taught my children, I'm not as worried about velocity as I am direction. Someday we'll get the basement put back together.

The Money Pit

2010-08-30T21:47:00.002-05:00

We moved to Iowa in 1991. When we purchased our house, I imagined we would live in it 6-7 years and then move. However, events took a different course and this summer marks 19 years since we established our residence here. In the last couple of years we have moved beyond routine home maintenance to some major repair and replacement projects.

We replaced our water heater, air conditioner, and garage door and opener within the last 2-3 years. We also remodeled both upstairs bathrooms with new paint, ceiling fans, medicine cabinets, floor tile, and toilets.

Last year we installed a brick patio in the back yard for Brenda, creating a little oasis where she can sit on a yard swing in the shade and take photos of the animals and birds she feeds.

This spring we dealt with basement flooding caused by a failed sump pump and had new carpet, carpet pad, trim, and doors installed downstairs. And this month we had installed atop the insulation in our attic an aluminum energy saving barrier that will hopefully save money and also regulate the fluctuating temperature inside our house.

Next is the biggest improvement project of all. We are replacing the siding on our house, the top boards on both the front and back decks, and installing a new energy efficient furnace – all at one time! What are we thinking?

After talking to a few vendors for siding projects – and getting past the initial sticker shock of the estimates we received – we decided on a company with whom to work. Then we faced the really difficult decision, which was deciding on a color. Initially we thought we would stay with something like our current yellow, though a more muted Wheat color. But when we looked at some houses with this siding we noticed they showed dirt and grime more than did darker, more neutral colors. And Mom decided that she has lived in far too many yellow houses. So she has been deliberating between two colors, Clay and Cypress.

A house identical to ours just down the street has the Clay siding, so we have been able to view this in all light and cloudy conditions. I think that Mom leans toward Cypress, however, so that is probably what we will choose. I’m so color blind that I can hardly tell the difference between the colors and didn’t realize that Cypress has a subtle green hue. (You can see these colors online at http://crainsiding.net/ by selecting "Launch the Interactive Style Tool" and choosing Cypress siding – though this color looks a brighter shade of green online than it does installed.) Tomorrow we should finalize our order and schedule the installation.

More to follow …

Getting to the bottom of things with Tara

2010-01-17T18:55:00.004-06:00

We made an unplanned trip to the veterinarian because Tara was having some problems. I thought perhaps she had intestinal worms because she was licking her back side and scooting across the floor. When I was a boy and our dogs got worms we didn't take them to the vet; my Dad would simply feed them cigarettes . The tobacco was a tried and true de-wormer remedy handed down from generation to generation.

As it turns out, the problem was not worms but a burst anal gland. Anal gland? I'd never heard of such a thing. It was no consolation when the vet said that this problem is unusual in a dog so young. It was also no consolation when he said that once a dog has this problem it can happen again.

So we left Tara at the clinic overnight so Dr. Johnson could repair the burst gland. And as long as Tara was anesthetized we had her teeth cleaned, also (don't ask why a dog has to be put under to clean its teeth).

Now Tara is back home, but she has a drain on her backside to allow healing from the inside out. Twice a day we have to wash her wound, clean the drain, and move it back and forth to promote healing. Needless to say, this is not something Tara enjoys. Nor is it something I enjoy, for that matter. I will spare you the details about what exactly I have to do to clean the drain and apply medicine, but will say that it takes two of us to hold Tara still enough for this to happen.

And Tara has to wear a cone to keep her from licking the gland as it heals. I don't have a photo of Tara, but here is a photo that gives a sense of what she is wearing. Tara HATES her cone. Twice she tore off the cone, but now seems resigned to wearing it. The healing will take 10-14 days if everything works well. In the meantime, I remove the cone when I let Tara outside to do her duty and when I take her for walks. Otherwise, this is her newest fashion accessory.

Global Warming, Local Cooling

2010-01-02T19:34:00.002-06:00

Des Moines is currently in the deep freeze with a severe cold front settling in the area for a time. The temperatures are bitterly cold. Yesterday I took Mom to an appointment with her doctor and the frigid air triggered a serious bout of asthma. For the first time in many months Mom has had to use her nebulizer machine to clear her airways and help her breathe. Scary!

So now Mom is remaining inside ... and going just a little bit stir crazy. She would like to get outside, but is still pretty ill and dares not risk another asthma attack. When I was running an errand this afternoon I heard the weather forecast on the radio. The current temperature was minus six degrees and the wind chill made it feel like minus 23 degrees.

Des Moines just completed the second snowiest December on record. The city has already expended more than one third of the snow removal budget for the entire winter season. I suppose we are fortunate in that our last nine winters have reportedly been milder than normal. But while global warming apparently is occurring in some parts of the world, we are experiencing local freezing.

Hymns

2009-11-15T20:27:00.003-06:00

My favorite part of worship services has always been singing hymns. For me, the music in church seems to speak to my soul and touches me in ways that sermons and lessons seldom do. Hymns frequently tap an emotional and spiritual reservoir within my heart. I like how I feel when singing church hymns.

So I was surprised today to find that I was not able to sing the hymns in our meetings. Why? Because the recent memories of Laura singing with me were too much. I was overcome and simply couldn't sing.

I hope my inability to compose myself enough to sing hymns at church is a temporary condition.

Today I copied the words of two hymns which seem particularly meaningful to me right now.

The first is Where Can I Turn for Peace? by Emma Lou Thayne.

Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace when other sources cease to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice, I draw myself apart,
searching my soul?

Where, when my aching grows, where, when I languish, where, in my
need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

He answers privately, reaching my reaching in my Gethsemane,
Savior and Friend.
Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.
Constant he is and kind, love without end.

The second is Be Still, My Soul by Katharina von Schlegel (translated by Jane Borthwick).

Be still, my soul: The Lord is on thy side; With patience bear
thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide; In ev'ry change he
faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav'nly Friend thru thorny ways
leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake to guide the future
as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake; All now mysterious
shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: The waves and winds still know His voice who
ruled them while he dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: The hour is hast'ning on when we shall be forever
with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone, sorrow forgot, love's
purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: When change and tears are past, all safe and blessed
we shall meet at last.

Hymns are a type of prayer, it seems to me. I have such a fond memory of our family singing How Great Thou Art in sacrament meeting a few years ago. That felt like a prayer. And the hymns in my heart feel like a prayer now.

Moving Right Along

2009-11-04T17:33:00.002-06:00

Grieving is complicated. How grateful I am to have wonderful memories of Laura. The episodes we have experienced this year with Laura were incredibly difficult. I would not care to repeat anything like this ever again.

Life moves on and it is up to me to move along with it. However, I am in unfamiliar territory. I am sure I will learn many great lessons during my "recovery" process.

I recognize how very important it is to have faith and hope. Where would I be without an assurance of the resurrection and the mercy of a loving Heavenly Father? The support of friends, family, and coworkers has been invaluable. I am surprised how much I have needed to talk to people about our loss. People have been extremely supportive, for the most part. There is no greater quality, I am noticing, than being a skilled listener.

Some quotes to share:

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal. ~From a headstone in Ireland
To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die. ~Thomas Campbell, "Hallowed Ground"
While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet him behind the veil. ~John Taylor
Life is eternal, and love is immortal,and death is only a horizon;and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. ~Rossiter Worthington Raymond
When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure. ~Unknown
Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy. ~Unknown
Look for the rainbow that gracious thing, made up of tears and light. ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Laura Ann Oviatt, 1986 - 2009

2009-10-26T15:55:00.004-05:00

I am so very heartbroken to lose Laura, but am so glad that she is no longer suffering. Our emotions are on a roller coaster ride as we try to come to grips with the reality that Laura is gone.

Thank God for the support of family, friends, and co-workers who helped us through this very difficult time. I was so proud of the family remarks at Laura's memorial service and received many, many comments from people who attended and were touched very deeply. I think we helped people understand just how much Laura meant to others and just how special she was.

Several people made it a point to tell me how Laura had helped someone in their family. One woman currently serving a mission emailed us that it was only due to Laura's influence that she made the decisions that led to her missionary service. A parent mentioned how Laura had been the only one to reach out to her daughter at girls' camp several years ago. Another friend told how Laura befriended her when she moved to this area and made a tremendous difference in her life. This is the Laura I knew. This is the Laura I will remember.

Today we ran into Mrs. Barnes, a teacher at Johnston High School who taught some of our children to speak Spanish. Mrs. Barnes was stunned to learn of Laura's death. She certainly knows what we are experiencing, having lost her son in a tragic automobile accident a few years ago. Mrs. Barnes asked about all our children and sent her fond greetings.

This afternoon Brenda and I picked up Laura's remains from the funeral home. Part of the emptiness in our hearts is filled now that Laura is home with us again. Here is an image of the urn containing Laura's remains. This is a temporary resting place. For in the resurrection Laura will rise again, whole and complete, perfected through the atoning sacrifice of the Savior. We look forward to that day and give thanks to the Lord who makes this hope possible. Until then, Rest In Peace, Laura.

Mission ... Impossible

2009-09-11T17:47:00.004-05:00

I graduated from high school in the spring of 1972 at age 17, worked during the summer, and started college at the University of Utah in the fall of that year at age 18. Following my first year of college I again worked during the summer and turned 19 in July of 1973. All summer long I wrestled with the decision of whether to serve a church mission. On the one hand, I believed it was the right thing to do and wanted to serve my Heavenly Father. On the other hand, leaving school to serve a mission would mean giving up my National Merit scholarship. And a two-year commitment seemed like an eternity.

My mother was supportive of whatever I decided to do. My father did NOT want to see me give my scholarship and discouraged me from considering serving a mission. So I got no clear signal from my parents and remained torn.

During the era of the Viet Nam war, some saw the military deferment granted to missionaries as an additional blessing of serving a mission. But the draft lottery was last held in 1972, so the following year when the draft ended and the all-volunteer army was instituted I did not face the prospect of being drafted and possibly going to Viet Nam. How ironic that I was called to serve a mission in Viet Nam, the very country so many wanted to avoid at all costs.

In the end I decided to serve as a result of the conviction that I should and the example of my high school friends, some of whom had accepted mission calls and were leaving for their fields of service.

In the fall of 1973, I did not return for my second year of college. Instead, I continued working and saving money for a mission. I sold my beloved 1961 Thunderbird for the grand sum of $225. My mother did not want to store the car for me because she thought my father would drive it in my absence and ruin it. Besides, I needed the money.

So in December of 1973, following an early Christmas with my family, I was dropped off at the Mission Home in Salt Lake City and began my missionary service.

Following are some photos from that time. The first photo shows me cleaning the outside baptism font at the Saigon branch of the church. The other two photos are of me and other Elders with whom I served (Elder Santry Elmer, who served in Viet Nam and who was my companion in Arkansas and Elder Stewart Baxter, who served in Arkansas).

Cleaning the font at the church

Elders Elmer and Oviatt in front of the church in Fort Smith, Arkansas

Elders Oviatt and Baxter at the airport in Fort Smith, Arkansas seeing off a refugee family headed to California

Unanimous vote

2009-08-18T21:09:00.003-05:00

At work we have "aisle parties" in our department. Each month the inhabitants of the cubicles along a particular aisle plan some type of fun/celebration activity. This month Aisle E, my aisle, decided to build on theme of the Iowa State Fair, which is taking place this week. So we hosted "An E-fair to remember."

Each office was decorated in some fashion or became an exhibit, such as a petting zoo or a fortune teller or a talent stage and so on. And we also sponsored a number of contests, such as guessing the number of corn kernels in a jar or guessing the weight of one of my co-workers (note - this was guessing the weight of all the "stuff" in her cluttered office, not her personal weight).

For some reason I just can't understand, I was nominated to be the World's Biggest Bore (those familiar with the Iowa State Fair will understand the play on the word Bore). This was a unanimous vote! So I plastered my office with pictures of the grandchildren ("Ask me about my grandkids!!!) and hooked to my belt a leather holster holding my slide rule. I was not successful in finding a pocket protector, so my costume was not quite complete.

We turned this into a project to help the local food bank with a contest to see which aisle would contribute the most canned goods or money. And we had a number of competitions for prizes, including a coin toss into glass dishes, cow races on a Wii system, and a balloon sculpting contest. We capped off the week with a variety of different types of "food on a stick" (okay, on toothpicks) and my world famous dry ice root beer (this was our alcohol-free beer tent). We raised about $300 for the food bank and had a great time.

