1968

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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!

The weather forecast here is for snow

so it is time for a sun dance

Come on, spring!

This little piggy ...

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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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)

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

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

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!

Maybe Mom is right???

I began physical therapy on Monday to treat the pain (diagnosed as plantar fasciitis) in the heel and arch of my left foot. On Wednesday I was at church after Mutual watching the Young Men play basketball while waiting to take two of them home. One of the players had to go home, leaving an odd number to finish their game. What else could I do but step in to even out the teams?

Unfortunately, I was wearing sandals and not athletic shoes. Even more unfortunately, I caught the toe of my sandal on the floor and bent my toe quite far forward. It didn’t even hurt much, at least until later that night. The next day my toe felt much better, but it didn’t look so good. I told Mom that I got a black eye on my toe.

Mom says it serves me right and that I ought finally to start acting my age. I think she means this as a compliment, even if it didn’t come out quite right.

Thanks, Autumn!

I was inundated with mail yesterday, including letters from Lisa, Lindsey, and my first ever letter from Autumn. I was so tickled to get four pictures Autumn drew on notebook paper in crayon. Because I am so proud of her artwork I scanned the drawings (though scanning doesn't do them justice) and include them here for your viewing pleasure.

# 1 of 4

# 2 of 4

# 3 of 4

# 4 of 4

Doctors thank us

As if Mom going for lymphedema treatments 2-3 times each week isn't bad enough, I have to start physical therapy on my foot twice a week for a month. When you do the math, it means that on average someone is going for medical help every week day! Now every time I see a Mercedes or Audi or BMW driving down the street I look to see if the driver is one of our doctors.

The good news is that my most recent foot x-ray showed no stress fracture, heel spur, or evidence of arthritis. So we are most likely dealing with inflammation and a high arch that needs more and better support. The physical therapy should help lessen the inflammation and strengthen the foot so I can hopefully get back to normal. I have to lay off basketball for awhile, of course. Maybe I will start sleeping in on Saturdays.

In addition to stretching and strengthening exercises, I will be getting ultrasound treatments and iontophoresis treatments. Here is some information about these treatments:

• Therapeutic ultrasound in physical therapy is a relatively low intensity technique that uses high-frequency sound waves (ultrasound) to speed healing in injured joint or muscle tissue.

• Iontophoresis is the process by which drugs, usually dexamethasone and lidocaine, are introduced into a joint or small body part via electrical current. It is non-invasive, painless and it eliminates potential side effects and adverse reactions which can occur with medications delivered orally or by injection." I saw this described in simpler terms as moving medication with electrical current. Here is what I believe this treatment will look like.

Anywho, it looks like we will both be getting our money's worth from our insurance premiums this year. Wish us luck!

A Leg to Stand On

I am very happy to announce that Mom completed the compression bandaging treatment on her left leg! Her leg is significantly improved and she is able to wear a compression stocking instead of the bulky wrap! Yeah, Brenda! Mom has a much improved leg to stand on.

Now Mom has started the same treatment on her right leg and probably faces the same month-long ordeal as with her left leg. While this hasn't been a lot of fun for her, we are very encouraged by the progress we have seen since the first of the year. None of the other doctors who treated Mom diagnosed this malady or suggested this treatment. We are very grateful for Mom's new pain management specialist who, in the initial consultation, sent Mom to the lymphedema center for care.

This photo is not of Mom (her leg was not nearly this swollen), but does give a fairly good idea of the improvement she experienced. You can see the swelling in the right leg of this person and the near-normal appearance in the left leg. I am amazed at the results for Mom in such a relatively short period of time.

When I was ordering supplies for Mom today, I came across something called a ReidSleeve (see below). This device provides compression with adjustable straps and eliminates the need for the layers of wrapping and bandaging. I was quite excited to think that this might be much easier for Mom -- until I saw that the price was almost $2,000! Maybe I can find one on craigslist ...

The Mummy

I am finally catching up after the delightful chaos of the holidays. We celebrated Christmas and welcomed Dustin into our family all in the same week. And we drove home in whiteout conditions across much of Wyoming (never again!). What a way to end the year.

