One day last week I arrived at the office and looked for my keys I keep in my purse. They weren't there. We were busy throughout the day and evening so I didn't have a chance to look for them. The next day I looked in my music bag for the keys because that is the last place I remember having them. They weren't there.
Still not worried, but a little put out with myself, I started checking all my pockets. No keys. I checked all the drawers, chairs, floors. No keys. I didn't know where else to look. I told Jay, and he also checked where I had already done so. No keys. I decided that we would just have to go to the office again without the keys, and then come home and search more.
I went into the bathroom to get ready, and offered a quiet little prayer. I said I had looked everywhere and the keys weren't there. I asked for help. In the time it took to take a breath, in my mind I saw my red Scripture bag. I walked to the room where it was, saw my Bible in the bag, but nothing else. I was just about to turn around when I was told to look under the Bible. I lifted the Book out, and there were my keys!!!!! I have no idea how they got there. They were separated from the key ring that holds all my keys. I never put keys in my Scripture bag.
God answers prayers. Sometimes quickly, sometimes later. Sometimes "yes", sometimes "no", sometimes, "later".
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Friday, August 23, 2013
Guardian Angel?
I consider this to be too sacred to post on facebook but want to share with those more intimately encircled.
I have been blessed with many gifts. I have one gift that relates to this blog. I have sensed and seen spirits. Usually they are female. I know who some of them are, but others are not identified.
Lately I have "caught" one out of the corner of my eye, and it disappears quickly. One evening when Jay and I were returning home to our apartment, we stepped off the elevator and approached our door. Jay was fumbling with the lock when I looked up and saw a spirit someone turn and leave. Because of my previous experiences, I didn't really react. It was just "another spirit."
I have been quite ill with a cold this past week and hadn't left the apartment since last Sunday. Yesterday was Thursday. I have four piano students who are getting ready for a recital. I needed to be there for their lessons. The Ward choir scheduled a practice immediately after piano lessons. This means I was gone for a little over three hours. I was tired, considering I had just spent the past six days in bed. Returning home, I stepped out of the elevator, key in hand, to enter our apartment. There are about 10 steps from the elevator to our door, and when I had taken a little more than half of those steps, I looked up and again saw the same spirit who had been there earlier. I sensed that she was with me to see me safely home. It was very comforting. I don't know who she is. She could be someone who has a personal interest in me, but could be the one assigned to watch over us while we are serving a mission.
The one thing I know for certain from this experience, is that, I am not alone. I have protection at all times. I have a guard for even such simple things as leaving the apartment, crossing the street to Temple Square, and returning home to the presence of a Priesthood bearer. Is this perhaps one way how I share the priesthood? Is this evidence of the answer to all your prayers for our safety? Yes, I believe so.
I have been blessed with many gifts. I have one gift that relates to this blog. I have sensed and seen spirits. Usually they are female. I know who some of them are, but others are not identified.
Lately I have "caught" one out of the corner of my eye, and it disappears quickly. One evening when Jay and I were returning home to our apartment, we stepped off the elevator and approached our door. Jay was fumbling with the lock when I looked up and saw a spirit someone turn and leave. Because of my previous experiences, I didn't really react. It was just "another spirit."
I have been quite ill with a cold this past week and hadn't left the apartment since last Sunday. Yesterday was Thursday. I have four piano students who are getting ready for a recital. I needed to be there for their lessons. The Ward choir scheduled a practice immediately after piano lessons. This means I was gone for a little over three hours. I was tired, considering I had just spent the past six days in bed. Returning home, I stepped out of the elevator, key in hand, to enter our apartment. There are about 10 steps from the elevator to our door, and when I had taken a little more than half of those steps, I looked up and again saw the same spirit who had been there earlier. I sensed that she was with me to see me safely home. It was very comforting. I don't know who she is. She could be someone who has a personal interest in me, but could be the one assigned to watch over us while we are serving a mission.
The one thing I know for certain from this experience, is that, I am not alone. I have protection at all times. I have a guard for even such simple things as leaving the apartment, crossing the street to Temple Square, and returning home to the presence of a Priesthood bearer. Is this perhaps one way how I share the priesthood? Is this evidence of the answer to all your prayers for our safety? Yes, I believe so.
Tender Mercy and the Loose Screw
Eyeglasses are as much a part of me as the eyes they assist. Only recently have I been able to remove them and be satisfied with the vision I have, thanks to cataract surgery and a little correction within.
The more frequent removal may have something to do with this story, for perhaps the more constant change in pressure on the joints of the glasses caused a reaction. I have never had much problem with my glasses over my life, other than the breaking of older frames, or their slipping down my nose. I was not aware of things that could go wrong. It was liberating to find joints on frames that were flexible, yet would hug my face firmly. That is my priority when shopping for frames.
Recently, over the past six months, I have thought these temple pieces were getting a little loose, but nothing seemed to be a problem. One day as we were ready to leave the apartment, my lens fell out onto the table. I was able to snap it back in, and with the "snap" I thought everything was purely accident. A month ago it fell out again, and I couldn't make it stay in. There was no "snap". Jay put it in and said, "Be careful." Last week I went to get my glasses and found them on the table with the lens lying beside the frame. After trying half a dozen times unsuccessfully to correct the problem, I sat down to closely inspect them. I discovered that the screw that connects the lower part of the frame to the upper part, hence securing the lens, had come apart. I quickly found a screw driver small enough, tightened all the loose screwS, and realized my tender mercy.
The tender mercy of all this, is that the screw was still there, that the final breaking point was safely in our apartment, on the table. In all the walking and bus travel, and touring we had done in those six months, all the removing and putting on occasions, and the manipulations to replace the lens, that screw was STILL THERE! Even in the apartment, it happened while LYING ON THE TABLE! Anywhere else but there would have been bad news.
The more frequent removal may have something to do with this story, for perhaps the more constant change in pressure on the joints of the glasses caused a reaction. I have never had much problem with my glasses over my life, other than the breaking of older frames, or their slipping down my nose. I was not aware of things that could go wrong. It was liberating to find joints on frames that were flexible, yet would hug my face firmly. That is my priority when shopping for frames.
Recently, over the past six months, I have thought these temple pieces were getting a little loose, but nothing seemed to be a problem. One day as we were ready to leave the apartment, my lens fell out onto the table. I was able to snap it back in, and with the "snap" I thought everything was purely accident. A month ago it fell out again, and I couldn't make it stay in. There was no "snap". Jay put it in and said, "Be careful." Last week I went to get my glasses and found them on the table with the lens lying beside the frame. After trying half a dozen times unsuccessfully to correct the problem, I sat down to closely inspect them. I discovered that the screw that connects the lower part of the frame to the upper part, hence securing the lens, had come apart. I quickly found a screw driver small enough, tightened all the loose screwS, and realized my tender mercy.
The tender mercy of all this, is that the screw was still there, that the final breaking point was safely in our apartment, on the table. In all the walking and bus travel, and touring we had done in those six months, all the removing and putting on occasions, and the manipulations to replace the lens, that screw was STILL THERE! Even in the apartment, it happened while LYING ON THE TABLE! Anywhere else but there would have been bad news.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
"Paid by the Animal" Game
One week our family drove to Yellowstone Park. My dad drove, my mother read the map and handed us sandwiches and drinks. My brother Jim sat on one side of the back seat and I sat on the other side. Jim liked to tease me, especially in ways that my parents couldn't see. I would squeal and object, and when my parents had heard enough, my dad would pick the hairbrush that always seemed to be in the front seat, reach over the seat and try to make us stop making noise (me, and not my fault). They never told Jim to stop teasing, only told me to stop making noise. Well, Jim was bored and he was about 14 or 15 years old. I was somewhere around nine. The second day was very cloudy and a little rainy. We were driving some more, and Jim was getting ready to start teasing. My mother sensed this and made up a new game. She said, " Look out the window for wild animals. I will give you five cents for one kind, 10 cents for another kind, and 25 cents for even another. We had not seen one single wild animal up to that point. Even on earlier trips to The Park, we hadn't seen more than a few bears, an elk or two, and perhaps a bison. I think she was planning on that and could afford that much change. Soon, we came around a bend in the road and spied a whole herd of elk. We couldn't even count them all. There must have been a hundred of them. It wasn't too long before we drove by a herd of bison. Boy, Jim and I were really excited by now! My parents weren't so excited for some reason. We saw five or six bear, and a few eagles. We never did collect our earnings, but the experience created a great memory. I have never again seen the same population of wild animals in a single day in The Park
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Valued Lesson
There are some things in this world you can only learn by hard work. Where do you learn to work hard? I think it is a combination of things: work ethic, desire, need, and maybe some more.
I learned my work ethic from the need and desire to accomplish things that werent getting done by overwhelmed parents. I learned to carry through from my piano teacher. I learned to finish projects from school teachers. Not all were fun. Not many were of my choosing. Some motivation was personal, some was by prod or reward. My husband learned from a desire to make things better. He learned from the necessities of poverty. He learned to depend upon himself for motivation.
My children learned their work ethic from their parents. With a family growing larger every few years, there were always things to be washed, picked up, and made better. With hungry mouths to feed came a garden that enlarged a few feet every year. Each growing foot of garden produced more weeds. Those weeds needed to be removed. Those children learned to weed to the end of the row. They learned to clean, wash, pick up and make better till the job was done. They complained. They procrastinated. They unwillingly obeyed. And now, they praise their parents for having had these experiences. Hopefully they are passing these lessons learned on to their children.