In today's economy with so much concern about jobs and finances, it is great to work for a company and with co-workers that care about people and having some fun. Somehow the Iowa State Fair just won't seem the same this year.

In starting my reign as the World's Biggest Bore, let me take a few moments to say how proud I am to represent the people of the state of Iowa and to mention several accomplishments ... (by the way, did I tell you about my grandchildren???).

Memory full

2009-08-18T17:22:00.004-05:00

When I was a boy I used to memorize much more than I do today. Now when almost anything can be found online there seems little need to memorize. A more useful skill is knowing how to search.

My earliest memories of memorizing are connected with church and giving what was once known as "two and a half minute talks" in Primary. I'm not sure where the time frame of two and a half minutes came from, but I clearly remember memorizing remarks and repeating these over and over again to make sure I stayed within the allotted time. Later I memorized the Boy Scout Law and the Articles of Faith (which I still repeat at night when I am having trouble sleeping).

Later memorizing was associated with school work. For spelling bees I memorized the correct spelling of thousands of words, many very obscure. (One of the things I hate most about aging is losing confidence in knowing how to spell. My journal is laced with words that have little question marks beside them, indicating my uncertainty about the spelling. Hmm, I think I need to invent a pen with a spell-check feature!) And being skilled at memorizing turned out to be a critical skill in test taking. The education process in my day rewarded memorization and short-term retention for taking tests far more than critical thinking or effective problem solving. I owe my scholarship award in part to the ability to memorize prodigious amounts of information!

Learning foreign languages (Russian and Vietnamese) involved a great deal of memorization. I can still remember making the transition from memorization and translating to actually thinking in these languages. Once I became fluent, at times I had to translate back into English because my native tongue had become my second language! I memorized my patriarchal blessing, missionary discussions, and seminary scripture mastery scriptures.

Today I can remember little of what I once memorized. I struggle to recall a joke for more than a few minutes. I have always had an unusual memory for numbers and for years could recall the address and phone number of every place I lived. But I can no longer reliably do so. I have to look up the dates of family member birthdays. I do still remember the lyrics to some favorite songs. And for some reason, one particular poem is indelibly etched on my mind. It made a tremendous impression on me as a college freshman and somehow has stuck with me for nearly four decades.

A slender strand of sophistry,
All tenuous and tangly,
Soft and sweetly strangled me.

The only source I can find for this simple but powerful poem is Jennifer Sainsbury, “Worldly Knowledge,” New Era, Jun 1972, 51.

It is fun to remember some things; others are best left unremembered. One of the wisest things I ever read was a definition of life as "the process of exchanging time for memories." I wish I could remember where I read this ...

A $200 space age lesson

2009-06-03T17:06:00.002-05:00

There are times when a mistake come with a price tag attached. Such times let me judge in a unique and precise way the value of the lesson to be learned.

I can think, for example, of a time when one of my children (all parties shall go un-named!) broke a window to get into the house and out of the rain because Mom was running an errand and the door was locked. There was a definite cost to replace the glass.

In another case a new driver failed to negotiate a curb and damaged a wheel, which had to be replaced at a not insignificant cost.

Another teen driver rear-ended a vehicle he was following a little too closely. While we did have insurance as protection for that very purpose, the deductible we had to satisfy was a definite dent in the checkbook.

Yet another student driver, momentarily distracted, veered off the road and damaged a trash receptacle and mailbox, both of which had to be replaced.

In these cases I usually tried to teach a lesson. Typically, I would tell the offender that the cost to repair the damage was well worth it if he/she learned never to make that mistake again!

I had my own lesson recently while vacationing in Utah. I had promised Autumn and Prairie that next time I visited I would help them fly model rockets. Because I knew I wouldn’t have adequate time to build rockets from kits during our visit, I took along some older models I built years earlier. With only a little fixing-up, these were ready to fly. However, in the frantic preparation and packing to go, I failed to carefully inspect and experiment with the launch system. I believed my previous experience with launching model rockets would stand me in good stead.

The first launch was successful, though not aimed as accurately as I would have liked. Thankfully, Ben did the chasing to recover this rocket. The second launch was with a larger rocket. I had misgivings about the launch rod, but decided to go ahead and hope for the best. This launch was a disaster. The rocket did not slide smoothly along the launch rod, but fell over. As I watched the engine burn on the ground, I realized the charge that deploys the parachute would pop the engine out of the rocket body and right at Brenda. I yelled for everyone to move back and out of the way. As Brenda started to do so, she caught her foot and fell flat on her backside. As she flung out her arms, the digital camera she was holding was thrown several feet across the parking lot. The price tag for this lesson was $200 to replace a camera that was damaged due to my negligence to follow proper safety procedures and test everything as I should have done.

Mom may think that I paid $200 to replace her camera. Actually, I paid the money to (re)learn the lesson that I always need to follow proper safety procedures and safeguard the well-being of others in everything I do. Short-cuts may save time, but often end up with a much higher cost. This experience seems to me to be a pretty cheap price to pay for such an important lesson.

Never, never, never ...

2009-05-12T20:03:00.003-05:00

Late October 1941 in England was a perilous time. World War II had been raging in Europe for more than two years. In September 1939 Germany had invaded Poland. Britain quickly declared war on Germany and began attacking the German navy. The United States immediately proclaimed neutrality and did not enter the war until the devastating attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941.

In May 1940 Winston Churchill became Prime Minister of England. At this time, the German army was invading and conquering several European countries, and Britain was definitely threatened. Throughout 1940 and 1941 England experienced rationing, the evacuation from Dunkirk, German U-boat attacks, the Battle of Britain, bombing of British airfields and factories, a blockade of the British Isles, and air raids on London and Coventry.

On Wednesday, October 29 Winston Churchill visited Harrow School and spoke to the headmaster and students there. Following is an excerpt from his remarks that day (with my emphasis). While the context of his words was the horror of World War II, Churchill’s remarks are relevant today for those who deal with personal challenges, tragedies, and feelings of despair and hopelessness.

“You cannot tell from appearances how things will go. Sometimes imagination makes things out far worse than they are; yet without imagination not much can be done. Those people who are imaginative see many more dangers than perhaps exist; certainly many more than will happen; but then they must also pray to be given that extra courage to carry this far-reaching imagination. But for everyone, surely, what we have gone through in this period - I am addressing myself to the School - surely from this period of ten months this is the lesson: never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never - in nothing, great or small, large or petty - never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy. We stood all alone a year ago, and to many countries it seemed that our account was closed, we were finished. All this tradition of ours, our songs, our School history, this part of the history of this country, were gone and finished and liquidated. Very different is the mood today. Britain, other nations thought, had drawn a sponge across her slate. But instead our country stood in the gap. There was no flinching and no thought of giving in; and by what seemed almost a miracle to those outside these Islands, though we ourselves never doubted it, we now find ourselves in a position where I say that we can be sure that we have only to persevere to conquer.”

http://www.winstonchurchill.org/learn/speeches/speeches/1941-1945-war-leader/103-never-give-in

Not a recession, but a compression

2009-04-12T22:41:00.002-05:00

We are turning to technology in the fight against the lymphedema in Mom's legs. Last week I took Mom to be fitted for the compression device you see in these photos. This system consists of a pump (the small box sitting on the glass table next to the woman) attached by hoses to vinyl inflatable sleeves that zip around both legs. As you can see in the second photo, the pump connects to each sleeve by four hoses which are attached to four separate chambers in the sleeve. The pump is programmed for a 30 second cycle during which it inflates the four chambers, starting at the foot with more pressure and moving up the leg with less pressure in each successive chamber, before releasing the pressure and repeating the cycle. This "forces" the fluid up the leg and increases the circulation in the lymph system so that fluid does not collect in the legs, ankles, and feet. After an hour of this massaging we can see definite results.

One of the reasons we looked into this system is because Mom is supposed to be doing water exercises 3-4 times each week. However, when I wrap her legs Mom is unable to be in the water because the compression wraps are supposed to stay on for two or three days. So on the one hand Mom is being encouraged to swim and on the other hand is being told to keep her legs wrapped. We hope that this device, which conveniently zips on and off, will allow Mom to get the compression treatment she needs and still be able to exercise in the water. Maybe this combination will help keep down the swelling in her legs.

This does not entirely replace the compression wrapping I must continue to do, but it will provide Mom more flexibility as to when the wrapping will need to be done. We are so grateful for the miracle of modern medicine and the treatments made possible by inventions such as this one. We are also thankful for insurance to help with the cost of the device. Without insurance, this would not be an option we could afford.

I pray that Mom will enjoy good results from this equipment.

Welcome, Zephyr

2009-04-05T21:54:00.003-05:00

Very early in the morning on April 3 Ben called to announce that Emily had given birth to their baby boy, named Zephyr. Apparently Ben called twice, but I remember only one call. Later that morning at work I asked myself if I had dreamed the call, but Brenda assured me that it had taken place and we were grandparents for the sixth time.

For months we have prayed for a safe birth and a healthy baby. We are so glad that everything went well and that Zephyr is finally here. We are sure that Autumn and Prairie are excited about having a baby brother and can't wait to meet him personally!

From wiki.name.com:
The name Zephyr is of Greek origin and means "west wind," from the Greek Zephyros. It may refer to the wind as an abstract force, or to the god of the west wind. It is an unusual name, and may be given to either boys or girls.

Zephyr, the god of the west wind, features in several Greek myths, such as that of Cupid and Psyche, where he transports Psyche to Cupid's cave. He is also seen in the story of Hyacinth. Both Zephyr and Apollo have fallen in love with Hyacinth, but when Zephyr sees Hyacinth and Apollo playing discus together, he uses his wind to throw the discus off course so that it severs Hyacinth's head.

Zephyr is an unusual name in the United States, and has not appeared on the top 1000 most popular names list in any recorded year. It has had a bit more popularity in other countries: in 2003, Zephyr ranked as the 365th most popular boy's name in Australia. The name, or its variant Zéphir, may have had some popularity in France.

Happy April Fools' Day!

2009-04-01T17:17:00.001-05:00

Of all the April Fools’ Day pranks I have experienced, one stands out more clearly in my mind than all the rest. I can certainly recall a number of “smaller” pranks, some of which were repeated year after year in our family. For example, the first person at our kitchen sink the morning of April 1 would, when turning on the water, typically be squirted by the sink sprayer, which was rigged with a rubber band and pointed directly in front of the faucet. And because sugar and salt are not easily distinguished, a bowl of breakfast cereal would certainly be a different taste experience. Also, a sleepy-eyed person making the first visit of the day to the bathroom might have a plastic-wrap surprise when using the toilet. These pranks are certainly funnier to the one doing the planning than to the victim!

When we lived in Salt Lake City, I typically took the bus to and from work. Because my commute was over an hour each way, I usually was quite tired by the time I would get home. Often the highlight of my day was being met by the kids, who would watch for the bus to arrive and would run out of the house to greet me.

One day I was puzzled when I exited the bus because no one appeared to welcome me home. Upon entering the house, I was shocked to see one of the girls lying on the couch wrapped in blood-stained bandages. Everyone had very grave looks on their faces and I immediately assumed the worst, thinking that my child had been hit by a car.

Why is that the first thing I would think? When I was a young boy, about 6-7 years old, I actually was hit by a car. The “main road” near my house was in reality not a very busy street. Pick-up baseball games would often be played in the front yard of the Ortega house and the outfield would reach out into the street. One day I happened to step back just as a car was passing and I was knocked to the ground (but not seriously hurt). This experience was pretty traumatic for me (I was hit by a CAR!) and caused me to be very cautious with my own children.

After seeing my obvious distress and the shocked look on my face, everyone burst out with “April Fool!” and I realized that I had been had … hook, line, and sinker. I was so relieved that nothing was seriously wrong AND so mad that everyone had banded together to play such a vile, mean, underhanded trick on me. My next thought? How could I do even better next April 1!

A new addition

2009-03-29T10:18:00.003-05:00

What a miracle the birth of a baby is! We are very, very happy to welcome Silas into our family and are grateful for the answer to our many prayers in his and Lindsey's behalf (oh, okay, and Dustin too!).