Once everyone left for the West and our house was relatively quiet again, Mom began medical treatment for the swelling in her legs. Despite seeing our family doctor for years and also being treated by a pain management physician, no one suggested that Mom is afflicted with lymphoedema. At the first visit, her new pain management specialist immediately referred Mom to the Methodist lymphoedema center for care. So three times each week Mom undergoes compression bandaging to treat the swelling in her legs ... left leg now and right leg to follow. A good web page with information about lymphoedema and Mom's treatment is at http://www.lymphoedemasupport.com/treatment.php

I am being training in how to do the compression bandaging and therapeutic massage. I am still new at this, so it takes me over an hour each time I go through the wrapping. Here are some photos to illustrate parts of the process.

After applying a generous layer of lotion, Mom puts on a stockinette against the skin. This is a fine mesh stocking that goes from her toes all the way to her groin and protects the skin from the wrapping materials. Here is what the stockinette looks like (none of these photos are of Mom!).




Next a narrow gauze pad is used to wrap all the toes individually. I couldn't find an image of this for toes, but you can see what it looks like from this image of wrapped fingers.

Mom's foot is then covered by several layers of a very soft, fluffy cotton padding and a foam pad on the front of the ankle. Then a layer of thin gray foam pad six inches wide is spiral wrapped around the leg all the way from the ankle to the groin.

The foam is covered in several layers of very long compression bandages, seven bandages in all, from the toes to the groin. The compression bandages look like Ace bandages, but they don't stretch. The purpose is to provide a pressure gradient (greater pressure at the ankle and lessening pressure moving up the leg) to help the lymph system operate efficiently and circulate the fluid that otherwise collects in the lower leg, ankle, and foot.

Here is a look at the final product. You can see the stockinette pulled down over the top part of the compression bandages, which go all the way up to the groin. And if you look closely you can also see the toes wrapped individually. Once wrapped, Mom wears this for 2-3 days before going back to the center where she removes everything, washes up, and gets wrapped again!

Up, up and away!

One of my favorite memories from living in Kansas was watching the hot air balloons ascend from the schoolyard across the street. One balloon in particular launched from this site on a regular basis. The ballon was unbelievably large and the colors were brilliant. Brenda took this photo as the balloon was inflating. This was taking place directly across the street from our house. We always knew when the balloons were getting ready to launch and enjoyed a front row seat!

Broken Leg

When Ben was very young he was playing with his cousin in the bedroom. He jumped from his bed and landed on a toy, twisting his leg and sustaining a spiral fracture or "skier's break." This was unusual for one so very young and with such flexible bones. But it caused Ben a great deal of pain.


At first, we did not know Ben's leg was broken. When he did not stop crying we took him to the emergency room. An x-ray confirmed the break and Ben was given an injection to help with the pain. I made the mistake of watching as they inserted the needle, and for the next 45 minutes Ben and I were laid out next to each other on beds in the emergency room. After the doctor finished putting on Ben's cast and was ready to discharge him, the nurse would not let me walk out to the parking lot and drive the car up to the door. Brenda had to do this because the nurse didn't trust me to drive.


With the cast, Ben could no longer walk and he seemed to become depressed. I have often wondered if his thinking at such a tender age was that he would never be able to walk again. He certainly had gone from a very active, run everywhere at full speed lifestyle to instant immobility. Fortunately, his leg healed well and he was up and around again as usual.


Unfortunately, in removing Ben's cast the doctor scraped his leg with the saw and a large keloid formed over the scrape. For a time, we thought Ben would require plastic surgery on his leg to correct this condition. But as he grew the keloid became less prominent.


Here is a photo of Ben and his cute little cast.

Thanksgiving 2007

Today is Thanksgiving. I have much for which I am grateful, especially my children and their families. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I pray that Heavenly Father will continue to bless you in all that you do.

Because we were invited to a friend's home for Thanksgiving dinner, we did not prepare our typical meal. No turkey, no mashed potatoes and gravy, no marshmallow-topped sweet potatoes, and no three bean salad. Instead, we took some dishes with us to dinner to share with others.