I just recentlly came across a Desert News article about work ethic/children, and I would like to share a piece of it. If I had memorizing skills intact, I would memorize it. This is a poem by Douglas Malloch:
" Bill Brown made a million,
Bill Brown, think of that!
A boy, you remember, as poor as a rat.
Who hoed for the neighbors, did jobs by the day,
Well Bill's made a million, or near it, they say.
You cant understand it, well neither could I.
And then I remembered, and now I know why.
The bell might be ringing, the dinner horn blow,
But Bill always hoed to the end of the row."
I learned my work ethic from the need and desire to accomplish things that werent getting done by overwhelmed parents. I learned to carry through from my piano teacher. I learned to finish projects from school teachers. Not all were fun. Not many were of my choosing. Some motivation was personal, some was by prod or reward. My husband learned from a desire to make things better. He learned from the necessities of poverty. He learned to depend upon himself for motivation.
My children learned their work ethic from their parents. With a family growing larger every few years, there were always things to be washed, picked up, and made better. With hungry mouths to feed came a garden that enlarged a few feet every year. Each growing foot of garden produced more weeds. Those weeds needed to be removed. Those children learned to weed to the end of the row. They learned to clean, wash, pick up and make better till the job was done. They complained. They procrastinated. They unwillingly obeyed. And now, they praise their parents for having had these experiences. Hopefully they are passing these lessons learned on to their children.
I just recentlly came across a Desert News article about work ethic/children, and I would like to share a piece of it. If I had memorizing skills intact, I would memorize it. This is a poem by Douglas Malloch:
" Bill Brown made a million,
Bill Brown, think of that!
A boy, you remember, as poor as a rat.
Who hoed for the neighbors, did jobs by the day,
Well Bill's made a million, or near it, they say.
You cant understand it, well neither could I.
And then I remembered, and now I know why.
The bell might be ringing, the dinner horn blow,
But Bill always hoed to the end of the row."
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Just for Laughs
There is a senior missionary here who related the following story. I dont know if it is true or not, as this particular missionary tells a lot of things that arent true. He is a bona fide leg-puller.
It was Fast Sunday. The congregation participated, each in his own way. Some bore testimonies from the pulpit, others gained strength from those audibly borne. It came time for the meeting to end when a sister jumped up and walked quickly to the pulpit. As she proceeded with her testimony, she became a little weepy. She did the little hand flutter thing and wiped away a tear or two. In closing, she apologized in a shaky voice for being such a big boob, but couldnt help it. Then she returned to her seat in the congregation.
The bishop got up to close the meeting. His first comment was directed toward this weepy member, "That's alright, Sister ......., my counselors and I like big boobs."
It was just seconds till he realized what he had said and he was embarassed.
It was Fast Sunday. The congregation participated, each in his own way. Some bore testimonies from the pulpit, others gained strength from those audibly borne. It came time for the meeting to end when a sister jumped up and walked quickly to the pulpit. As she proceeded with her testimony, she became a little weepy. She did the little hand flutter thing and wiped away a tear or two. In closing, she apologized in a shaky voice for being such a big boob, but couldnt help it. Then she returned to her seat in the congregation.
The bishop got up to close the meeting. His first comment was directed toward this weepy member, "That's alright, Sister ......., my counselors and I like big boobs."
It was just seconds till he realized what he had said and he was embarassed.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Those Neighbors!
Our neighbors on Walnut Street were the McCarrans on the south. The Kalepps lived on the other side. The Dad was named Footsy, and my friend's name was Linda.
McCarrans daughter, Patty, was about a year older than I, and knew more things than I did. I had a pair of roller skates and was just learning to use them. I think I put them on for the first time when Patty asked if she could skate, too. Well, what do you do when two little girls want to skate and there is only one pair of skates? Right. You share. Our solution was for each of us to wear one skate. It was a lot easier that way. We pushed on the grass with one foot while the foot with the skate rolled on the sidewalk.
One day, in the morning, I went out the front door, carrying a box of cereal. I was going to eat it right from the box. My mama said it was okay. I was standing in the yard, eating puffed rice by the handful when Mrs McCarran came out. She saw me eating right from the box and told me that I should take it back into the house. She said my mama wouldnt want me to be doing that. I didnt pay any attention to her, because I knew my mama didnt care. Mrs. McCarran called my mama on the telephone and pretty soon I had to go in. I ate my cereal out of the box in the house.
Linda Kalepp was younger than I was, and still slept in a crib. I slept in a big girl's bed. This was the first time I remember seeing a crib and was fascinated by it. I didnt say anything, but Mrs. Kalepp asked me if I would like to get into the crib. I said yes,and she lifted me into it. I sat there for a few minutes and then she lifted me back out.
One morning I went over to see if Linda could play. She was still eating breakfast. She didnt want to eat. Her mama asked me if I would like to eat her breakfast. I said yes, because it was a soft boiled egg, and I loved them. I felt sorry that Linda wouldnt eat it, but I was very happy to help her.
During World War II it was very hard to get food. The food went to the soldiers. People were asked to plant little gardens in their yards to help feed their families. The Kalepps planted their garden right next to the picket fence between our back yards. In the middle of the summer, I noticed that their garden had nice green leaves. I pulled one up, and to my surprise, there was a carrot attached! I liked carrots. The carrot was really good. I pulled another and ate it. I thought that was enough for one day. The next day I pulled a few more. When I did that the third day, I thought I had better save some for them, so didnt pick any more.
Patty lived across the alley. I didnt know her very well, but we played together a few times. One afternoon, we played in her yard for a really long time. It was getting dark. When she went in for dinner, I went home. My mama and daddy were very angry with me because they didnt know where I was. I had to go to bed without any dinner.
The Liddiards lived next the the Kalepps. All the kids in their family were really big and old. Some were even teen agers. One of them was our babysitter a few times. We didnt really need a babysitter because Jim was eleven years old. That is what Jim and I thought. One day the babysitter took me downtown with her. She took me on the tram. The tram is a short train that ran the length of the town and out to the smelter where our dads worked. My mama didnt want me to ride the tram, and when I told her what an exciting day I had, she got mad at the babysitter and we never had her again.
Next to the Liddiards, on the corner there was a little girl about my age. I dont know what her name was, I dont think I knew even then. She and I played in her house. She had a little table just her size, and she had a coloring book and crayons. I had never seen such things before. I went back to her house to color in her book.
Timmy Sullivan lived around the corner, across the street from the store. He had a dog named Georgie. I had just learned the poem, Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie; Kissed the girls and made them cry. I didnt understand how a dog could kiss girls, and why they would cry. Timmy had some baby cereal called Pablum in his basement. We tried it, but it wasnt very good. We fed it to Georgie, who seemed to like it.
Kathy McMahon lived next to Timmy. She had a big brother named John, and a big sister named Gertrude. John was mean. He took my stuffed rabbit that the Easter Bunny brought. My brother went to his house and got my rabbit back. Gertrude had make-up in her room. Kathy and went in there and decorated ourselves. We painted our fingernails with her nail polish. We tried very hard not to spill, but we were just little girls. Gertrude (we called her Gerchoode) was REALLY mad at us.
McCarrans daughter, Patty, was about a year older than I, and knew more things than I did. I had a pair of roller skates and was just learning to use them. I think I put them on for the first time when Patty asked if she could skate, too. Well, what do you do when two little girls want to skate and there is only one pair of skates? Right. You share. Our solution was for each of us to wear one skate. It was a lot easier that way. We pushed on the grass with one foot while the foot with the skate rolled on the sidewalk.
One day, in the morning, I went out the front door, carrying a box of cereal. I was going to eat it right from the box. My mama said it was okay. I was standing in the yard, eating puffed rice by the handful when Mrs McCarran came out. She saw me eating right from the box and told me that I should take it back into the house. She said my mama wouldnt want me to be doing that. I didnt pay any attention to her, because I knew my mama didnt care. Mrs. McCarran called my mama on the telephone and pretty soon I had to go in. I ate my cereal out of the box in the house.
Linda Kalepp was younger than I was, and still slept in a crib. I slept in a big girl's bed. This was the first time I remember seeing a crib and was fascinated by it. I didnt say anything, but Mrs. Kalepp asked me if I would like to get into the crib. I said yes,and she lifted me into it. I sat there for a few minutes and then she lifted me back out.
One morning I went over to see if Linda could play. She was still eating breakfast. She didnt want to eat. Her mama asked me if I would like to eat her breakfast. I said yes, because it was a soft boiled egg, and I loved them. I felt sorry that Linda wouldnt eat it, but I was very happy to help her.
During World War II it was very hard to get food. The food went to the soldiers. People were asked to plant little gardens in their yards to help feed their families. The Kalepps planted their garden right next to the picket fence between our back yards. In the middle of the summer, I noticed that their garden had nice green leaves. I pulled one up, and to my surprise, there was a carrot attached! I liked carrots. The carrot was really good. I pulled another and ate it. I thought that was enough for one day. The next day I pulled a few more. When I did that the third day, I thought I had better save some for them, so didnt pick any more.