Silas - Origin and Meaning of the name
(from www.babynamespedia.com)

The boy name Silas is pronounced as SAYLahS. Silas is used predominantly in the English language and its origin is Latin. Biblical name derived from the element 'silva' which means wood, forest. Silouanus (Old Greek), Silvanus (Latin), and Silvianus (Latin) are old forms of Silas. The name was originally used as a nickname for someone living in the woods, or else someone whose job involved working with wood. The name appeared in Roman mythology as Silvanus, the spirit or god of the trees. In the Bible, it was borne by a prophet and companion of the apostle Paul and Timothy. The name was also borne by several early saints, and was adopted by English Puritans in the 17th century. In literature, the name appeared as the miserly weaver in the George Eliot novel Silas Marner (1861), and as the villian in the Sheridan Le Fanu novel Uncle Silas (1864). The name Silvana (German and Italian) is the female version of Silas.

Popularity of SILAS as a boy's name in United States
(from www.babynamefacts.com)

Year - Rank
2007 - 346th
2006 - 373rd
2005 - 412th

An "L" of a birthday*

2009-03-18T17:56:00.003-05:00

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears! March 19 is Brenda’s birthday, a significant one in that it ends in a zero. Some weeks ago Brenda mentioned to me that she has never in her life had a birthday party with invited guests just for her. She’s been part of many birthday parties for our kids when they invited guests. And we have had family birthday parties to celebrate Brenda’s birthday. But apparently neither as a child nor in our marriage has she enjoyed a “real” party of her own.

I thought about organizing a surprise party to celebrate Brenda’s birthday. But her birthday falls during Spring break and many of the friends I would invite are out of town. So I decided instead to invite church members, friends, and acquaintances from former times and places to join me in wishing Brenda a Happy Birthday by phone call, text message, or e-mail. I printed copies of a little card I handed out to people in church inviting them to contact Brenda. I also e-mailed many people in my address book with the same invitation. Brenda is not aware, I think, that I have gone to this effort. It will be fun to see how many people take part.

Already some birthday cards have arrived in the mail. Brenda was a little puzzled to receive a card from one woman she hardly knows. I was relieved to see that the note accompanying the card did not let the cat out of the bag.

Tonight I will need to be a little sneaky to charge Brenda’s cell phone without her knowing I am doing so. And tomorrow I will have to come up with some excuse to keep her at home so those trying to call Brenda can reach her.

Happy Birthday, Brenda. I love you.

* Think Roman numeral L

Dickens: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times;"

2009-03-09T17:20:00.002-05:00

Here are a couple of observations I noted in a recent economic report:

US employment numbers dropped by 651,000 jobs in February, nearly equaling the monthly declines in December and January. The national unemployment rate rose from 7.6% to 8.1%, the highest since 1983.

I finished graduate school in 1983 during a significant recession. It was very difficult to find full-time employment at that time. In fact, because I could not find work I accepted a position as a summer intern while I continued to search for a “real” job. I felt a heavy responsibility to provide for my wife and three little children and was very concerned that I might not be able to find work by summer’s end. So how did I get a job?

My manager was responsible not only for Human Resources (my educational background), but also for Corporate Services, which included all the buildings and office cubicles. Several office moves were scheduled for the summer months and I did whatever I could to help out. So instead of doing what I was educated to do, I helped plan and organize office moves. This was “down and dirty” work, often involved working late and on weekends to help with the moves when people were away from the building. Instead of working with the white collar professionals in the company, I worked in the trenches with the maintenance workers, office construction staff, and moving company staff. I think when my manager saw my willingness to pitch in and help with whatever was necessary, she decided I was worth keeping. I ended the summer with the offer of a full-time position.

The United States, China, and many countries in Europe have enacted economic stimulus packages, with the U.S. and Chinese packages proportionately larger than the European packages. Little impact will be felt before late 2009; most of the impact will appear in 2010.

Today I think it is necessary to adopt a strategy to “ride out” the recession. It seems clear that a recovery will take some time to occur. That said, I am confident that we will see better times again. During difficult times, we can all fall victim to two extremes of thought. We can mistakenly think that good times will always continue and not have a backup plan or build a safety net. I think this is what we have witnessed during much of the last thirty years. The prophets have been very clear that we should be prepared for emergencies, including loss of employment and reduction of income. Conversely, during bad times we can conclude that the future will always be bleak. Such catastrophic thinking may destroy hope that better days will come. Both extremes can cause us to make short-term decisions that have poor long-term consequences.

Life tends to follow a roller-coaster pattern, with recurring highs and lows. I once heard a speaker say that as adults our lives would likely move in and out of crisis every three months or so. At the time I thought his comment was extreme. I no longer think so. I can think of no generation that has not had serious challenges and struggles. Certainly the pioneers faced difficulties we can only imagine. Within the last hundred years the world has experienced two great world wars and countless smaller wars. Some lethal diseases, now rare, were once commonplace. And economies have fluctuated over and over again. So what we are experiencing to day, though it may be different in degree, is certainly not different in kind from what many others have seen. We have no reason to expect a life without challenge and turmoil. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be happy and experience joy in life. With patience, preparation, persistence and prayer we can – and will – weather the problems we face. “Therefore, let your hearts be comforted; for all things shall work together for good to them that walk uprightly … (D&C 100: 15)

My nickname in grade school ... and Book of Mormon nicknames?

2009-03-06T19:46:00.006-06:00

When I was a boy there was a fast food hamburger chain in Salt Lake City called Dee's Hamburgers. Long before McDonald's came to Utah, the advertising image of this outlet was a clown. If the clown had a name, I was unaware of it; everyone knew it as the Dee Burger Clown. I was the only student in school named Dee. And guess what my nickname was? Yes, I was known far and wide as the Dee Burger Clown.

Today going for a hamburger is practically an everyday occurrence. In the late 1950s and early 1960s it was still a big deal to go for burgers. This photo of the Dee Burger Clown shows a price of 28 cents for a hamburger, but I can remember when I was in graduate school in the early 1980s there would occasionally be specials for 19 cents (Mom and I would enjoy a night out for fine dining!) and on a rare Friday the 13th the special promotion would be hamburgers for 13 cents.

I can still remember the advertising jingle that played so often on the radio: "Let's all go to Dee's ... Let's all go to Dee's ... That's what Daddy says and the family all agrees. Dee's!" Okay, so it was in the days before women's rights and gender equality.

Eventually this chain was sold to Hardee's and the cherished Dee Burger Clown disappeared. My nickname hung on through high school, though, as the memory of Dee's Hamburgers was indelibly impressed in the memory of many people. Interestingly, the chain had an outlet in South Africa as some entrepreneur from Utah (a returned missionary, perhaps?) tried an early international expansion. Apparently this was the first experiment at a fast food outlet in that country (see Wikipedia for more details). The next photo shows what must have been the eventual fate of all the Dee Burger clowns (sigh) -- except me.

Based on my not altogether pleasant experience with this nickname, when Mom and I had children we tried very hard to choose names that we thought would not lend themselves to terrible nicknames. Try as we might, though, various nicknames took root and flourished. Ben became known early on as BJ. Lisa was called Weesa and later as Chunga (ask her). Brian became Briney when one of the younger girls couldn't quite master the correct pronunciation. Laura was Oreo for a time when Lindsey couldn't say the letter L properly. Later she was Lorp or Lorpie, and I believe eventually Autumn tagged her with Woe-wee. And Lindsey will forever be known as Cheekers (ask Laura for the de-"tail" on this one ... pardon the pun). I've undoubtedly overlooked or forgotten many other nicknames; perhaps everyone can add to the list I've started here.

In the back of some editions of the Book of Mormon is a pronunciation guide to the names found in the manuscript. What I would really like to see is a list of their nicknames! During my childhood Nephi might have been known as Pop (because of the Nephi soda sold at that time). Laman would undoubtedly have been Lame-man. Perhaps Lemuel would have been called Lemur (a cousin to a weasel?). We already know from John Bytheway that Shiblon was dubbed Shibby (ugh!). And it is for a good reason that the brother of Jared was known by that substitute for his real name ... but I bet he had a nickname, too. Too bad it was so difficult to engrave on the metal plates. Or maybe the nicknames are in the sealed portion of the plates!

100 and counting

2009-03-05T18:26:00.002-06:00

In trying to decide the topic for my 100th blog entry, I have been considering themes that have to do with the number one hundred … century … Roman numeral C … and so on. When I thought about the number one hundred as ten squared, I was reminded of my grandparents who, coincidentally, each had ten children.

On the Oviatt side are three sons (Volmer, LuDean, Arden) and seven daughters (Vea, Grace, Agnes, Elva, Lois, Marva, Sally).

Volmer lives in Price, Utah. He was involved in fierce fighting in WWII, but I never heard him mention anything about his war experiences. We would stop occasionally on the way to visit our grandparents to see him and Aunt Rita, who is now gone.
LuDean and his wife Connie lived in California and we did not know him very well. The only time I remember seeing LuDean was at the Oviatt family reunion. They are both gone now.
My dad, who died in 1976 a month after turning 44 years old, was the first of his siblings to pass away. He is buried next to his parents in the Elmo cemetery.
Vea and her husband Leo Sabey lived in Midvale, less than a mile from the house we lived in from 1963 or 1964 to 1966. Uncle Leo was the manager of the Utah-Idaho sugar factory where both my parents worked for a time. Both are deceased.
Grace and her husband Albert Rodgers lived in Salt Lake City. Grace was famous for the wonderful caramels she made for Christmas gifts. Her boys sold us a gasoline powered go-kart we loved driving up and own our lane. Both are gone now.
Agnes lives with her son in Elmo. Even though she doesn’t see very well, she does intricate beadwork and has sent me a number of bead animals as gifts. Aunt Agnes lost a son in a coal mining accident. His body was never recovered.
Sisters Elva and Lois married brothers Ted and Bill Jensen. We frequently visited Bill and Lois, who had children my age, but seldom visited Ted and Elva, whose children were older. You have heard me talk about visiting Aunt Lois’ farm and sledding down a snow-covered hill onto the roof of a shed. The first time I saw a goat slaughtered was at Uncle Bill’s house. Only Uncle Ted is still living.
Marva Dawn and her husband Clifford Jones lived in Othello, Washington. I spent the summer of 1966 living with them and working on their farm. What an impact they had in my life and on my activity in the church! Marva still lives in Washington; Uncle Clifford is gone.
Sally and her husband Dan Russ lived in Cheyenne, Wyoming. My earliest memory of Aunt Sally is seeing her in uniform (Air Force). While we didn’t visit her and Russ when I was younger, I have enjoyed visiting her as an adult. Pray for Aunt Sally as she recovers from double knee replacement surgery!

On the Allen side are five sons (Jim, Lynn, Hugh, Bob, Dean) and five daughters (Reva, Zelma, Melba, Loretta Mae, Rolene).