Last year people seemed to like my frog-eye salad, so I prepared this again. I used a different recipe and wasn't sure how it would turn out, but it was delicious. I followed the directions for one batch that was supposed to feed 8-10 people. I did not know if that would be enough, so doubled the recipe. By the time I was finished I had enough frog eye salad to feed at least 30 people. Needless to say, we will be having this as a leftover for several days! Note: I can't find the Ancini de Pepe for this salad in the grocery stores here. I will need to pick up some more when I go to Utah for Christmas.

I also made deviled eggs. I could not find Lindsey's famous recipe, so faked it as best as I could. The most frustrating part about making deviled eggs is trying to get the shells off the hard-boiled eggs. Some shells slip right off while others seem glued on. Once I managed to remove the shells, I mixed the yolks with a little bit of this and a little bit of that until they tasted right. Then I wrapped them in several layers of plastic wrap to keep Mom out of them until the meal.

Finally, I prepared a glazed spiral sliced ham. This is so easy that even I can do it well. I poured the glaze on the ham and cooked it for three hours. Done!

We miss having our children here, but have very fond memories of the times we would all work together to prepare our Thanksgiving meals. Each child would have one part of the meal to prepare. Somehow the chaos trying to share kitchen space, pots and pans, stove burners, and the oven would all work out in the end and we would enjoy a wonderful meal. I miss those days. Today Brian joined the meal with us; we were very glad to have him present.

We enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday ... and are very grateful for all our blessings.

Sacrifice

In Stake Conference today President Nye reminded us that ours is a church of sacrifice, not a church of convenience. I just want it to be on the record that I did NOT go see Brian Regan perform this evening because it is the Sabbath (just like last time he came to Des Moines). So I certainly DID sacrifice -- again! (Sigh) I've got to figure out how to get him to come here on a day other than Sunday. Or I will have to have Laura record him next time he is in Utah and send me the recording. (Note: this is a joke and for any authorities who may read this I want to state emphatically that I am not in reality advocating any illegal taping or distribution activity.)

What a pain in the ... heel!

For the last few weeks I have been battling heel pain. My podiatrist diagnosed the problem as plantar fasciitis, which is Latin for "hurts like #@!$% when I get up in the morning and take my first steps or when I sit too long at my computer and get up to go eat." Mom's diagnosis is that I am "too old to still be playing basketball like a kid, and why don't you grow up and act your age."

As this diagram shows, the plantar tendon that runs along the bottom of the foot and attaches at the rear to the heel gets inflamed and causes quite a bit of pain.

I have been to see the doctor a couple of times. At the first visit he gave me some oral steroids and stretching exercises to do. When I came back for a second visit, he wanted to inject cortisone into my heel. I asked him what was Plan B. Then he gave me a boot to wear, as in this photo. So this is what I am now wearing to work and to church. I haven't been able to wear a normal shoe in several weeks.

Next he added a night splint, which I wear to bed to stretch the tendon while I am sleeping. None of this seems to be doing much good. I can't wait to see what the next visit brings. I suspect I will be getting the cortisone injection after all.

Between Mom and me, our house looks like a cross between a pharmacy and a durable medical equipment outlet. I don't know what hurts worse, my heel or not being able to play basketball.

Young Dad

Here are a few photos of my father as a young man. The first picture is a high school photo. My father was born on March 21, 1932. He graduated from high school at age 18 in 1950, so in this photo from the 1947-48 school year he was 15-16 years old.

I don't have dates for the next two photos. I believe the first one must have been either in Kentucky, where my parents lived for a short time while Dad was serving in the military, or in Tooele, where we lived when I was born and before moving to West Jordan. I say this because I know the wallpaper in West Jordan was a different pattern. In either case, this was very early in their marriage.

The last photo appears to be in the West Jordan house, but I would have to get Grandma O to verify the couch and curtains. I like this photo because of the big smile my Dad has on his face. When I look at this picture I am reminded of being told that my father suffered from rickets as a child (look at his chest).

My Three Sons

When I was young, I really enjoyed camping with my parents. As you can see from this photo, my Dad enjoyed a nap while camping more than I did.





Here is an unusual picture showing me on my favorite tricycle. What makes it unusual is that I appear to be throttling Uncle Wane and it looks like I have painted fingernails!





The final photo is the "My Three Sons" picture taken not long after Uncle Gary was born. I don't think I blame my parents for stopping after this gang.