Patty lived across the alley. I didnt know her very well, but we played together a few times. One afternoon, we played in her yard for a really long time. It was getting dark. When she went in for dinner, I went home. My mama and daddy were very angry with me because they didnt know where I was. I had to go to bed without any dinner.
The Liddiards lived next the the Kalepps. All the kids in their family were really big and old. Some were even teen agers. One of them was our babysitter a few times. We didnt really need a babysitter because Jim was eleven years old. That is what Jim and I thought. One day the babysitter took me downtown with her. She took me on the tram. The tram is a short train that ran the length of the town and out to the smelter where our dads worked. My mama didnt want me to ride the tram, and when I told her what an exciting day I had, she got mad at the babysitter and we never had her again.
Next to the Liddiards, on the corner there was a little girl about my age. I dont know what her name was, I dont think I knew even then. She and I played in her house. She had a little table just her size, and she had a coloring book and crayons. I had never seen such things before. I went back to her house to color in her book.
Timmy Sullivan lived around the corner, across the street from the store. He had a dog named Georgie. I had just learned the poem, Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie; Kissed the girls and made them cry. I didnt understand how a dog could kiss girls, and why they would cry. Timmy had some baby cereal called Pablum in his basement. We tried it, but it wasnt very good. We fed it to Georgie, who seemed to like it.
Kathy McMahon lived next to Timmy. She had a big brother named John, and a big sister named Gertrude. John was mean. He took my stuffed rabbit that the Easter Bunny brought. My brother went to his house and got my rabbit back. Gertrude had make-up in her room. Kathy and went in there and decorated ourselves. We painted our fingernails with her nail polish. We tried very hard not to spill, but we were just little girls. Gertrude (we called her Gerchoode) was REALLY mad at us.
Ray Paul's Fault
I was only two and a half. Ray Paul was about one and a half, and could walk pretty well. Ray Paul lived next door to us. He had a big sister named Patty. She was about three and a half. Sometimes I played with Patty at her house. Her mom had a big jar of candy right next to the front door and sometimes she would let us have one piece.
It was summer and it was hot. My mama was running water onto the lawn from the hose. She went into the house, and I stayed outside. I picked up the hose to help water the lawn. It was fun to make the water go high or low. Mrs McCarran put Ray Paul out to play and he came over to watch me water the lawn. I turned a little to change the water, and Ray Paul was right in the way and got all wet. His mama came out, saw him all wet, and took him in.
Soon Ray Paul came out again, with different clothes on. I was still watering. He came over again. I turned again. He was in the way again. He got wet again. His mama came out again. This time she said something to me, but I didnt understand her.
Ray Paul came out for the third time, with more different clothes on. I wasnt finished watering. He wasnt finished watching me. I had to water a different spot. He was in the way and got wet. His mama came out and she was mad. She yelled at me. I didnt know why she was mad at me, because it was Ray Paul who kept getting in the way. He didnt come out again, but I was finished watering anyway, so went into the house to find something else to do.
It was summer and it was hot. My mama was running water onto the lawn from the hose. She went into the house, and I stayed outside. I picked up the hose to help water the lawn. It was fun to make the water go high or low. Mrs McCarran put Ray Paul out to play and he came over to watch me water the lawn. I turned a little to change the water, and Ray Paul was right in the way and got all wet. His mama came out, saw him all wet, and took him in.
Soon Ray Paul came out again, with different clothes on. I was still watering. He came over again. I turned again. He was in the way again. He got wet again. His mama came out again. This time she said something to me, but I didnt understand her.
Ray Paul came out for the third time, with more different clothes on. I wasnt finished watering. He wasnt finished watching me. I had to water a different spot. He was in the way and got wet. His mama came out and she was mad. She yelled at me. I didnt know why she was mad at me, because it was Ray Paul who kept getting in the way. He didnt come out again, but I was finished watering anyway, so went into the house to find something else to do.
Walkin' With My Daddy
When I was little, shoes only came in two colors, brown or white, otherwise, they looked just the same. I had white ones. They were kind of like boots because they went up past my ankle bones, and tied up the front with white laces. They were kind of stiff, especially when they were new.
One day, when I had shoes that were pretty new, Daddy asked me to go to the store with him. The store was less than a block away, across a street. Daddy held my hand. I had to reach up high to hold his hand. He walked slowly because I didnt take very big steps.
I watched his feet walking and saw that his brown shoes would bend in front of the shoelaces when he stepped. I didnt walk like that. My shoes didnt bend when I walked. I thought that I would try to walk like Daddy. It was hard to remember to bend my shoes, but I tried really hard, and was able to do it most of the time. On the way home from the store, I was able to bend my shoes really well.
Now I was a bigger girl because I walked like a big girl.
One day, when I had shoes that were pretty new, Daddy asked me to go to the store with him. The store was less than a block away, across a street. Daddy held my hand. I had to reach up high to hold his hand. He walked slowly because I didnt take very big steps.
I watched his feet walking and saw that his brown shoes would bend in front of the shoelaces when he stepped. I didnt walk like that. My shoes didnt bend when I walked. I thought that I would try to walk like Daddy. It was hard to remember to bend my shoes, but I tried really hard, and was able to do it most of the time. On the way home from the store, I was able to bend my shoes really well.
Now I was a bigger girl because I walked like a big girl.
Getting High
Our block had many old cottonwood trees. They were very tall, and the branches were pretty close together. Some of them had branches low enough that if I reached up really high, I could hold onto them.
Mrs. Wellcome, who lived on the corner, had the very best tree for climbing. The lowest branch was just perfect for getting a hand hold, then swinging a leg over. Then as soon as I was on that first branch, I could find my way to the top. The tree smelled really good, kind of sour/sweet. The green leaves were big and dark green and a little sticky from sap. The branches were kind of smooth as soon as I got started climbing.
Some branches were really easy to climb to, but others were pretty hard and I had to figure out how to get up to the next one. The higher I got, the thinner the branches became. I continued climbing till the branches were so thin that they would break if I stepped on them. I would sit up there, enjoying my successful climb, the solitude of being the only one around, and the pride of being the only one who could climb so high. On one of the earliest climbs, I used my pocket knife to carve my initials up high into the trunk. Every time I climbed, I would check on that spot to see if it needed some work.
When I was ready, I started my descent. I had to remember which branches led to the next lower one. This was a good game of memory, physical strength, and planning. Eventually, I reached the lowest branch, lay down on it with my hands clasped together, then swung my legs over the side, and freeing my hands, I dropped to the ground. I was a good tree climber.
Mrs. Wellcome, who lived on the corner, had the very best tree for climbing. The lowest branch was just perfect for getting a hand hold, then swinging a leg over. Then as soon as I was on that first branch, I could find my way to the top. The tree smelled really good, kind of sour/sweet. The green leaves were big and dark green and a little sticky from sap. The branches were kind of smooth as soon as I got started climbing.
Some branches were really easy to climb to, but others were pretty hard and I had to figure out how to get up to the next one. The higher I got, the thinner the branches became. I continued climbing till the branches were so thin that they would break if I stepped on them. I would sit up there, enjoying my successful climb, the solitude of being the only one around, and the pride of being the only one who could climb so high. On one of the earliest climbs, I used my pocket knife to carve my initials up high into the trunk. Every time I climbed, I would check on that spot to see if it needed some work.
When I was ready, I started my descent. I had to remember which branches led to the next lower one. This was a good game of memory, physical strength, and planning. Eventually, I reached the lowest branch, lay down on it with my hands clasped together, then swung my legs over the side, and freeing my hands, I dropped to the ground. I was a good tree climber.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Chicken Cookies
My friend invited me to go with her and her mom and dad to visit someone who lived west of town. I was surprised to see that they lived on a farm. I had never been on a farm before.
We all visited for a few minutes in the living room, then my friend and I had permission to go outside. We were told not to sit on the basketball. I thought this was an odd thing. I had never thought of sitting on a basketball. I think they thought it would go flat if we sat on it. So we looked around for something to do.
Farms have a lot of things that I had never seen before. There was a whole lot of yard, and then even more past the grass that was mostly dirt. There were little sheds, and some of these sheds had chickens sitting in them. We looked in, but it was too stinky. Sitting next to the chickens' house was a cloth bag with seeds in it. We found a couple eggs. I didnt know that chickens had something to do with eggs. All our eggs came in a little box and were in the fridge. These eggs were warm and kind of dirty.
We decided to make cookies. For flour we used dirt. For nuts and raisins we used the seeds in the bag. There was water set out for the chickens to drink, so we used some for our cookies. We knew that cookies had to have eggs, so we broke all the eggs we could find into our cookie mix, then stirred it up with sticks.
We were just about finished when my friend's family came looking for us. The farm lady saw our cookie mix and was not at all happy. We didnt know why. We were bundled into the car for a silent ride home.
I was never invited to visit with them again.
We all visited for a few minutes in the living room, then my friend and I had permission to go outside. We were told not to sit on the basketball. I thought this was an odd thing. I had never thought of sitting on a basketball. I think they thought it would go flat if we sat on it. So we looked around for something to do.