Jim and his first wife, Connie, lived in California, where he had served in the Navy. After her death several years ago, he moved to Ferron, Utah and remarried (Dorothy). I have very few memories of Jim when I was young because he had already left home.
Lynn is living in Colorado. Upon returning from his mission, he stayed with our family in Midvale for a short time while he was looking for a job. His first wife, Betty, died and I know little about his current situation.
Hugh and his wife Carol lived in Grantsville, Utah. Hugh was terribly injured in an avalanche on a Boy Scout activity and nearly died. He also nearly lost his leg and had a very prolonged recovery. He finally passed away at a very young age of heart failure, no doubt hastened by his severe injury. I can remember Hugh digging out a basement under his house in Grantsville while he lived in the house. I never understood how the house didn’t fall in on him. Aunt Carol remarried and lives in Utah.
Bob and his wife Earlene live in Orangeville, Utah. I worked for a brief period with Uncle Bob while on break from college classes. Bob saved my life one time by not killing me when I painted a house he was finishing the wrong color because I couldn’t tell the difference in the shades of the interior and exterior paint. Aunt Earlene made it possible for Mom and me to go to Mexico and Jamaica by watching our five children while we were gone (we didn’t trust anyone else with our kids!). Remember eating “dirt and worms?”
Dean and his wife Connie live in Clawson, Utah. Dean went through the Salt Lake Temple with me as I prepared to leave for the mission field. I’m lucky this wasn’t work for the dead because of an earlier time when I was with him in a car he was driving and decided to show me what it was like to go 100 miles per hour on a country road!
Aunt Reva and her husband Norman lived in Lawrence, Utah. Aunt Reva was already married when I remember visiting with my Allen grandparents. But we enjoyed many visits to her farm, especially at lambing time when we got to help feed the bummer lambs with large glass bottles full of milk. Uncle Norman is gone now.
Zelma and her husband Jack Minchey live in Grantsville, Utah. We were frequent visitors at their home when I was growing up. One time I got into big trouble because I used my new tape recorder to secretly capture a conversation between my parents and Jack and Zelma. I have no idea what they were discussing. I remember that I was forced to erase the tape!
Mom was responsible for purchasing the house in South Jordan where our family lived from 1966 until she moved recently. My father thought the $110/month payment for a house costing $20,000 was beyond their means and wanted to move into a more modest place (a dump close to a bar). But Mom held her ground – a wonderful decision for us kids!
I never met Loretta Mae. When Grandmother Allen was pregnant, she slipped during a trip to the mountains and fell on her stomach. Loretta Mae was born disabled and eventually was placed in what was formerly called the American Fork Training School because of the care she needed for her severe disabilities. Coincidentally, she died shortly after my Grandfather Allen passed away in 1974.
Rolene and her husband Gale Rasmussen live in Vernal, Utah. When I was a child Rolene visited with us and taught me how to dunk for quarters. On the Fourth of July holiday, one activity for the kids involved a big wash tub filled with water with coins scattered in the bottom. We were allowed to keep as many as we could pick up using only our mouths (no hands!). Thanks to Aunt Rolene, I became very good at this and got more than my fair share of extra spending money. Rolene has served as a Justice of the Peace in Vernal.

Not many people are so fortunate as to have twenty aunts and uncles (even more counting their spouses!).

Apologizing and Repenting

2009-02-23T17:45:00.002-06:00

For years I have been amazed at what passes for an apology. A typical scenario is when someone gets caught (and this, unfortunately, is usually the motivation for what follows) doing something really stupid or unethical or vulgar or illegal and offers an apology by saying, "I'm sorry if anyone was offended by what I did."

This isn't an apology at all! In reality, this is a criticism. Someone who offers this type of "apology" is really saying, "I didn't do anything wrong. But I'm sorry that you are so overly sensitive that you were offended." In other words, no apology is really intended. And no change is intended except, perhaps, to avoid getting caught next time.

Imagine if people repented like this. "Heavenly Father, I realize that technically I broke six of the ten commandments and kind of skirted two of the others. I'm sorry if you are offended by what I did and hope you will forgive me."

Here is a lesson I learned while teaching my children (you will know who you are) to drive. When Brenda and I married, she did not have a driver's license and had, in fact, never learned to drive. Growing up in Branch, Arkansas (population 200) really didn't require either a license or a car. And coming to school at BYU in Provo certainly didn't require driving. So I did all the driving when we were dating and after we married. Occasionally Brenda would express concern or anxiety about my driving and I would get peeved at her for questioning my ability. Once I started teaching my own children to drive I rode in the passenger seat and gained a new perspective. It was at that point that I adopted a rule in my own life and tried to teach an important principle to my children: the driver is responsible to operate the vehicle in such a way that the passenger feels comfortable and safe. If Brenda does not feel safe, it is my job to change how I am driving so that she does. It is never acceptable to say (or even think), "If you don't like the way I drive, get out of the car!"

This was hard for me initially, but I have grown in wisdom ... at least in this area. My position is no longer, "I'm sorry if you don't like the way I drive." Instead, I swallow my pride and change my approach so that my passengers feel safe.

To me, this analogy illustrates the principle of a true apology. I don't slow down grudgingly while remaining angry. I change how I drive so my passenger feels truly safe. In areas other than driving, I no longer tell others I'm sorry if they are offended at something I have said or done. Instead, I tell them I am sorry for my words or acts. Even if I think they should not be offended, the reality is that they are and that I am the cause. When this is the case, I owe a true apology.

Now, if I can just master repentance ...

Good-"Buy" to Shopping

2009-02-22T00:04:00.004-06:00

When the weekend comes, practically the last thing I want to do is go shopping. Yet this is exactly what a run to the store with Mom to buy something often turns into. And in only two sentences I have described one of the huge differences between men and women. I reference the title of a research study from a prestigious business school: "Men Buy, Women Shop." This is exactly what I experience.

For me, buying something is usually a focused, practical, short-term activity. That's because the act of making a purchase is very much tied up with solving a problem. I go to the store because I need something. The faster I can find what I am looking for, the sooner I can fix what is wrong and move on to doing something enjoyable.

For Mom, shopping is an "experience" or an "adventure." It is a chance to do something fun or different. It is an opportunity to explore ways in which our lives or house could be made more interesting. And it is a time to see new things and talk to new people. Shopping is enjoyable in itself and making the purchase brings the fun to an end. Mom will go to the store because she wants something, and that something is often a break or diversion from the day-to-day routine of life.

Don't get me wrong; I will price shop for a significant purchase to make sure I'm getting a good deal. But this type of shopping is a means to an end, and the end is buying. For Mom, shopping can be recreational, a "date" like eating out or going to a movie.

Now, how do you think we enjoy going to the store together? Often I am finished within the first 5-10 minutes and Mom is just getting warmed up. A recent visit to the thrift store is a case in point. I went into the store thinking that I would try to find a shirt. I found two shirts within a few minutes, quickly walked up and down the store aisles to see if there was any bargain too good to pass up, and then went to tell Mom I was ready to go. When Mom walked into the store, the jewelry counter caught her eye. While I found my shirts and went through the entire store, Mom was still looking at jewelry. She was not even close to being ready to go let me know that she needed much more time to look through the rest of the store. So I drove home to shovel the driveway and came back 45 minutes later to get her (and she still was not finished shopping).

The person who performed our marriage (I'll always remember his name, Vernon Thomander) counseled Mom and me always to do everything together. I understand the wisdom of his counsel and have tried to observe it throughout our marriage. His intent, I'm sure, was to strengthen our marriage and help us draw closer to one another. But I'm quite confident our marriage will continue stronger if I "buy" and Mom "shops" separately!

Under the Weather

2009-02-08T09:42:00.003-06:00

A virus is making its way through Central Iowa, leaving a path of misery and woe. It is so widespread that the local news ran a feature story on how many people are sick, missing work and school. Unfortunately, Brenda and I have both been afflicted.

I've noticed that when I get sick, I get REALLY sick and need special pampering and tender loving care. (I know Brenda gets sick, too, but that is just "normal" sick.) I also get cravings, which I assume is my body's way of telling me that it needs something to fight off the symptoms of illness.

The first and foremost requirement when I am sick is for salt and vinegar flavored potato chips and citrus flavored soda; Squirt or whiskey sour is best, though Fresca will do in a pinch. These alone practically guarantee a rapid and full recovery. Or perhaps they just ease the misery.

A backup remedy is Red Hots candy. The cinnamon seems to burn the toxins out of my system. And when I eat too many, my tongue gets burned as well. But that seems a small price to pay to feel better.Finally, I resort to chicken noodle soup. This cannot be canned soup, but has to be the dry mix package boiled in water.

Any of these remedies work best with a good murder mystery or two.

Aside from food, I also need a large box of lotion-infused facial tissue and an inhaler to clear my passages. I usually don't take much medicine. I can only take a half dose of Benadryl, because I react to it so strongly. It clouds my head and makes my skin feels so sensitive that even the bed sheets irritate me. And I will take NyQuil only in the most extreme circumstances, because the taste is far worse than the ailment. Isn't there some way in today's scientific world that medicine can be made to taste better?

When I was a boy I would sometimes come down with the croup. Mom would drape a sheet over the bed and support it in such a way to make a tent. A vaporizer would go underneath the tent to create a mist for my lungs. And she would also rub Ben-Gay and Vicks VapoRub on my chest. Interestingly, this mixture smelled very much like root beer extract. I still have fond memories of root beer scented reading marathons while ill.

Wisdom of the Fathers

2009-02-07T11:57:00.003-06:00

For Christmas this year I had copies made of an audio recording my Dad sent to me while I was serving as a missionary in Viet Nam. I stumbled across this recording while organizing my basement and realized that, because he died in 1976, my wife and children never heard my father's voice. The recording was brief (less than five minutes) and the quality wasn't very good because of the state of the technology then. Also, because Dad had a cold the voice didn't sound quite right. But it was an interesting gift.

This has me thinking about some of the things Dad used to say to us kids. Two things readily come to mind:

While Mom usually got stuck with the dishes, on occasion we kids would do the dishes with Dad. He always insisted on washing and we had to dry and put away the dishes. If we found a dish that didn't quite get washed clean and had a bit of something stuck to it, we would gleefully point out the problem and hand the dish back to Dad. He would look at it and say, "It's a damn poor wiper who can't get what little the washer misses!" We weren't allowed to use such language, of course. But this made us all the more anxious to find the next problem so we could hear him say it again!

Utah Power and Light, the electric utility where I grew up, used in their advertising a character named Reddy Kilowatt. When Dad would say something to us that we didn't quite catch and we would say, "What?", he would reply, "Watt? Are you a light bulb?"

I don't know why these things stick out, but they are very clear memories. I'll add more examples later.

Cognition and Emotion

2009-02-03T17:41:00.002-06:00

For years I have been studying how cognition influences emotion, or how our thinking drives our feelings. I can remember very clearly telling myself in high school that while I could help what I thought and what I did, I could not help what I felt. I don't know why at the time I believed that so strongly. Perhaps it is because in the teen years emotions can be so very powerful. As it turns out, I was wrong about being able to help what I felt because I did not understand the link between thoughts and emotions.

Many people are bothered by feelings about past events or are fearful about the future they imagine. As the first figure shows, the past and future can have no direct impact in our lives because they are, by definition, not present. However, we are capable of remembering (re-presenting) the past and imagining (pre-presenting) the future in the present through our thinking. In other words, we create a present-based version of the past or future. So we can "experience" the past or future in our thoughts, but not in reality. If we remember the past with fondness or look forward to the future with hopeful anticipation, this can be a blessing. However, too many look backward with regret and forward with fear. This is not useful or healthy. The past is behind us and cannot harm us; only our thinking about the past can cause us to suffer. Similarly, the future is before us and cannot harm us; only our thinking can do so. I hold to Dan Zadra's notion that "Worry is a misuse of imagination."

And while we do experience others and events or circumstances in the present, it is our thinking about these that are the cause of stress and suffering. This is a difficult concept to understand and accept, but is so powerful and liberating. The power of our minds and our agency is phenomenol.

What is the main message of the first figure? I experience the world -- past, present and future -- through my thoughts, which give rise to the emotions I feel. If I struggle and suffer, the immediate cause is my thinking about the past, the present, others and events or circumstances, and not any of those things directly.

The second figure expands on this by illustrating that living in the world of "should" and "should not" rather than in the world of "what is" (reality) is the cause of our suffering. This, again, is a function of our thinking. My friend, Rebecca Overson, counsels that we stop "shoulding all over ourselves" in order to end our suffering. The wise come to learn that "pain is inevitable; suffering is optional." (Unknown author)

We enjoy a gift of agency that cannot be taken from us. While we may not enjoy the power to change the circumstances we face in life, we always have the power of choice regarding our thinking about what we experience and, thus, the associated feelings. More on this later ...

Saturday Morning Waffles

2009-01-31T21:13:00.002-06:00

A tradition in our family was for Dad to make waffles on Saturday mornings. I don’t remember how this tradition was born, though I have fond memories of my father cooking eggs and potatoes on occasion. Somehow, Dad’s cooking tasted extra good – probably because of the novelty of him cooking. I’m sure that Mom must not have appreciated our making such a big deal out of Dad’s cooking when she did the lion’s share of fixing meals!

In our “empty nest” we rarely have waffles. In fact, we no longer own a waffle iron. But on Saturday morning it was a big deal to dig out the thrift store waffle iron and make a big batch. Here is the original recipe I used:

Combine:
· 2 cups flour
· 2 heaping tablespoons baking powder

In a separate container mix:
· 1/4 cup oil
· 2 cups milk
· 4 eggs

Add all ingredients together, mixing well (add solids to liquids so it doesn’t lump on the bottom). Cook in a hot skillet. Eat and enjoy!

