Just a trim, please

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

Madame Butterfly

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

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

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?

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 ...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 ...

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

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

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!

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!