Farms have a lot of things that I had never seen before. There was a whole lot of yard, and then even more past the grass that was mostly dirt. There were little sheds, and some of these sheds had chickens sitting in them. We looked in, but it was too stinky. Sitting next to the chickens' house was a cloth bag with seeds in it. We found a couple eggs. I didnt know that chickens had something to do with eggs. All our eggs came in a little box and were in the fridge. These eggs were warm and kind of dirty.
We decided to make cookies. For flour we used dirt. For nuts and raisins we used the seeds in the bag. There was water set out for the chickens to drink, so we used some for our cookies. We knew that cookies had to have eggs, so we broke all the eggs we could find into our cookie mix, then stirred it up with sticks.
We were just about finished when my friend's family came looking for us. The farm lady saw our cookie mix and was not at all happy. We didnt know why. We were bundled into the car for a silent ride home.
I was never invited to visit with them again.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Away In A Manger
I was just three or four years old. I had a new dress with black velvet on the top and little lambs on a dark blue background for the bodice and skirt. It was very pretty.
One day in December, my mama told me that I was supposed to learn a song for the children's Christmas pageant at the church. Our family didnt go to church very often, so I didnt learn the songs in Sunday School. My mama knew the song and taught it to me. I knew every word and could sing the melody without any mistakes. I was ready for this pageant. I didnt know what a pageant was, but I was willing to go to it.
The pageant was going to be a play about baby Jesus and when He was born. Some of the kids wore white sheets and gold Christmas tree decorations. Other kids wore bathrobes and towels on their heads and carried sticks. One girl wore a blue cloth over her head and just sat next to a funny-looking box with a doll in it. I would have liked to bring my doll for her to look at.
When it was time to sing Away in A Manger, I stood up with the kids in normal Sunday clothes. I got to be in the front because I was small. The big kids stood in the back row. The piano started to play, the lady told us when to start. We all started together, but soon it was apparent that something was wrong. I was singing a different melody. I thought all those kids were wrong, so I sang a little louder to help them get it right. They wouldnt listen! I sang a little louder. They still wouldnt listen, so I decided to just sing and they would be sad that they sang the wrong song.
It wasnt till many years later that I learned that there are more than two versions of the melody for the same words. Good for me for sticking to my guns. It showed a streak of some kind: stubborn, stand up for myself, helpful..........
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Brown Sugar Sandwiches
I lived next door to a family of five girls and three boys. Four of the girls were close to my age, the fifth was a little too young for me. Our houses were right next to a hill, and on top of the hill was the cemetary. Very often we would visit the cemetary to read the names and dates on the headstones. We would figure out how old they were when they died. We would wonder about them. The cemetary was a very peaceful place and we liked going there.
Often we would take a picnic up to the cemetary and sit on the grass and enjoy ourselves. I started out with peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches because that was the only kind of sandwich I knew about. My friends shared their sandwich ideas with me. One was butter and brown sugar. You put lots of butter on the bread, sprinkle lots of brown sugar on,then cover it with another piece of bread. Another sandwich was fried Spam. Spam comes in a can. It is ham that is all ground up and pressed back together again. I never heard of it before. You slice a piece about one fourth inch thick and fry it till it turns a little bit brown. Put the fried Spam on a piece of bread, pour lots of Ketchup over it and cover it with the other piece of bread. I learned about honey mixed with peanutbutter. I liked it better than jelly. I learned that you could fry an egg, break the yolk so it can spread all over the white, salt and pepper it, add lots of ketchup to it and eat it between two pieces of bread. It is good cold or warm.
I still make these sandwiches and really like them, but my favorite sandwich is a hamburger. I have many happy memories that involve sandwiches, so eating each one is an emotional feast,too.
Often we would take a picnic up to the cemetary and sit on the grass and enjoy ourselves. I started out with peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches because that was the only kind of sandwich I knew about. My friends shared their sandwich ideas with me. One was butter and brown sugar. You put lots of butter on the bread, sprinkle lots of brown sugar on,then cover it with another piece of bread. Another sandwich was fried Spam. Spam comes in a can. It is ham that is all ground up and pressed back together again. I never heard of it before. You slice a piece about one fourth inch thick and fry it till it turns a little bit brown. Put the fried Spam on a piece of bread, pour lots of Ketchup over it and cover it with the other piece of bread. I learned about honey mixed with peanutbutter. I liked it better than jelly. I learned that you could fry an egg, break the yolk so it can spread all over the white, salt and pepper it, add lots of ketchup to it and eat it between two pieces of bread. It is good cold or warm.
I still make these sandwiches and really like them, but my favorite sandwich is a hamburger. I have many happy memories that involve sandwiches, so eating each one is an emotional feast,too.
Grandma "Annie Oakley"
One Sunday our family drove two hours to Helena, Montana, to Aunt Harriet's house. We went with them on a picnic to Gates of the Mountain. This is a place where you can get on a big boat and drive up from one lake to another. We were waiting for the boat, so Daddy brought out his .22 rifle and .22 pistol out. He set up some things to shoot at, and one of the things was a little cigarette packet with a round, red circle on it, just like a target. Everybody had a turn shooting at the targets. When it was my turn, Daddy held the rifle for me because I wasnt strong enough to hold it by myself. I was only six years old. He told me how to look down the top of the barrel and point it at the little cigarette packet. I did just what he said, squeezed the trigger that made the bullet fly toward the target. It was very loud. When they brought the target back, there was a little hole right in the middle. I had shot a bullseye! That is a very hard thing to do, and I was just a little girl. I guess I am a pretty good shot.
A Funny Thing
One day our family went on a picnic in the woods, near the little creek. It was hot that day, even in the mountains where we were. Mother and Daddy told us to go play while they took naps, but said that we should not go near the water.
My brother was about eleven or twelve years old. He was very skinny. He was playing near the creek and he lost his balance and fell in. The water was very cold. He climbed out but his clothes were as wet as a washcloth in bathwater. We didnt bring any extra clothes for any of us. We didnt have sweaters or jackets or blankets. The only blanket there was, was the one under Mama and Daddy.
Our parents woke up really fast and used the blanket to dry my brother a little, but his clothes were still very wet. My mother only had one thing that she considered "extra", her rubber girdle. A girdle was like really tight panties that held your tummy tight. It had little dangly things called garters that pantyhose attached to. She hid behind the car and took it off. My dad put Jim into the car and told him to take his clothes off. Then he took the girdle from Mama, handed it to Jim and told him to put it on till they could dry his clothes near the fire. When Jim came from the car, he was holding the white, rubber girdle by both hands and looking very disturbed. It was so big that two of him could have fit into it.
I couldnt help it, I started giggling, then burst out laughing and laughing. His skinny, white legs with knobby knees just looked soooo funny. And the look on his face was soooo funny. I still laugh and it is still fresh in my memory.
My brother was about eleven or twelve years old. He was very skinny. He was playing near the creek and he lost his balance and fell in. The water was very cold. He climbed out but his clothes were as wet as a washcloth in bathwater. We didnt bring any extra clothes for any of us. We didnt have sweaters or jackets or blankets. The only blanket there was, was the one under Mama and Daddy.
Our parents woke up really fast and used the blanket to dry my brother a little, but his clothes were still very wet. My mother only had one thing that she considered "extra", her rubber girdle. A girdle was like really tight panties that held your tummy tight. It had little dangly things called garters that pantyhose attached to. She hid behind the car and took it off. My dad put Jim into the car and told him to take his clothes off. Then he took the girdle from Mama, handed it to Jim and told him to put it on till they could dry his clothes near the fire. When Jim came from the car, he was holding the white, rubber girdle by both hands and looking very disturbed. It was so big that two of him could have fit into it.
I couldnt help it, I started giggling, then burst out laughing and laughing. His skinny, white legs with knobby knees just looked soooo funny. And the look on his face was soooo funny. I still laugh and it is still fresh in my memory.
A Scary Thing
One day we went on a picnic in the trees and near a small creek. After we sat around the fire a while, then had our picnic, Mother and Daddy lay down on the blanket to take naps. They told us to stay away from the creek because it was full and the water was really, really fast. There was a little bridge across the creek. Jim and I sat on the bridge for a while. I was a little afraid because the water was really fast and the noise was loud. I was glad when we left the bridge. It was more fun to find the ant paths and try to see where they were going.
Picnicking
When I was young, before Joyce and Jeanne were born, our family went on quite a few picnics. Mama would fry chicken and make potato salad. I dont remember a vegetable, but there probably was one. She would pack everything into the picnic basket. There would be plates and glasses and silverware. There would be a thermos full of coffee for her and Daddy. My brother and I didnt drink coffee because we were kids. I think we might have had homemade lemonade, or Orange Crush pop. Daddy would get the car ready. He would put gas in the tank and check the oil and tires. There was a blanket that we always had to lay on the ground. The places we had picnics didnt have tables, but there were firepits. The firepits werent maintained by Park Service, but had been there a long time because they were used by other picnickers.
Mother would lay out the blanket, Daddy would start the fire. We sat near the fire, sitting on logs that had been placed there. Everybody would sigh as they started to relax. They commented on how nice the fire was. I didnt think the fire was so nice. It seemed that anywhere I chose to sit, the smoke would follow me and I couldnt breathe. When I moved to a place where the smoke wasnt, as soon as I sat down, the smoke would find me.