One modification I made later was to separate the egg whites, beat them until stiff, and then fold the whites into the batter (don’t mix too much).

Happy Birthday!

2009-01-29T16:01:00.003-06:00

We observe birthdays annually, advancing one year every 365 days (plus one day in a leap year). This cycle is tied to planetary motion, of course, reflecting the orbit of the earth around the sun.

I remember when Emily celebrated Autumn’s pi-day at 3.14 years old. Imagine if instead of observing annual birthdays, we all marked pi birthdays. (A one-pi birthday is three years and 51 days, a two-pi birthday is six years and 102 days, and so on.) This might be ideal for those who like to shave years off their actual age. “How old are you anyway, Dee?” “Well, I am coming up on 18 pi … still a teenager.”

Conversely, we could also celebrate metric birthdays. A metric birthday is not quite as long as a pi birthday, and uses a different taxonomy. (A one-kilo birthday is 1,000 days, a two-kilo birthday is 2,000 days, and so on.) If someone asked me how old I am today, I could reply , “Today I am 19.9 kilodays old. On April 30 I’ll hit the big 20-k!”

So here’s a little fun. As of today (ages rounded to one decimal point):
▪ Brenda is 18.2 kilodays old
▪ Ben and Emily are respectively 10.8 and 9.5 kilodays old
▪ Autumn and Prairie are respectively 1.9 and 1.3 kilodays old
▪ Lisa and Brian Higginson are 10.2 and 12.3 kilodays old
▪ Vaughn and Dean are 1.3 and 0.2 kilodays old
▪ Brian and Laura Wangerin are 9.6 and 8.5 kilodays old
▪ Laura is 8.4 kilodays old
▪ Lindsey and Dustin are 7.5 and 8.9 kilodays old

Maybe I’ll figure out pi-birthdays later. Right now my head hurts, but I also feel much younger!

All I want for Christmas is ...

2009-01-22T17:19:00.003-06:00

This year we planned to stay home for Christmas, but in the end we could not stand to celebrate the holiday without seeing the grandchildren. Oh, yes, and our children, also. So we braved the icy roads of Interstate 80 and spent a lovely week in Utah.

Normally I don't put much emphasis on gifts I receive. After all, we continue to practice our tradition of "used Christmas" and it is easy not to get excited about receiving a gift with a history.

But this year! I received a bust of the Savior (I've always wanted one). I received an iPod (I've always wanted one). I haven't figured out how to download music yet, but I will ... someday. I received a training kit that will teach me to play the piano. (I've always wanted one.) I received an annotated (with personal notes and memories) book about why daughters need fathers (I hadn't always wanted one, but do now because it made me cry). I received home-bottled salsa (I've always wanted some). And more! (I've always wanted more.)

Unfortunately, Brenda cheated. She broke our rule about giving only used Christmas gifts to present me with the following:

I forgive you, Brenda, for buying me the complete collection of Calvin and Hobbes. (I've always wanted one.) I haven't quite been able to bring myself to actually open the set so far, but plan to do so ... soon.

Illusions

2009-01-22T16:49:00.003-06:00

I've always been intrigued by optical illusions. We tend to trust in what we can see ("I'll believe it when I see it!"), but it is very evident that it is easy to trick our eyes and brains. In each example below, we see something that isn't so, or see only part of the whole.

For example, the illusion at the upper left appears to show lines moving toward or away from each other. In reality, the lines are perfectly parallel. Immediately to the right are two lines enclosed by arrow points at either end. The lines are the same length, but the top one appears to be shorter. And the figure to the right spells a word. Is it "Good" or "Evil"?

On the next row is an elephant with a confusing number of legs. Is the number four? Or more? To the right of the elephant is a black and white figure of a young woman. Or is it a musician playing an instrument? And which figure is longer, A or B? Both are, of course, the same size.

In the last row the circles in the center appear different sizes, but are not. The wavy checkerboard turns out to be composed of straight lines. The next figure does not contain a drawn circle, though one is clearly visible. It is only the appearance of a circle, composed of off-setting horizontal lines. And Lincoln's hat is just as wide as it is tall.

Illusions of this type can be fun. But it important to remember that much of what we experience in life is very illusion-like. Events in life are inherently meaning-less; we are the ones who provide the meaning. Human beings are meaning-seeking. We tell ourselves stories (i.e., give explanations) about everything we experience in order to make sense of life. But we mistakenly assume that our conclusions are the truth rather than just stories we tell. And our emotions flow from our conclusions and stories.

We need never be in the grip of strong emotion because we enjoy the greatest power ever ... the power of agency, or choice. We can always choose to tell a different story and, by so doing, experience a different emotion. Those who learn this lesson early in life escape much pain and suffering.

My hope is that we all become "dis-illusioned" with life and with other people. I find personally that I do much better in life when I am curious about what happens rather than when I am angry or frustrated or upset. Curiosity causes me to see behind the illusion I hold to other possible truths, some of which are even more likely and many of which do not cause me to suffer.

When it rains ...

2008-12-03T17:28:00.003-06:00

Enough already! The old adage about problems coming in threes certainly isn't holding true for us. I think the needle is stuck on the record (an analogy that won't make sense to anyone younger than 30, because the CD was introduced 26 years ago in October of 1982!)

Several weeks ago Mom and I decided to replace our garage door because it was so water damaged. I did this against my better judgment, because we had not saved the total amount of cash to pay for the new door. And wouldn't you know, this apparently unleashed the following avalanch of unplanned expenses:

the water heater failed and had to be replaced
a tire on the van picked up a nail in the sidewall and had to be replaced (punctures in sidewalls can't safely be repaired
the battery in the van failed and had to be replaced
the Honda Laura drives needed four new tires
the radiator in the Honda had to be replaced

Rarely have we had so many things like this happen in such a short period of time. That said, I am so grateful that the battery in the van failed two blocks from our house and not in the middle of Nebraska or Wyoming. Our neighbor very graciously helped me quickly replace the battery and we were back on the road in no time.

I am re-learning the lessons of financial viability -- avoid unnecessary debt and always have a cushion for unexpected expenses. It looks like for Christmas this year Mom is getting a garage door and a water heater, I am getting a tire and a battery, and Laura is getting tires and a radiator. Merry Christmas!

1978 - 2008

2008-10-24T17:25:00.002-05:00

You undoubtedly have heard me relate the story of how, on the night before we were to be married in 1978, a member of our ward who had agreed to accompany Brenda as her escort to the temple called and told Brenda that she would not do so. You may remember that Brenda – in some desperation – called Ardeth Kapp, whom she had met once three years previously, and asked if Sister Kapp might go with Brenda to the temple the next morning. Sister Kapp graciously agreed, staying until the ceremony was complete and then quickly leaving because she was late for a meeting with President Kimball! In the years since then, we have maintained a correspondence with Sister Kapp.

A few weeks ago we were pleasantly surprised to learn that Sister Kapp was to be the speaker at our annual Stake Youth Standards night. I bent (okay, broke) the rules a little and wrote to Sister Kapp asking if we might be able to see her while she was in town to speak. She was nearly as excited to see us as we were to see her and we got to enjoy dinner (hosted by the Stake President’s family) with Sister Kapp and a little bit of private time with her following the youth meeting.

Prior to this opportunity, we did not know if we would ever see Sister Kapp again. What a blessing it was for us to renew our acquaintance with her and to understand in richer detail than before just why she agreed to put her busy schedule as a counselor in the General Young Women presidency on hold and accompany Brenda to the temple. We are richly blessed to know Sister Kapp and hope that in some way we might be able to impact the lives of another individual as she has ours.

We do not have a photo of Brenda and Sister Kapp from our wedding (she had to leave before we took photos), but here is a photo from our recent reunion with her.

Moving On

2008-10-10T17:56:00.002-05:00

Although I was released from my calling as my ward's Young Men president a couple of Sundays ago, my last activity took place this week. We had a combined activity featuring square dancing. How fun to see about 40 youth and their parents strutting their stuff! Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. And I noticed that most everyone also got quite a workout!

It is going to be hard leaving the Young Men program. I remember early in my mission in Viet Nam that President Bradshaw, probably seeing something in me that I did not yet clearly see in myself, warned me that I would complete my mission and return home unsatisfied, feeling that I had not done everything I was supposed to do. That was certainly true then ... and it remains true now.

Most church callings seem to me to be designed to do more than the average person can possibly accomplish. With the Young Men, I certainly never figured out how to attend all the meeting, hold all the interviews, work with all the quorum presidencies, meet with all the families, track all the progress, prepare all the lessons, plan and carry out all the activities, fill out all the reports, perform all the service, and do all the good that I was expected to do. I do leave this calling with some regrets for what I did not do well or do at all.

But I also know that I made an impression on these young men. I know that I taught them truth, shared my testimony, encouraged them to live the gospel, helped them understand the scriptures, showed them how to serve, taught them to honor women, and had some fun with them. That's not so bad, really. I could have done worse.

Now I move on to another calling, to serve on the stake high council. I don't yet know what I am supposed to do. I don't yet know what I will need to learn to fulfill my responsibilities and magnify my call. I don't know what will come easily to me and what will not. I don't know whom I will help and whom I will hurt. I only know that when this calling ends, I will leave unsatisfied, feeling I did not do everything I was supposed to do.

I will not have figured out how to attend all the meetings, conduct all the interviews, correlate all the activities, train all the leaders, support all the teachers, report all the progress, motivate all the priesthood holders, preach all the sermons, and render all the service I could have. But perhaps I will have made an impression. Perhaps I will have taught the truth, shared my testimony, encouraged others to live the gospel, helped people understand the scriptures, showed them how to serve, taught them to honor their family members ... and had some fun with them. And that won't be so bad, really. Maybe at that day I will once again leave thinking that I could have done worse.

Table Tennis

2008-09-24T17:17:00.003-05:00

The Asian American employee network at Pioneer sponsored a table tennis competition this week. I did not participate in the tournament last year, but decided on a whim to do so this year. Fortunately for me, Donglong Liu consented to be my doubles partner. Unfortunately for him, I unexpectedly got a cast on my foot three days after signing up.

As might be expected, my mobility was limited and I turned out to be more of a liability than an asset to Donglong. In our first match we went up two games to none, but our opponents came back to sweep the final three games and were victorious in the match.

Here you can see me warming up with Donglong. His arm and the ball are both blurry because he hits it very fast! If you look carefully, you can see the cast on my left foot showing under the table.

Casting around

2008-09-22T17:19:00.003-05:00

After a year of treatment for heel pain with no real improvement, my podiatrist recommended immobilizing my foot for 30 days. My options were a cast on my foot or bedrest for a month. I thought bed rest sounded great, but it wasn't very practical!

Actually, this is the second cast on my foot. The first one was extremely uncomfortable. I tried to tough it out, but after five days experienced what I can only describe as a bout of claustrophobia of the foot. I literally couldn't stand to have the cast on my foot for another moment. I tried cutting the cast, but ran into two problems: I couldn't reach to my foot very well and my tool (wire cutters) were not up to the task. So I went next door and told my neighbor, Steve, that I was going crazy and needed his help removing the cast right away. He brought out his heavy duty metal snips and did the job. Afterwards he said that he has helped a lot of neighbors with a lot of things, but this request was a first for him!

My relief was short-lived. I went back to the doctor's office the next day for another cast. But I insisted on more padding to avoid a repeat of the first experience. So far the second cast is an improvement. But I still have three weeks to go ...

As you can see, I don't let my immobility stop me from exercising. I am working with weights even if I can't walk, run, or bike. So here I am in workout clothes at the fitness center at work. Check out the muscle in that right leg! No wonder the cast on my other leg was so tight.

Lots of zeros

2008-09-19T16:45:00.004-05:00

Large numbers fascinate me. I think this started as a child with my interests in dinosaurs (millions of years ago), the speed of light (unbelievably fast), and the distances in the universe (one light year is nearly six trillion miles). It continues today, but now the context is often something like the federal budget deficit or the cost of waging war.