Our picnic places were in places where the pine trees were very tall, and there was a small creek nearby. The air smelled like pine trees and pine needles mixed with the cold, clear, mineralized smell of rushing water. The sounds of the wind blowing through the pines, the shhhhhhhhh of the water flowing, and the birds chirping was very peaceful. I enjoyed watching the big black ants and the big red ants marching along the ground.
Mother and Daddy soon would lie down on the blanket and fall asleep. Jim and I were free to wander a little while we let them take their naps. Soon they would wake and it was time to go. After all the picnic things were loaded into the trunk, we would drive home, tired, relaxed, and ready for home.
Mother would lay out the blanket, Daddy would start the fire. We sat near the fire, sitting on logs that had been placed there. Everybody would sigh as they started to relax. They commented on how nice the fire was. I didnt think the fire was so nice. It seemed that anywhere I chose to sit, the smoke would follow me and I couldnt breathe. When I moved to a place where the smoke wasnt, as soon as I sat down, the smoke would find me.
Our picnic places were in places where the pine trees were very tall, and there was a small creek nearby. The air smelled like pine trees and pine needles mixed with the cold, clear, mineralized smell of rushing water. The sounds of the wind blowing through the pines, the shhhhhhhhh of the water flowing, and the birds chirping was very peaceful. I enjoyed watching the big black ants and the big red ants marching along the ground.
Mother and Daddy soon would lie down on the blanket and fall asleep. Jim and I were free to wander a little while we let them take their naps. Soon they would wake and it was time to go. After all the picnic things were loaded into the trunk, we would drive home, tired, relaxed, and ready for home.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Scared
I have twin sisters who are ten and a half years younger. One night I was assigned to babysit while my parents went out. I think Joyce and Jeanne were about three or four, so I would have been a young teen ager.
In my town was a copper smelter. At certain times of the day, there would be a very loud whistle coming from the smelter, telling the workers that it was time to change shifts, or eat lunch, or go home. Those times were 8:00, 12:00. and 4:00.
The night I was babysitting, I was still up and it was getting close to midnight. I didnt have anything to do and was standing in the living room. Suddenly, I heard the smelter whistle blow. It was so unusual, that I didnt identify it as the Whistle. It kept blowing and blowing. I started to worry. Maybe it was something bad. What should I do? Should I get the babies up and take them to the basement? If I did, they wouldnt go back to sleep and Mother and Daddy would be mad at me. I stood frozen for what seemed to be forever. Then I ducked down and sat under the piano. That is when I realized that it was just the Whistle. Mother and Daddy soon returned home, and by that time I was sitting on the couch. They were all smiles, didnt mention the Whistle, so I never knew why it blew.
In my town was a copper smelter. At certain times of the day, there would be a very loud whistle coming from the smelter, telling the workers that it was time to change shifts, or eat lunch, or go home. Those times were 8:00, 12:00. and 4:00.
The night I was babysitting, I was still up and it was getting close to midnight. I didnt have anything to do and was standing in the living room. Suddenly, I heard the smelter whistle blow. It was so unusual, that I didnt identify it as the Whistle. It kept blowing and blowing. I started to worry. Maybe it was something bad. What should I do? Should I get the babies up and take them to the basement? If I did, they wouldnt go back to sleep and Mother and Daddy would be mad at me. I stood frozen for what seemed to be forever. Then I ducked down and sat under the piano. That is when I realized that it was just the Whistle. Mother and Daddy soon returned home, and by that time I was sitting on the couch. They were all smiles, didnt mention the Whistle, so I never knew why it blew.
Visitors
When I was young, we had a few unusual visitors to our home. When I was about three or four, I was informed that we would have a guest named Hazel. I was sitting on the couch in our living room, all clean and dressed in a fresh dress. I was eating hazelnuts. I thought how funny that there was going to be a visitor with the same name as a nut. I wondered if she would be round like the nut, would she be brown, was she little? I was disappointed to see that she was just a normal person who just wanted to talk to my parents.
There was a man named Lou who periodically came to our home. He seemed to be a close friend of my mom and dad. He would drop by during the day time, around lunch time, when my parents would both be there. He was a very happy person, and would greet my brother and me. When he was about ready to leave, he would reach into his pocket and pull out a silver dollar and hand it to me. I really liked having Lou come.
My mother spoke a little French. She was actively involved in some local social organizations, and went to meetings frequently. One day she told me that a lady from France was coming for luncheon and that I was invited. This was a school day, and I always came home for lunch. Mother told me her name, I think it was Madam Bertillion, or something like that. I never could remember it. It sounded like the soup we had sometimes, buillon, so that is what I called her (but not when she was there). Again, I wondered what a lady would be like if she were named after soup. She turned out to be nice, but didnt talk or even look at me except when we were introduced. She talked funny, too, in a high, breathy voice.
There was a man named Lou who periodically came to our home. He seemed to be a close friend of my mom and dad. He would drop by during the day time, around lunch time, when my parents would both be there. He was a very happy person, and would greet my brother and me. When he was about ready to leave, he would reach into his pocket and pull out a silver dollar and hand it to me. I really liked having Lou come.
My mother spoke a little French. She was actively involved in some local social organizations, and went to meetings frequently. One day she told me that a lady from France was coming for luncheon and that I was invited. This was a school day, and I always came home for lunch. Mother told me her name, I think it was Madam Bertillion, or something like that. I never could remember it. It sounded like the soup we had sometimes, buillon, so that is what I called her (but not when she was there). Again, I wondered what a lady would be like if she were named after soup. She turned out to be nice, but didnt talk or even look at me except when we were introduced. She talked funny, too, in a high, breathy voice.
Sluffer
Lorna requested that I write stories of my life so that she can tell these stories to her children at bedtime.
When I was in grade school, we lived right across the street from school. I was a night owl, staying up till past midnight in my room with the door shut. In the morning, when leaving for work, my dad would do a little whistle to tell me it was time to wake up. I would sleepily answer that I was getting up, and then fall back asleep. A little later, I would wake again, look at the clock, and see that I had only ten minutes before school started. I would jump out of bed, throw on some clothes, brush my hair and run down the stairs. My mother would hand me a piece of toast and some orange juice for breakfast. I didnt want them because I didnt have time to eat. I would take one bite of the toast and one swallow of the juice, then run across the street, hurry to my classroom. I usually wasnt late, but I wasnt ready for school, either.
We moved three blocks away when I was eight years old. I hadnt changed my bedtime routine. But, since we lived farther away, I should have left home earlier. I didnt think of that. One morning, I hurried to school, made it on time, and was feeling pretty good about myself. About 30 minutes later, I reached up to scratch my head, and discovered that I hadnt brushed my hair before leaving the house. I was very embarassed. I thought about what to do. I raised my hand and asked the teacher if I could go to the bathroom. I walked down the hall toward the bathroom, but instead of turning in, I continued down the hall and walked out the other door. I ran all the way home, brushed my hair, then ran all the way back, hurried through the back door, into the classroom, and slid into my seat. I thought I had done a pretty good job of faking. Now I think how the teacher probably noticed my messy hair, how I was gone to the bathroom for a really long time, and how my hair was now nice. I think she knew that I had gone home. She didnt say anything to me, and I thought I had gotten away with it.
When I was in grade school, we lived right across the street from school. I was a night owl, staying up till past midnight in my room with the door shut. In the morning, when leaving for work, my dad would do a little whistle to tell me it was time to wake up. I would sleepily answer that I was getting up, and then fall back asleep. A little later, I would wake again, look at the clock, and see that I had only ten minutes before school started. I would jump out of bed, throw on some clothes, brush my hair and run down the stairs. My mother would hand me a piece of toast and some orange juice for breakfast. I didnt want them because I didnt have time to eat. I would take one bite of the toast and one swallow of the juice, then run across the street, hurry to my classroom. I usually wasnt late, but I wasnt ready for school, either.
We moved three blocks away when I was eight years old. I hadnt changed my bedtime routine. But, since we lived farther away, I should have left home earlier. I didnt think of that. One morning, I hurried to school, made it on time, and was feeling pretty good about myself. About 30 minutes later, I reached up to scratch my head, and discovered that I hadnt brushed my hair before leaving the house. I was very embarassed. I thought about what to do. I raised my hand and asked the teacher if I could go to the bathroom. I walked down the hall toward the bathroom, but instead of turning in, I continued down the hall and walked out the other door. I ran all the way home, brushed my hair, then ran all the way back, hurried through the back door, into the classroom, and slid into my seat. I thought I had done a pretty good job of faking. Now I think how the teacher probably noticed my messy hair, how I was gone to the bathroom for a really long time, and how my hair was now nice. I think she knew that I had gone home. She didnt say anything to me, and I thought I had gotten away with it.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Next Stop Liverpool
Jay ate something bad. He started feeling it as we were approaching Liverpool. While waiting in the passport line he headed straight for a chair. He was pale. Then he got up, butted in line and was told to get back. Another official in the desk nearby motioned to him, checked him in and then Jay left without looking back. I wondered what got into him. I found him again by the baggage claim. He told me he almost didnt make it to the bathroom before throwing up. We found our hotel, about five minutes´walk (we took a bus, not knowing how close it was), checked in, and Jay was sick all night and most of the day. It was okay, though. I caught up on sleep.
Around 5pm we went out to find the streets he wanted to visit. One bus took us quite a way, then we needed to transfer. We went to the next bus stop but couldnt find the bus we needed. A kind young woman walked us around the corner, down the steps, under the large street, up the stairs, down the street to the next bus stop. She showed us on the schedule which bus numbers to look for. Then she went back to her bus stop. We waited over an hour, and in that time, two appropriate busses passed by without even pausing. I was getting cold, the sun was going down and the breeze was chilly. Finally, a man joined us and expained that we had to flag the bus down by putting our arm out. Haha, silly us... Sure enough, the next bus stopped when Jay put his arm out. The driver let us out about two streets from where we wanted to go: Sydney Street. It was a short, narrow lane with houses right on the sidewalks, both sides. They were identical, only the doors were individualized. All were only one room, wide and two stories (3?) high. This is where Thomas Karran lived in Liverpool. Jay took pictures of every house! I was really feeling bladder pressure by then but there was no place to go. Jay approached a taxi to ask for directions, and ended up agreeing to ride to the next place of interest. He took us to #10 and #17 Holly Street. Number 10 was the LDS Church headquarters in 1840. It was just like the Sydney St. houses except it looked more prosperous and stood out amongst the houses around it. Number 17 was probably the home of Ann Ratcliffe´s sister. She was the one who recieived the body of baby Joseph Karran who died due to exposure. He died just before his family boarded the ship to Amercia. Her home is where the death certificate was signed. So little Joseph is buried somewhere in Liverpool.
The driver then took us to St. Peter´s church (Church of England) for Jay to take a few pictures. The he drove around a few streets to find a place to eat. We found a nice little Chinese restaurant called Ying Wu. We had sweet and sour chicken and leek and prawns with oyster sauce. Both were VERY good. The fried rice was very mild, which I liked. The meal started with sweet corn soup (egg drop) and rice crisps (like puffy chips). I ate most of them, as Jay still didnt feel ready for solid food. He drank three glasses of Coke and just sampled the food. The taxi driver had told us to call Delta taxis because they charge a flat fee. He said the hackney taxis charge on a meter-based fee. The restaurant people called the cab and it took us five minutes back to the hotel. We were close.
The bed looked good - it was calling my name. I checked on the "laundry" and found it read to be packed by morning. We went to bed anticipating spending some time downtown, seeing the docks, riding in the double decker bus, and going into some shops, then getting back to the airport for our even flight. We woke around 7:30, ready for the days´ plans. I thought to look at the printed itinerary and it said the plane would leave at 8:27 a.m. I said, "Uhhh, you´d better look at the schedule. I think we have a problem." Jay checked and said, "Uh Oh, what should we do? Shall we try to make it?" We had thought the flight was in the P.m. I answered, "Yeah, lets try." We hurriedly finished packing and to check out. The receptionist called a taxi, "We need a taxi. NOW," he said. In five minutes, we arrived at the John Lennon airport. We quickly walked to the information desk where they told us we were too late. We had to buy tickets for the noon flight, pay to check luggage. It was another U$100 plus. We bought Subway lunch and sat on the floor (no chairs) and had a picnic. I never drank a soda so fast! But we had to get rid of the fluids and there were no bathrooms or sinks anywhere, just bare hallways. Liverpool John Lennon Airport isnt very big. In an hour we would be in Isle of Man.
Around 5pm we went out to find the streets he wanted to visit. One bus took us quite a way, then we needed to transfer. We went to the next bus stop but couldnt find the bus we needed. A kind young woman walked us around the corner, down the steps, under the large street, up the stairs, down the street to the next bus stop. She showed us on the schedule which bus numbers to look for. Then she went back to her bus stop. We waited over an hour, and in that time, two appropriate busses passed by without even pausing. I was getting cold, the sun was going down and the breeze was chilly. Finally, a man joined us and expained that we had to flag the bus down by putting our arm out. Haha, silly us... Sure enough, the next bus stopped when Jay put his arm out. The driver let us out about two streets from where we wanted to go: Sydney Street. It was a short, narrow lane with houses right on the sidewalks, both sides. They were identical, only the doors were individualized. All were only one room, wide and two stories (3?) high. This is where Thomas Karran lived in Liverpool. Jay took pictures of every house! I was really feeling bladder pressure by then but there was no place to go. Jay approached a taxi to ask for directions, and ended up agreeing to ride to the next place of interest. He took us to #10 and #17 Holly Street. Number 10 was the LDS Church headquarters in 1840. It was just like the Sydney St. houses except it looked more prosperous and stood out amongst the houses around it. Number 17 was probably the home of Ann Ratcliffe´s sister. She was the one who recieived the body of baby Joseph Karran who died due to exposure. He died just before his family boarded the ship to Amercia. Her home is where the death certificate was signed. So little Joseph is buried somewhere in Liverpool.
The driver then took us to St. Peter´s church (Church of England) for Jay to take a few pictures. The he drove around a few streets to find a place to eat. We found a nice little Chinese restaurant called Ying Wu. We had sweet and sour chicken and leek and prawns with oyster sauce. Both were VERY good. The fried rice was very mild, which I liked. The meal started with sweet corn soup (egg drop) and rice crisps (like puffy chips). I ate most of them, as Jay still didnt feel ready for solid food. He drank three glasses of Coke and just sampled the food. The taxi driver had told us to call Delta taxis because they charge a flat fee. He said the hackney taxis charge on a meter-based fee. The restaurant people called the cab and it took us five minutes back to the hotel. We were close.
The bed looked good - it was calling my name. I checked on the "laundry" and found it read to be packed by morning. We went to bed anticipating spending some time downtown, seeing the docks, riding in the double decker bus, and going into some shops, then getting back to the airport for our even flight. We woke around 7:30, ready for the days´ plans. I thought to look at the printed itinerary and it said the plane would leave at 8:27 a.m. I said, "Uhhh, you´d better look at the schedule. I think we have a problem." Jay checked and said, "Uh Oh, what should we do? Shall we try to make it?" We had thought the flight was in the P.m. I answered, "Yeah, lets try." We hurriedly finished packing and to check out. The receptionist called a taxi, "We need a taxi. NOW," he said. In five minutes, we arrived at the John Lennon airport. We quickly walked to the information desk where they told us we were too late. We had to buy tickets for the noon flight, pay to check luggage. It was another U$100 plus. We bought Subway lunch and sat on the floor (no chairs) and had a picnic. I never drank a soda so fast! But we had to get rid of the fluids and there were no bathrooms or sinks anywhere, just bare hallways. Liverpool John Lennon Airport isnt very big. In an hour we would be in Isle of Man.
Arrival in Amsterdam
When approaching Amsterdam, The Netherlands, I adjusted my watch seven hours into the future to be on local time. It went from breakfast to dinner in 30 seconds. The plane was a little late, but we had seven hours in Amsterdam. I wanted to leave the airport and go into town. Jay was afraid , but I convinced him it was important to me, we had plenty of time and that people speak English. We found a locker for our carry-ons, found the trains to city center, patted our pockets to check on passports and wallets, then proceeded what felt like asking directions every 20 feet. Jay would ask, then turn to me for interpretation. He cant understand any English that is not American. Put that together with his lousy hearing aids! We asked a canal boat operator for directions to the Anne Frank museum as soon as we left the train station. It was a fifteen minute walk. We got to walk the brick streets, passing shops in Amsterdam city center. It was so beautiful. The buildings were old brick structures. Most of them were very narrow and four to five stories high and connected to the buildings on either sides. Each was different and obviously separate. Each had its own top floor and roof treatment. Each was occupied all the way to the highest windows. We passed three canals running through the center of each street. Each side had one-way traffic, a bike lane, and a sidewalk. There were more cyclists than cars. Old(er) ladies were just as agile on bikes as children on theirs. The sidewalks were made of bricks, were about two and a half feet wide, and were immediately butted up against public and private doorways. There were NO entryways. People sat on chairs on the sidewalk. Parked bicycles were everywhere. Every block had at least one pub with tables and chairs set up on wider portions of sidewalk. What we would consider an alley were actually named streets with more shops and residences.
At the fourth canal we came across the line of people waiting to see Anne Frank Huis (house). We chatted with a man and his wife from Spain (in broken Spanish/English) for about 10 minutes as we approached the house. It was just another narrow, three-story building in the middle of the block. We paid 6.50 euros each entry fee and then were free to walk from the lower business part to the very top hiding place. All the spoken recordings and written signs were in Dutch and English. There was no furniture. The building was one room wide by two rooms deep by four stories high. Mr Frank was in the pectin business, he put it in his partner´s name to protect in from the anti-Jews.
The floors were wide wooden planks, about 8 inch wide, painted or stained black/brown. Each room on the lower floors had big windows open to the outside. Further up VERY steep narrow steps in a narrow staircase were the hiding rooms. These windows were covered with thick black window covers that blocked out all light. It was quite dark and made the small rooms feel even smaller. These rooms may have been ten feet square. The next stairway was even steeper and the steps only 6-8 inches deep. I had to go up sideways, using the handrail for support. The first room had many of the pictures/postcards/movie star photos that Anne Frank put up to make it more cheerful. They were protected by clear plactic boxes. The kitchen was the size of a larger bathroom. Peter´s room was 6 by 8 feet with a ladder-like stairway into the center. It was so TINY! There was a little closet that held a very pretty toilet. It had blue flowers and vines painted on it. The sink and mirror were just outside the closet. Everything was soooo small!! All those people, all those years! And someone told the Germans about them just before the end of the war. It is important to keep these types of places available for people to see.