Here is how I make sense of large numbers. First, consider the ordinary paper clip, which weighs about 1.4 grams. One million paper clips weigh nearly 3,100 pounds, or over a ton and a half. The number "one million" is very large when you envision a ton and a half of paper clips in your office. But the number "one billion" is much larger; one billion paper clips weigh more than eight Boeing 747 passenger jets. And the number "one trillion" is almost too large to fathom. This many paper clips would weigh more than four Empire State Buildings.

Next, consider a penny, which is 1.55 millimeters thick. A stack of a million pennies would reach nearly a mile high. A billion pennies would reach from Des Moines along Interstate 80 a little ways past the Utah-Wyoming border; driving at freeway speed (75 miles per hour) it would take almost thirteen hours to drive that distance. And a trillion pennies would reach around the earth nearly 39 times or between the moon and the earth four times. And I don't think I can drive that far.

Finally, consider time. There are 86,400 seconds in a day. This is a number I can grasp. One million seconds is just over 11.5 days, or a week and a half. So each month sees the passing of almost three million seconds. But a billion seconds is almost 32 years. With luck, I might reach the ripe old age of three billion seconds. But I'll never reach one trillion seconds; this is nearly 32,000 years.

So I get a little concerned when I hear that the federal deficit has reached the trillions of dollars. From the US National Debt Clock:

The Outstanding Public Debt as of September 19, 2008 is $9.7 trillion. The estimated population of the United States is 304 million, so each citizen's share of this debt is nearly $32 thousand.

Garage Sale

2008-08-28T18:31:00.002-05:00

Mom and I take very different approaches to garage sales. I think this starts with the very purpose. I want to get rid of stuff (read "junk") and Mom is interested not only in making money, but in helping people by selling them things they want or need at bargain prices. Given that we differ on "why" it is not surprising that we also differ on "how." For example:

I sweep or spray the garage floor, but Mom mops it
I wipe off the display tables with a damp cloth, but Mom uses disinfectant
I use pre-printed pricing stickers, but Mom stencils hand-made pricing signs
I put out items in "as is" condition, but Mom washes or dusts the items to make them look as nice and new as possible

As it turns out, Mom's jewelry was far and away the biggest attraction at our garage sale. I never cease to be amazed at what people will buy.

Garage sales are an interesting study in people and their personalities. Some people live to haggle over the posted prices. They will buy things they don't need or want just for the opportunity to pay less than what you are asking. Other people shy away from bargaining and always pay the posted price, even though we would be willing to take less.

Mom is also an interesting study. She isn't just a cashier, taking money for what people decide to buy. She is a salesperson, pointing out items that she thinks someone will like or telling an interesting story behind a particular item. Mom connects with the people who come to her garage sales. Why? Because she is helping them.

Part one of our garage sale was last weekend. I left the display tables up in the garage and we will bring up more stuff from the basement to continue with part two over the Labor Day weekend. Wish us luck! Mom will need to sell a lot of items so that she can have enough room in her new office for what remains.

Happy Birthday to me!

2008-07-30T06:59:00.004-05:00

Monday was my birthday and numerous people wished me well. I began the day with a 6 AM teleconference meeting. One of my colleagues said, "I understand today is your birthday, is that right?" I replied that it wasn't right, but it was accurate! He was a little confused until I explained that it wasn't right because another birthday had come much too quickly following the last one, but that he was accurate that it was my birthday.

I kept forgetting that it was my birthday and so when my caller identification would show a phone call from a family member, I would give a little start and wonder why that person would be calling and what could be wrong. Each time I was pleasantly surprised with a birthday greeting or song. Thanks to all who called and made my day.

I was tickled when Autumn called to wish me a happy birthday (with some whispered coaching from Emily in the background). Autumn told me that she had a birthday present for me and asked if I wanted to know what it was. "Me calling you!" she exclaimed! That is indeed a wonderful birthday present. Autumn ended her call by telling me that Prairie also had a birthday present for me. "What is it?" I asked. "Her taking a nap," said Autumn. I replied that taking a nap is a great birthday present and told Autumn that I would also take a nap for my birthday. What a sweet, cute call!

Laura treated me to her Scottish accent version of the Happy Birthday song. I can't hear Lassie Laura talk or sing using her thick brogue (definition: a strong dialectal accent, especially a strong Irish or Scottish accent when speaking English) without starting to giggle. By the time she finished all the flourishes of the song, I was laughing out loud. If only I could have recorded this call and preserved it for posterity.

Thanks to all for your wonderful birthday wishes. Until next year ...

What happened in 1954, the year of my birth?
-The US was composed of 48 states
-The first nuclear powered submarine was launched
-Mass vaccination of children against polio began
-The first successful kidney transplant occurred
-Roger Bannister became the first person to run a mile in under four minutes
-Bill Haley and the Comets released "Rock Around the Clock", the first rock and roll record to reach number one on the charts (initiating the rock and roll movement)
-The Supreme Court ruled that segratation in education was illegal
-The words "under God" were placed in the US Pledge of Allegiance
-The French were defeated in Viet Nam, which was divided into north and south sections
-The magazine Sports Illustrated was first published
-What eventually became The Tonight Show, with Steve Allen as host, first aired
-The transistor radio was announced
-Senator Joseph McCarthy was condemned in the US Senate
-Watson and Crick discovered the double helix structure of DNA
-The Boeing 707 took its maiden flight
-Swanson introduced TV Dinners
-The Dow Jones closed at an all time high of 382.74

What did things cost in 1954?
-A postage stamp cost 3 cents
-The First all Electronic Color television went on sale from RCA for $1,000
-A new house cost $10,250 (average)
-A gallon of gas sold for 22 cents
-The average price for a new car was $1,750
-Average monthly rent was $85
-A movie ticket cost 70 cents
-An 8 ounce box of Kellog's Corn Flakes sold for 25 cents

Aloha!

2008-07-03T22:12:00.009-05:00

I spent one summer working in Hawaii harvesting pineapples. What an adventure this was! The thought of my first airplane flight and the chance to go to a tropical paradise were overwhelming for me. I was so excited when I went to an orientation meeting to learn the details of this job, then was devastated to learn that I was partially color blind (I hadn't known this previously) and was put on a waiting list. Fortunately, enough people who had been selected before me opted not to go and this opened a space for me.

Why was color vision so important? In order to tell the difference between green and ripe pineapples (see the photos). I can tell the difference between green and gold, so choosing the ripe fruit was not a problem for me.

When people ask me what it was like working in Hawaii, I say that it was fun for the first ten minutes and then was a summer of drudgery. Only after arriving in Hawaii did I learn that we were the migrant workers brought in to do work most of the local population would not do.

I included a photo showing the type of protective clothing we wore to do this work. While we did not use the picking bag, we did wear hats for protection from the sun and the long sleeves, goggles, gloves, and chaps over our pants to protect us from the very sharp leaves of the pineapple plant. We would have liked to wear t-shirts and shorts in the heat, but this simply wouldn't provide adequate protection.

This picture shows the tractor and boom rig used for harvesting. We walked in rows behind the boom; I'm not sure why this photo shows workers on both sides of the boom. Harvesting involved picking the ripe fruit and twisting off the thorny top before placing the pineapple on the belt, where it moved along the boom to the tractor and filled a waiting truck.

That Stinks!

2008-06-19T18:48:00.003-05:00

The flood waters are receding and the danger appears to be over. Now the cleanup begins and will continue for weeks and maybe months. Mom and I went downtown earlier this week and drove on one of the roads that was flooded. As we looked out onto the river from the Court Avenue bridge, we were amazed at all of the debris that had washed up against the pedestrian bridge and was trapped there. This wasn't all little branches and limbs, but included a couple of gigantic trees. It will require some kind of crane to remove these.

When I leave work to go home, there is a distinct odor just east of the bridge where the water sat for so long. We can't help but wonder just how much waste material was in the water because so many treatment systems overflowed and discharged raw sewage into the rivers. Remember the spot in Nebraska along the interstate where we could always smell the cattle lot? We aren't that bad, but can certainly notice a difference in the air.

We are so grateful that we were spared personally from the flood devastation and pray for those who experienced the full impact of the deluge. I hope never to see anything like this again.

500 year flood?

2008-06-12T17:10:00.004-05:00

In 1993 Des Moines experienced a terrible flood, resulting in the loss of drinking water in the city for twenty days. We have considered the flood of 1993 a 500 year flood. I was confident I would never see anything like that again.

Here it is fifteen years later, in 2008, and we are experiencing even worse flooding. How did 500 years pass so quickly? The explanation around the water cooler at work is that we caught the tail end of the last 500 year cycle in 1993, and are starting out the new 500 year cycle with another flood!

This time we are in no danger of losing our water supply, thanks to the work done following the last episode. The levees around the water treatment plant are much higher and the equipment and buildings are safe. Unfortunately, many homes and businesses are not safe. They are inundated with water -- again.

There is flooding all over the state. The following photos, which are printed in the Des Moines Register, show what is happening in downtown Des Moines (you can see Court Avenue under water). The rivers will crest some time this weekend, so what you see here is not the worst we will experience.

Where is a ten year old when you need one?

2008-06-09T17:23:00.003-05:00

I hate technology. Last night I was downstairs watching the NBA Finals and surfing channels during commercials. For some reason, one channel with no transmission was apparently programmed into the scanning function. I got tired of seeing the "snow" on the screen when switching channels, so decided to go into the onscreen menu and remove the unwanted channel.

You probably already know the outcome of this little adventure. Now the remote won't scan through the channels at all. I guess I'll give up watching basketball. Or I'll only watch what happens to be playing on ABC. I'll be darned if I will get up and down to switch channels manually. Perhaps I can attach a string to the remote and throw it at the buttons on front of the television and change channels that way. I can retrieve the remote with the string and won't have to get up at all.

This reminds me of the time I almost threw away my VHS/DVD player because it quit playing DVDs. I knew it would cost more to have it repaired than to buy a new one. But I am of the generation that is reluctant to throw away electronics. Thinking maybe a setting was off, I pushed every button and combination of buttons I could think of -- to no avail. Because Lindsey, who was away at school, was due home soon I decided to have her look at the DVD player before doing anything. After all, we still had plenty of VHS videos we could play while waiting for her to return. Sure enough, when Lindsey got home she took one look at the machine and pushed a button that fixed the problem. It was the same button I had pushed twenty times, but for her it worked.

Someone, please come home. The clock on my stereo is blinking and the clock on the DVD player is off an hour, even though the time zone is set correctly (I swear!).

I hate technology ...

1968

2008-06-05T16:47:00.004-05:00

I was 13 years old in April and June of 1968 when two horrible assassinations took place: Martin Luther King on April 4 at age 39 and Bobby Kennedy on June 5 at age 42. We were still in school when Dr. King was killed. He was not as universally revered at that time, in the midst of the struggle for civil rights. Some in our nation, viewing Dr. King as a trouble maker and rabble rouser, were not sorry to see him die and this sentiment was voiced in our classroom discussion in our social studies class. It wasn't that my classmates held this view, but I remember clearly one boy repeating a comment in that vein his parents had made. We were shocked at the murder and didn't know how the country would react.

Just two months later Bobby Kennedy was shot, moments after delivering a speech following his win in the California Democratic primary. School was out by then and I remember being outside helping my Dad pour a concrete extension to the driveway of the house in South Jordan. The impact of this murder hit me harder. I think this was because I thought Bobby Kennedy was almost certain to become the next president, just five years after his brother was assassinated in Dallas and because it followed so closely on the heels of the death of Dr. King. I couldn't quite believe that this was happening in the US. It seemed so savage, as though suddenly the country had reverted to an uncivilized land where life was of no value and raw force held sway. All this took place against the backdrop of the Viet Nam war with the Tet offensive in 1968 making me wonder if we would lose the war. The country was intensely divided and angry, and massive anti-war protests were a common occurrence. It seemed very surreal to keep mixing and pouring concrete when yet another high profile assassination had taken place.

Race riots followed Dr. King's death, reaching to within a few blocks of the White House in Washington, D.C. And the Democratic convention in Chicago turned into a big protest by the Yippies, culminating in the arrest and subsequent infamous trial of the Chicago Seven. It felt like the country was coming apart at the seams.

Here are some of the photos that are seared into my memory from that time.

Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy

Bobby Kennedy, mortally wounded

The most famous of all the Kennedy assassination photos

Yard Work

2008-05-31T18:31:00.003-05:00

I am supposed to be painting the upstairs bedroom so we can turn it into Mom's new office, so what do I do today? Yard work, of course! It was such a beautiful day I could not resist being outside. So what started out as mowing the lawn turned into some trimming and then weeding the flowers and then removing some more raspberry plants and then planting some bare spots in the lawn and then tilling the flower beds and then planting flowers in the beds. Did I mention that I didn't get any painting done today? The yard looks very good and I ache all over!

We planted two kinds of flowers today. Just off the front porch in the small flower bed next to the garage door we planted columbine seeds that Mom harvested from the plants she already had. I'm not sure how long it will take these to grow and bloom, but it will be fun to wait and watch. We were down to a single plant (the others didn't survive the winter weather), so we are anxious to have more. The columbine flower is such an interesting shape, with long "tails" coming from the back of the blossom. The flowers Mom harvested were red and blue, so I hope some of both colors grow for us.

We also planted marigolds, again with seeds Mom harvested from a couple of years ago. Marigolds are particularly hardy and seem to thrive in our area. One season with a long, mild fall our marigolds actually bloomed a second time. I believe you can for subsequent blooms if you pick off the heads, but Mom usually wants them to go to seed so she can harvest the seeds for planting in subsequent years. Marigolds are also supposed to keep away rabbits. Perhaps we will have to plant a row around the garden.

Disaster in Iowa

2008-05-30T17:02:00.005-05:00

By now you've undoubtedly heard about the tornado in Iowa over Memorial Day weekend that took seven lives in and around Parkerburg. In addition to the incalculable value of the lives lost and families shattered, the preliminary damage has been estmated at over six million dollars. This figure will surely rise.

The wind speed was estimated at exceeding 200 mph, which would give this tornado a rating of EF5. Apparently the tornado was over one mile wide and stayed on the ground for over 40 minutes.

I've included a couple of photos, which I'm certain do not do justice to the swath of destruction and scope of the damage. Our thoughts and prayers are with the people in Parkersburg. And we are certainly grateful that we are not in the position of literally picking up the pieces of our lives as they are.

Iris

2008-05-15T21:41:00.002-05:00

This week our first iris blooms appeared in the back yard. Our spring has been so wet and cold this year that the growing season is delayed. I'm not certain if or when we will see all the irises bloom.

When I was a boy, on Memorial Day my Mom would cut iris blooms of all colors from her garden, wrap the stems in wet paper towels covered in plastic bags or foil, and drive to the cemetery in her hometown to decorate the family graves. For the longest time I called this holiday "decoration day" rather than Memorial Day. I looked forward to decorating the graves and hearing stories about the names chiseled into the stones.

We carefully placed the fresh cut flowers at the headstones in what we called Mason jars, canning bottles we had emptied during the winter. I can still see the bright colors of the flowers and American flags brightening the graves in the otherwise drab cemetery. This is where I learned about my Mom's parents losing their first baby to pneumonia. This is where I realized how many soldiers had been cut down in the prime of life fighting in far away wars.

When we moved to Iowa, I no longer had family graves to decorate. So one year I cut my iris blooms to decorate the various war memorials near the capital building and grounds in Des Moines. This turned into a tradition for my own family, honoring the sacrifice of the war wounded and dead who fought to preserve and protect our country and freedoms.

I particularly enjoy the World War II memorial here. The history of the progress of the war for both the European and Pacific theaters is literally cast in the concrete walk, year by year. I tried to explain to my children the magnitude of the war and the heroism of those who fought in our defense. I had them place blooms at the memorials as a small gesture of thanks for a debt we can never adequately repay.

Even though the children are gone, each year I continue our Memorial Day tradition. I am humbled and thankful every year when I think about what others have done and have given for me. I will never forget and I will never cease being grateful. I hope my children enjoyed leaving flowers at the war memorials. More importantly, I hope they remember those who have made it possible for them to enjoy the freedoms and prosperity of this land.

A little history about the iris flower ...

The goddess Iris of Greek mythology was a beloved messenger of the gods, especially of Hera, who became Juno to the ancient Romans. She had golden wings and was the goddess of the rainbow. Iris traveled on the rainbow's arc, carrying commands and messages from the ancient gods to mankind. Iris married the west wind, Zephyrus. To this day, the Greeks plant irises on women's graves, believing that the goddess Iris will guide the souls of women to their last resting places. (from herbs2000.com, "History of Irises)

Tall Bike

2008-05-13T18:22:00.004-05:00

When I was 12-13 years old, my dad created an unusually tall bike for me and my brothers to ride. He did this by turning the bike frame upside down and welding extensions for the seat and handlebars so that we were sitting five or six feet in the air. The only way you could get started on this bike was to lean it up against a tree or wall and climb up onto the seat. Then you had to pedal hard enough to get started without falling over, or have someone give you enough of a push to send you on your way.

This photo gives an idea of what our bike looked like. As you can see, this is a girl's frame turned upside down with the seat and handlebars opposite of where they are normally located. In this photo, the original seat is left "underneath" the bike. We relocated the seat to the other side, so we didn't have a spare. And instead of a handlebar, Dad welded on a steering wheel from a car. While the bike was a little clumsy to ride, we looked unbelievably cool (okay, dorky). We certainly attracted a lot of attention. Everybody wanted to take a turn. And everybody wanted to know where they could get a bike like ours.

Because the center of balance was so high while riding this bike, it was always a little awkward to ride. You couldn't turn too sharp or you would easily tip over. And if this happened, you had to time your jump from the bike so you wouldn't get tangled in it when it fell over. I remember a few scrapes and bruises learning to master the tall bike. But, oh, what fun it was!

On the road again

2008-05-12T21:39:00.003-05:00

For the first time this year I was able to ride my bicycle to work today. My timing is good, because this is "bike to work" week. My route is 3.1 miles, mostly downhill on the way to work and mostly uphill on the way home. This works out very well because I arrive at work relatively fresh. By the time I reach home, I know I've had a workout.

I'm always surprised at how out of shape I seem when I start biking in the spring. I am fairly active, working out regularly and playing basketball weekly. But I obviously use different muscles riding my bike, as is apparent when I resume riding each year. Riding home today was an added challenge because a stiff wind was blowing from the south, meaning that it was working against me most of the way home.

I like getting some exercise going back and forth to work. I guess I save a little money, also, but probably not enough to make the next van payment. Let's see, AAA calculates that in 2008 the cost of operating a minivan is around 60 cents per mile. At 6.2 miles for my round trip, this saves me $3.72 per day or nearly $82 a month if I bike every work day (22 days) during the month. Hmm, more than I thought. But I don't ride every single day, so I can probably realistically save $50 monthly for the five months I am able to bike to work. I guess I can nearly make one payment on my van after all!

Woeful Wodents

2008-05-11T15:37:00.005-05:00

For a time as a teen I raised hamsters and sold the babies to local pet stores. I was under the delusion that this could be a money making venture. Had I ever bothered to calculate the cost of cages, food, and bedding compared to how much I made selling baby hamsters, I would have been very clear that I was hopelessly in the red. And that didn't even count "accidents."

For example, one time my female hamster, Katy, somehow escaped her cage. I put out food and kept watch for her, thinking that sooner or later I would find her. And I was almost right. My Mom found my hamster ... making a new nest in her vacuum bag, through which Katy had chewed a hole to gain access. In her cage, Katy's bed was an old sock put over the end of an empty tissue core. Katy would crawl through the tunnel into the sock and sleep there. When she was out of her cage, I suppose the vacuum bag had a simlar texture and feel and Katy made her own tunnel to fashion a new bed.

I believe the new vacuum bag cost $45, which in 1967 was more than I could have ever hoped to earn selling baby hamsters. When Mom found Katy she said to me, "We won't tell your Dad about this." Thanks, Mom, for saving my life.

Another experience still makes me laugh when I think about it. Our South Jordan house had a very small closet just off the kitchen. One day my Mom opened the closet door and saw a mouse. The mouse, frightened out of its wits, took off running through the kitchen and into the living room with Mom in close pursuit with a broom. In the living room, the mouse ran behind the full-length curtain to hide and actually started climbing the curtain fabric as Mom tried to swat it with the broom. When Mom shook the curtain, the mouse fell to the floor and raced back across the living room, through the kitchen, and under the closet door to its original hiding place. Mom readied her broom and flung open the closet door to face her nemesis. The mouse, desperately trying to escape, ran straight at Mom in a frantic effort to get past her and find a safer hiding place. Mom jumped straight up in the air and came down right on the mouse, which promptly declared her the undisputed winner and never moved again. Mom immediately ran to the bathroom and threw up.

Color Blind

2008-05-10T11:58:00.005-05:00

It's always dangerous when I start painting because I am partially color blind. Once during a college break I went to work with my Uncle Bob and brother Gary for a couple of weeks. At that time Bob was finishing some pre-fabricated houses. These are built in two sections (imagine a house cut in half lengthwise) and the two pieces are set on the foundation and "stitched" together for a finished house.

Bob sent me to paint the seam of one house he had stitched together the previous day while he and Gary worked on another house across the street. The exterior siding is already painted except at the seam. When the two halves are connected, an unfinished strip of siding is installed over the seam and is then painted to match the rest of the house. Simple enough, I thought. So I went into the house, dutifully got the painting supplies, opened a can of paint and worked very hard painting the unfinished strips at both ends where the two sections were joined. When I finished, I went across the street to tell Bob I had completed the painting and to ask what he wanted me to do next.

When Bob came out of the house where he was working and looked across the street at my handiwork, he stopped dead in his tracks and was speechless for a moment. I had painted the entire exterior seam with the interior finish paint, which was a different color. He asked, "Couldn't you tell the difference between those colors?" Actually, no, I couldn't. So that ended my painting for pay career. Bob found something else for me to do.

I suggested to Mom that we hire someone to paint over the avocado green in Lindsey's old room, but she was reluctant to spend so much money when we could paint ourselves. So I covered the old paint with primer and told Mom to pick the color she wanted. She decided on a two-tone scheme, with the back wall a slightly darker contrasting color. Remembering my earlier experience with Bob, I decided to buy only the darker color and do the back wall first. But I promptly forgot and painted not only the back wall, but the doorway and adjoining side segment. Apparently there is no protecting a paint job from the likes of me.

Air Conditioner

2008-04-22T18:21:00.002-05:00

Our house is a little over twenty years old. Needless to say, so are the furnace and air conditioner. At what point will they need to be replaced? Maybe soon.

Today I had a technician service the air conditioner. I wanted to do this before the weather turns very hot in case there is a problem. Where possible, I would rather deal with the ounce of prevention than the pound of cure. Mom has expressed concern many times about how ugly our outside unit is. I am more concerned with how mechanically sound it is and how well it operates, but of course there is some correlation. It looks ugly because it has been exposed to the elements for so many years. And because it is so old, it is increasingly likely to malfunction.

And this may be the year. The technician said that he didn't see how the compressor had lasted so long. He also said he did not think it would last the summer.

So, do we gamble? Or do we bite the bullet and make the change while the weather is still pleasant? The neighbors on both sides have replaced their AC units in recent years. It really doesn't stand to reason that ours will last much longer. Perhaps we could get through one more season. This would give us time to plan for the expense. On the other hand, a new air conditioner would make a nice gift for Mother's Day, Father's Day, my birthday, and our thirtieth anniversary!

Did you know? An air conditioner is basically a refrigerator without a box. A refrigerator removes heat from an insulated cupboard to keep food cool or frozen and pumps the heat into your house. An air conditioner removes heat (and humidity) from inside the house to keep it cool. The cold air you can feel flowing from the ductwork is the result of heat being transferred outside. Evaporation and compression of gasses (like Freon) are responsible for this heat transfer. As the gas compresses, it liquifies and becomes hot (drawing heat from the house). Then it is circulated outside where the heat is dissapated. As it returns to a cooler gaseous state, it is circulated back inside to pick up more heat and repeats the process. So your refrigerator creates more work for your air conditioner, and your air conditioner creates less work for your refrigerator!

The beginnings of modern air conditioning go back to the 1820s, where experiments with compressing and liquefying gasses demonstrated the ability to cool air, and to the 1840s and the process of creating ice. The first modern air conditioner was invented in 1902, so the basic technology is over 100 years old!