We had a Ben and Jerry´s ice cream at the snack bar then began the walk back to the train station. Jay was really in pain and my hips had had enough. The ride back by train was short - but not enough to rest as much as we needed. We made our way back through two train stations, to the airport check-in (show passports and boarding passes), collected our carry-ons, then Jay couldnt walk any further. He wanted a ride to the gate (D06G). We were directed to a transportation kiosk where it took talking to three people to get what we needed. One thought we wanted a ride into town and said it would be expensive. After about 10 minutes waiting, were called to the cart that had been parked just 20 feet away. The driver was so kind. She took us to where we had to go downstairs, went with us down the elevator, through the gate check (had to empty her pockets, get frisked, etc), then took us exactly to the waiting area. I gave her my Country magazine, and made Jay give her a tip. Everyone we approached for assistance was very gracious and helpful. It is sometimes hard to understand their English, though. I bought a small orange bag to hold my wallet. It cost 9.90 euros. From Gate D06G, we boarded a bus that took us out on the runway (five minutes´drive!). We climbed the stairs up into the small plane. The business section had six seats. There were two seats on either side. We slept most of the hour's flight to Liverpool, England.
At the fourth canal we came across the line of people waiting to see Anne Frank Huis (house). We chatted with a man and his wife from Spain (in broken Spanish/English) for about 10 minutes as we approached the house. It was just another narrow, three-story building in the middle of the block. We paid 6.50 euros each entry fee and then were free to walk from the lower business part to the very top hiding place. All the spoken recordings and written signs were in Dutch and English. There was no furniture. The building was one room wide by two rooms deep by four stories high. Mr Frank was in the pectin business, he put it in his partner´s name to protect in from the anti-Jews.
The floors were wide wooden planks, about 8 inch wide, painted or stained black/brown. Each room on the lower floors had big windows open to the outside. Further up VERY steep narrow steps in a narrow staircase were the hiding rooms. These windows were covered with thick black window covers that blocked out all light. It was quite dark and made the small rooms feel even smaller. These rooms may have been ten feet square. The next stairway was even steeper and the steps only 6-8 inches deep. I had to go up sideways, using the handrail for support. The first room had many of the pictures/postcards/movie star photos that Anne Frank put up to make it more cheerful. They were protected by clear plactic boxes. The kitchen was the size of a larger bathroom. Peter´s room was 6 by 8 feet with a ladder-like stairway into the center. It was so TINY! There was a little closet that held a very pretty toilet. It had blue flowers and vines painted on it. The sink and mirror were just outside the closet. Everything was soooo small!! All those people, all those years! And someone told the Germans about them just before the end of the war. It is important to keep these types of places available for people to see.
We had a Ben and Jerry´s ice cream at the snack bar then began the walk back to the train station. Jay was really in pain and my hips had had enough. The ride back by train was short - but not enough to rest as much as we needed. We made our way back through two train stations, to the airport check-in (show passports and boarding passes), collected our carry-ons, then Jay couldnt walk any further. He wanted a ride to the gate (D06G). We were directed to a transportation kiosk where it took talking to three people to get what we needed. One thought we wanted a ride into town and said it would be expensive. After about 10 minutes waiting, were called to the cart that had been parked just 20 feet away. The driver was so kind. She took us to where we had to go downstairs, went with us down the elevator, through the gate check (had to empty her pockets, get frisked, etc), then took us exactly to the waiting area. I gave her my Country magazine, and made Jay give her a tip. Everyone we approached for assistance was very gracious and helpful. It is sometimes hard to understand their English, though. I bought a small orange bag to hold my wallet. It cost 9.90 euros. From Gate D06G, we boarded a bus that took us out on the runway (five minutes´drive!). We climbed the stairs up into the small plane. The business section had six seats. There were two seats on either side. We slept most of the hour's flight to Liverpool, England.
Pre-Mission Vacation (2011)
In June 2011 Jay and I were caught in a great whirlwind. We managed a wedding, a two-week trip to Isle of Man and Norway, and preliminary applications online for a Church mission.
I have just found the entry for that time in a journal and would like to share our experiences with anyone interested. I enjoyed reminiscing, maybe some of you might, too.
28 June 2011. Hooray! Roger and Suzanne were sealed in the Manti Temple on Friday morning. around 11:00. Most of our family was there, and many of Suzanne´s large family, too. We stayed overnight in a house rented out during the pageant. It was a victorian house filled with antique or classic furniture and knick-knacks. It was very nice. Post marriage luncheon was pulled pork sandwihes and Jello salads provided by Suzanne´s family. Then we went to the church in Ephraim for the reception. The food was good. There were two chocolate fountains. The kids ate most of it. Jay´s cousin Beverly Karren Winters and her husband Carl invited Jay, Louise and me to spend the night. We were very tired so accepted their offer. Finding their home was HARD!! They live in Pleasant View. Pleasant it might be, but it is on one of many dirt roads way up in the mountain. We searched for a couple of hours, stopping for directions at numerous homes. Finally at ten minutes to eleven, we found it. It´s a beautiful log home. Power is provided by solar panels. It is REALLY out in the ¨boonies¨! We left the next day, picked up Esther and Adele in Provo (Lori and Bennett had a motel room there.) We didnt know there was supposed to be a family lunch at 1:00. We didnt get home till three. We unloaded the pick-up and rushed over to Lynette´s to help set up for the openhouse. Lisa came with the lasagna and salad around 5:30 or six. We were busy making chicken salad croissant sandwiches and cutting up fruit for the chocolate fountains. A lot of people came, it was a nice party. We were exhausted. I had to teach Primary and play the organ the next morning, and I sang in the choir.
Monday we cleaned and packed for our trip to Isle of Man and Norway. We had Family Home Evening that went on to around ten. Tuesday we left at 7:00 to take Louise to the airport and then checked in for our flight to Atlanta. Our flight was uneventful, with the usual snack:drinks and choice of cookie, peanuts or crackers. We watched Big Momma. The plane was late and we had just an hour to find the gate for Amsterdam. It wasnt very far. Jay went to the bathroom while I checked in with boarding pass and airport. Then I went to the bathroom. I saw Jay at the boarding door, which I thought was unusual because he needs to be together to be safe. So I boarded and found our seats, but he wasnt there. I thought maybe he was seated somewhere else, but I didnt see him anywhere on the plane. I walked back up to the desk and there he was, sweating and worried. His nervousness has made him blind and deaf. We settled I and relaxed. Dinner was served: fish or chicken. We both chose fish. It was strange: the fish was all mixed up in mashed potatoes.
A young Bangladeshi man sat next to me. He wanted to chat. He asked if I had grandchildren. I told him 25 and then explained that we have nine children. It took him a moment to digest that. He muttered to himself, "Nine children." He asked if I was Catholic. I smiled and said, "No, I am Mormon." He then wanted to talk about my beliefs and we conversed pleasantly for about 15 minutes. He was a little familiar with our beliefs, he explained that he had a friend long ago who was LDS. His father is Christian, his mother is Muslim. Then he wanted to sleep.
Sleep was difficult for me. Jay and I are too big for airline seats so if one folds one´s arms the other isnt awakened by another's movements. Hah! The woman in front of me reclined her seat as soon as we took off so there was very little room for me to wiggle at all. In the middle of the night I got up and noticed that her two seat companions were gone and she was stretched out across all three seats, asleep. I was kind of irked. I raised the reclined backs so Jay and I had a little more room. Later, after people were beginning to stir, I was sleeping with my head up against the seat in front. I felt the seat trying to recline so I kept pressure against it till she quit trying. (sweet revenge). Breakfast wasnt very good. Oh, well...
Continued on the next installment......
I have just found the entry for that time in a journal and would like to share our experiences with anyone interested. I enjoyed reminiscing, maybe some of you might, too.
28 June 2011. Hooray! Roger and Suzanne were sealed in the Manti Temple on Friday morning. around 11:00. Most of our family was there, and many of Suzanne´s large family, too. We stayed overnight in a house rented out during the pageant. It was a victorian house filled with antique or classic furniture and knick-knacks. It was very nice. Post marriage luncheon was pulled pork sandwihes and Jello salads provided by Suzanne´s family. Then we went to the church in Ephraim for the reception. The food was good. There were two chocolate fountains. The kids ate most of it. Jay´s cousin Beverly Karren Winters and her husband Carl invited Jay, Louise and me to spend the night. We were very tired so accepted their offer. Finding their home was HARD!! They live in Pleasant View. Pleasant it might be, but it is on one of many dirt roads way up in the mountain. We searched for a couple of hours, stopping for directions at numerous homes. Finally at ten minutes to eleven, we found it. It´s a beautiful log home. Power is provided by solar panels. It is REALLY out in the ¨boonies¨! We left the next day, picked up Esther and Adele in Provo (Lori and Bennett had a motel room there.) We didnt know there was supposed to be a family lunch at 1:00. We didnt get home till three. We unloaded the pick-up and rushed over to Lynette´s to help set up for the openhouse. Lisa came with the lasagna and salad around 5:30 or six. We were busy making chicken salad croissant sandwiches and cutting up fruit for the chocolate fountains. A lot of people came, it was a nice party. We were exhausted. I had to teach Primary and play the organ the next morning, and I sang in the choir.