Hey, Old Paint!

2008-04-12T13:11:00.004-05:00

This morning I got up very early and started moving things out of the front bedroom. Yes, I finally have begun the painting project so Mom can consolidate her things from downstairs and the small upstairs bedroom into one room. Between the ugly green carpet (what were we thinking???) and the even uglier green paint Lindsey chose for the walls, we have to do something. We aren't in a position just yet to replace the carpet, so we are going to repaint the walls.

Covering a dark color with something lighter is difficult and obviously requires more than one coat. I am starting with a coat of primer and will see if a single primer coat will be sufficient before applying the new color. I'll probably have to apply either a second coat of primer or two coats of the neutral (beige) color Mom chose for the room. I'm not sure what I am going to do about the places on the ceiling where the roller slipped and left bright green spots. Perhaps we will pin up some of Mom's photos as part of her decorating scheme.

Mom bought a six foot by nine foot beige area rug for the room. I believe she thinks she will have enough stuff along the walls that the area rug will cover the rest of the green carpet, so no one will even know it is there. Gee, this sounds just like when Lindsey was here. No one ever saw her carpet, either.

Enough, already ... Uncle!

2008-04-10T17:35:00.005-05:00

The weather forecast here is for snow

so it is time for a sun dance

Come on, spring!

This little piggy ...

2008-04-08T19:33:00.004-05:00

Well, the soaking worked and the toenail came off. Let the healing begin!

Toe: A part of the foot used to find furniture in the dark. (Rilla May)

2008-04-07T16:55:00.009-05:00

A couple of weeks ago my big toe was smashed while playing basketball (I know, I know ... I'm too old to be doing this!). Later in the day I noticed that my nail was floating on its bed, so I figured I would eventually lose the entire nail. And I am half right. As it turns out, the nail is loose all along the back, the left side, and most of the base of the nail. But it is still attached at the front and on part of the right side.

Now what do I do? I trimmed away most of the nail, but have this crescent-shaped piece that won't let go. I don't dare rip it off because it will hurt like ... nail! I guess I will try soaking it (while I watch the NCAA finals basketball championship tonight) to see if I can coax off the remaining piece. I can't believe I might have to go to the doctor to have the last small piece of the nail removed.

Mom's tongue is very sore from her valiant efforts not to say, "I told you so!" She got a little queasy when I showed her my toe. So out of respect for Emily I won't post a photo here.

Quick Trip to Utah

2008-04-04T17:14:00.003-05:00

Last year about this time I was bumped from an overbooked flight and received a travel voucher good for one year. I was thinking I would have to let the voucher expire unused when suddenly there arose a need and the opportunity to go to Utah. I jumped at the chance!

Travel vouchers don't qualify for the best airline routes, so my itinerary was not the most convenient. But it was still better -- and less expensive -- than driving. I flew from Des Moines to Cincinnati, where I had a long layover before the second leg to Salt Lake for a scheduled 9:30 PM arrival. But when I checked on my seat assignment in Cincinnati, the agent put me on an earlier flight and I arrived just after 7 PM. (Why didn't they offer me that when I booked my original flight???) On the way home I was scheduled to leave SLC at 9:30 PM, fly to Las Vegas, then to Atlanta, and arrive in Des Moines at 11 AM the next day. But the first leg was delayed and I didn't get away until 12:30 AM. Fortunately, I was able to bypass the leg to Las Vegas and go directly to Atlanta. I didn't get home any earlier, but had a simplified route.

I thought I would enjoy spring in Utah, but it snowed on three different days while I was there. In loading furniture into a pickup truck, I slipped on some ice and fell hard on my elbow. My forearm swelled up to a scary size and turned wonderful colors. When I got home, Mom was not pleased to learn that I hadn't gone to see a doctor. One week later my arm is still very discolored, but fortunately is not painful. We'll see how I do in basketball tomorrow.

I'm grateful I had the opportunity to spend time with my family. I was rather transient, sleeping in a different home each night. Thanks to everyone for making me welcome! It was fun to play with the grandchildren, pick up a few books from the clearance table at the LDS book stores, go shopping, attend Hanna's baptism service, and do a few "fix it" chores. I even enjoyed soaking in the jacuzzi at Mom's house ... how relaxing! And I was able to visit the Timpanogas temple, which I had not previously seen. The snow-frosted mountains in Utah are very beautiful. I think I'm a little homesick!

My next trip should be to welcome a new grandson in July. I can't wait ...

Mission ... impossible

2008-03-20T17:13:00.005-05:00

Long, long ago and in a galaxy far away (Arkansas) I worked for a time with Vietnamese refugees. From June to October in 1975 I lived in Barling, Arkansas (a bedroom community to Fort Smith) and spent my days at Fort Chaffee helping to resettle refugee families into communities throughout the country.

I ran across a couple of photos from that time. The first is with Santry Elmer, who was my companion during the time we worked in Arkansas. Eventually we were transferred to California, where we finished our assignment. This photo was taken in front of the chapel in Fort Smith.

The second is at the Fort Smith airport, where Elder Baxter and I are seeing off one of the Vietnamese families who are departing for their new home.

While working in Arkansas I celebrated my twenty first birthday around the time I first met Brenda. It's hard to believe that was over thirty years ago!

Yellowstone ... 1964

2008-03-11T18:21:00.003-05:00

Mom and I have enjoyed several trips to Yellowstone in recent years. Mom has some wonderful photos from these visits ... and can't wait to get back to take more. Perhaps she will post some of her photos or will allow me to include some here.

My only visit to Yellowstone as a child was the summer I turned ten years old ... I think. I remember celebrating my birthday in the park, but might not accurately remember which birthday it was. If I am correct, the year was 1964. My father was 32 , my had just turned 30, Wane was seven, and Gary was five.

This photo is of my Grandmother Allen, who came with us on this trip. My grandfather could not leave the farm, but Grandma Allen decided to come along -- very unusual for her. In those days visitors to the park routinely fed the bears. As a result, the bears were always in the campgrounds begging for food (not at all like today).

In this photo Grandma is 57 years old (not much older than I am now!). She is standing behind the car and to the side of someone taking pictures. Her face is half in the sun and half in the shadow. I notice in this photo that Grandma had curly hair. I don't remember this. What I do remember is that around the farm Grandma always wore an apron.

My mom has a motion picture of my grandmother (8 mm film; this predated video cameras) yelling at a herd of antelope and shooing them with her dress (my memory is of her shooing with her apron, but in reality it must have been her dress) trying to get them to move or run. When she realized that my father was pointing the camera at her and not at the antelope, Grandma was embarassed nearly to death! What fond memories I have of that trip and of having Grandma Allen along with us.

Daylight Saving Time

2008-03-08T21:42:00.004-06:00

Tonight we turn the clocks ahead one hour as the nation moves to Daylight Saving Time. So why am I up and not trying to go to bed an hour early? Because I simply must set the record straight and rant a little about one of my pet peeves. It is NOT Daylight Savings Time; it is Daylight Saving Time.

Think about it. What are we doing? We are saving daylight hours -- not savings daylight hours -- for the evening. Now, everyone clean up your act and say it right!

Here is a little background about the origin of this very controversial practice.

"The prominent English builder and outdoorsman William Willett invented DST in 1905 during one of his pre-breakfast horseback rides, when he observed with dismay how many Londoners slept through the best part of a summer day. An avid golfer, he also disliked cutting short his round at dusk. His solution was to advance the clock during the summer months, a proposal he published two years later. He lobbied unsuccessfully for the proposal until his death in 1915. Germany, itsWorld War I allies, and their occupied zones were the first European nations to use Willett's invention, starting April 30, 1916. Britain, most of its allies, and many European neutrals soon followed suit, Russia and a few other countries waited until the next year, and the United States adopted it in 1918." (from Wikipedia, Daylight Saving Time)

I enjoy Daylight Saving Time and wish we would adopt it permanently. If not, I wish we would stay on standard time permanently. I object to the changing back and forth each year.

Weather or not

2008-03-03T17:45:00.002-06:00

Yesterday the temperature in Urbandale was over 60 degrees. The sun was shining, the ice was breaking up, the snow was melting, and water was running down the gutters and streets. Could it be that spring had finally arrived?

Uh, no. This is Iowa.

This morning I woke up to the sound of beep-beep-beep. It sounded suspiciously like the city snow plow backing up. I looked outside to see fresh fallen snow. So I bundled up and went out to find 5-6 inches of heavy snow and a temperature of less than 20 degrees. This snow was too heavy to shovel, so it was out with the snowblower to clear the drive and sidewalks.

From the Des Moines register ten days ago (that is, before our last two snow storms!):

Iowa has received an average of 36.7 inches of snow this winter. That's a foot more than what is normal for this time of year and 4 inches more than the state usually receives for the entire winter season, which begins in November and ends - well, when it ends. This month, Iowa has received an average of 13.2 inches of snow. Normal: 6.3 inches. It's the highest February total since 1994 and the most for any month since December 2000, said Harry Hillaker, the state climatologist.

Two weeks ago I realized that winter had gone on far too long when I broke the handle on my ice scraper trying to clear the sidewalk at church. I give! Uncle! Bring on the warm weather!

Iowa Winter

2008-02-26T18:29:00.007-06:00

We seem to experience a winter storm every week. This week is no exception. Yesterday afternoon we had rain for a couple of hours. Then the low temperature turned the water to ice and a layer of snow fell. This morning the roads were treacherous. Winter can't last much longer, or so goes the conventional wisdom. I've yet to see signs of spring.

I am including some photos of Iowa winter (credit to several people who posted on KCCI.com).

Mom has photos of a bright red cardinal who visits our deck on a regular basis. It looks very much like this one (don't they all?).

Almost every night before the sun sets I see a herd of deer come out of the trees south of my office and feed in the field just across the street from our parking lot. I am fortunate to have a window panel in my cube that provides me an outside view. I brought my binoculars to work recently for a closer look. I don't know where this deer was feeding, but enjoyed seeing its long tongue scooping up seeds from the bird feeder.

This is the time of year when it is not unusual to see sun dogs. The other night we even had a moon dog, but I don't have a photo of that.

And here is what everything in Central Iowa looks like today -- ice covered, but beautiful!

No improvement (sigh)

2008-02-25T17:41:00.002-06:00

This is the third week of physical therapy to treat my plantar fasciitis. Unfortunately, I am not seeing the improvement for which I had hoped. Oh, I am back to wearing a regular shoe rather than the orthopedic boot I wore for a couple of months last year. And when I wake up in the morning I don't have to hobble as badly for the first few steps as I once did. But I'm not anywhere close to being back to normal.

The ultrasound treatments on my foot make no noticeable difference. And the one iontophoresis treatment I received last week actually seemed to make things worse for a day or two. My therapist keeps taping up my foot, but the tape makes me walk funny and my foot winds up more sore than it is without the tape. Could this be the end of basketball? Heck, could this be the end of walking without pain?

I keep telling Mom I need to come home from work every night to soak in a hot tub, send out for pizza, and go to bed early and keep my feet up. Mom tells me I can soak something, all right, but that it is attached to the other end of my body. I guess I am going have to take up video game basketball.

Eclipse

2008-02-21T17:20:00.004-06:00

Last night was a lunar eclipse. I called Mom to let her know that the eclipse would be full at 9:01 p.m. in case she wanted to take see it. I came home from church to find Mom bundled up in her coat sitting at the front of the garage in her wheelchair with the door open so she could see the moon above the trees in the island across the street from our house. While the sky was a little cloudy, Mom did get some photos of the eclipse. These are not Mom's photos, but were taken from Iowa and are similar to what we saw.

Unfortunately, Mom stayed out a little too long. When she came in the house her fingers were like icicles. I would not let her touch me! Instead, I helped her run lukewarm water over her hands until the pain diminished and she regained normal movement. I think this was a case of taking one's hobby a little too far!

More art

2008-02-18T11:57:00.004-06:00

Because of inclement weather over the weekend our church meetings were not held and I spent the day organizing my office and going through stacks of paper to decide what to toss and what to file. In doing so I found another invaluable piece of art to add to my blog collection, this time from Vaughn. Note the date of September 2006, which shows how long it has been since I went through my papers. I look forward to more priceless works of art for my growing collection!