Monday we cleaned and packed for our trip to Isle of Man and Norway. We had Family Home Evening that went on to around ten. Tuesday we left at 7:00 to take Louise to the airport and then checked in for our flight to Atlanta. Our flight was uneventful, with the usual snack:drinks and choice of cookie, peanuts or crackers. We watched Big Momma. The plane was late and we had just an hour to find the gate for Amsterdam. It wasnt very far. Jay went to the bathroom while I checked in with boarding pass and airport. Then I went to the bathroom. I saw Jay at the boarding door, which I thought was unusual because he needs to be together to be safe. So I boarded and found our seats, but he wasnt there. I thought maybe he was seated somewhere else, but I didnt see him anywhere on the plane. I walked back up to the desk and there he was, sweating and worried. His nervousness has made him blind and deaf. We settled I and relaxed. Dinner was served: fish or chicken. We both chose fish. It was strange: the fish was all mixed up in mashed potatoes.
A young Bangladeshi man sat next to me. He wanted to chat. He asked if I had grandchildren. I told him 25 and then explained that we have nine children. It took him a moment to digest that. He muttered to himself, "Nine children." He asked if I was Catholic. I smiled and said, "No, I am Mormon." He then wanted to talk about my beliefs and we conversed pleasantly for about 15 minutes. He was a little familiar with our beliefs, he explained that he had a friend long ago who was LDS. His father is Christian, his mother is Muslim. Then he wanted to sleep.
Sleep was difficult for me. Jay and I are too big for airline seats so if one folds one´s arms the other isnt awakened by another's movements. Hah! The woman in front of me reclined her seat as soon as we took off so there was very little room for me to wiggle at all. In the middle of the night I got up and noticed that her two seat companions were gone and she was stretched out across all three seats, asleep. I was kind of irked. I raised the reclined backs so Jay and I had a little more room. Later, after people were beginning to stir, I was sleeping with my head up against the seat in front. I felt the seat trying to recline so I kept pressure against it till she quit trying. (sweet revenge). Breakfast wasnt very good. Oh, well...
Continued on the next installment......
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Our Trip to the End of the World, Day Three
Just an additional narrative about yesterday: We had a couple hours before the van came to pick us up, so we decided to find some lunch. It was pretty cloudy and quit cool but not cold enough to wear a jacket. Boy, did we make a mistake! It started to sprinkle about the time we found Chocolatta, the place that had sandwiches as well as lots of chocolate goodies. By the time we sat down it was raining. It took so long to get our lunch that we had to have it "para llevar" (take out) and we had to walk (Jay cant run with his bad knee) six blocks in pouring rain and gusts of wind. We arrived, completely soaked and dripping, with just enough time to completely change clothes, hang up the wet ones, and get down to the lobby. It was an experience we laughed about but dont want to do again.
We boarded the travel bus to Porto Natales for more adventure. It is even farther south. We made sure to have all our cold weather clothing this time. We were able to see lots of the Patagonian countryside. It is sheep country for sure. We saw countless flocks and some were very large. Most of them were heavy with wool. We saw a few small herds of cattle, and a mounted cowboy and his dog working a group of cattle somewhere. The biggest surprise was the rheas. There were lots, usually just one or maybe two at a site. I got my camera out to get a picture, but was unsuccessful. The bus was moving too fast and we'd pass before I had time to spot and aim. Then I saw a group of about 15 all resting near a fence by the road. Unfortunately I didnt get a shot and they were the last ones we saw. A little late I saw a fox running and it literally flew over a bush in its way. There were a lot of backpacking trekkers on the bus, and lots more all over town. This is a pretty popular place for tourists.
We (all 8) went to lunch and then divided according to what we wanted to do. I had a seafood soup for lunch. It was full of clams, oysters, calarari and small bites of fish. Jay had a soup that looked just like mine, but had a palm-sized piece of fish. Nearing the end of his soup, he found a funny looking shell - a barnacle. We joked that it was a tooth: maybe from a Shrek-like girl, or the tooth from the chef, or maybe a gift to replace his own gap. The Roberts have been paying for Sister Onate, and the Laymans for Ida. That led to joking that Jay and I are looking for a stray woman who could be our beneficient. The waiter laughed out loud when we asked if the chef had lost his tooth. This shell was about three-fourths inch across and again that in length. One end was flat, the other end had several pointed sharp edges.
We spent the rest of the day shopping, resting, and tomorrow we will take a boat ride.
We boarded the travel bus to Porto Natales for more adventure. It is even farther south. We made sure to have all our cold weather clothing this time. We were able to see lots of the Patagonian countryside. It is sheep country for sure. We saw countless flocks and some were very large. Most of them were heavy with wool. We saw a few small herds of cattle, and a mounted cowboy and his dog working a group of cattle somewhere. The biggest surprise was the rheas. There were lots, usually just one or maybe two at a site. I got my camera out to get a picture, but was unsuccessful. The bus was moving too fast and we'd pass before I had time to spot and aim. Then I saw a group of about 15 all resting near a fence by the road. Unfortunately I didnt get a shot and they were the last ones we saw. A little late I saw a fox running and it literally flew over a bush in its way. There were a lot of backpacking trekkers on the bus, and lots more all over town. This is a pretty popular place for tourists.
We (all 8) went to lunch and then divided according to what we wanted to do. I had a seafood soup for lunch. It was full of clams, oysters, calarari and small bites of fish. Jay had a soup that looked just like mine, but had a palm-sized piece of fish. Nearing the end of his soup, he found a funny looking shell - a barnacle. We joked that it was a tooth: maybe from a Shrek-like girl, or the tooth from the chef, or maybe a gift to replace his own gap. The Roberts have been paying for Sister Onate, and the Laymans for Ida. That led to joking that Jay and I are looking for a stray woman who could be our beneficient. The waiter laughed out loud when we asked if the chef had lost his tooth. This shell was about three-fourths inch across and again that in length. One end was flat, the other end had several pointed sharp edges.
We spent the rest of the day shopping, resting, and tomorrow we will take a boat ride.
Our Trip to the End of the World, Day Two
Jay went to breakfast, I chose to sleep. He came back, we slept more. I woke up, ate three ginger cookies I had baked, then finshed all the yarn I had brought on the baby afghan I am making. The van picked us up at 11:30 and drove for an hour and a half, mostly on dirt roads southward. We passed a big open-pit coal mine. The coal is mined, loaded onto a ship and taken up the coast to Vina del Mar to be processed. We turned left from there and followed the coastline to the end of the earth. Finally the bus stopped and we got out to walk about a mile (2 km) on a wood-slat-walkway down to the beach where we hoped to see penguins. It was cold and the wind was blowing pretty hard. I was wishing I had my coat and mittens, headband and scarf. (I left them at the hotel). I was feeling especially cold, because when Jay and I went to lunch we were caught in a rainstorm complete with wind and thunder, and were thoroughly soaked. The first penguin we saw was just a few feet off the path, sitting in the opening of its burrow. It kindly posed for many pictures. We had been asked to speak quietly, and move slowly as to not startle the penguins. About ten yards farther on, we came to an observation blind where we could look out on 10-15 penguins standing on a sand bar. As we watched, they waddled to a small pool, jumped in and swam to the next sand bar. We took lots of pictures.
It's hard to believe that we REALLY !WERE only 200 miles from Antarctica, and that we were seeing real penguines that look like the ones always pictured. It is hard to believe we are at the end of the world, the place we never dreamed we would see!
On the way back, we spotted rheas, a silver fox on the run, and big, brown rabbits. There were some large birds, too, sitting on a fence post. We dont know what thery were.
On the way back we asked the guide to take us to where the ship replicas were so we could take pictures. The place was closed, so we did the best we could with our telescoping lenses. Fifteen minutes after arriving at the hotel, we met again to go to dinner. I had salmon Wellington, asparagus with a lemon sauce, and au gratin potatoes. It was very good. Jay had a seafood soup and really liked it. Since we had to leave early the next morning we packed and went to bed. We still had wet clothes from the rain, so I used the hairdryer to dry them.
It's hard to believe that we REALLY !WERE only 200 miles from Antarctica, and that we were seeing real penguines that look like the ones always pictured. It is hard to believe we are at the end of the world, the place we never dreamed we would see!
On the way back, we spotted rheas, a silver fox on the run, and big, brown rabbits. There were some large birds, too, sitting on a fence post. We dont know what thery were.
On the way back we asked the guide to take us to where the ship replicas were so we could take pictures. The place was closed, so we did the best we could with our telescoping lenses. Fifteen minutes after arriving at the hotel, we met again to go to dinner. I had salmon Wellington, asparagus with a lemon sauce, and au gratin potatoes. It was very good. Jay had a seafood soup and really liked it. Since we had to leave early the next morning we packed and went to bed. We still had wet clothes from the rain, so I used the hairdryer to dry them.
Our Trip to the End of the World, Day One
March 4 (Monday) I did the few dishes we had used, then at 8:00am we took our suitcases down to the street where the van was waiting to take us to the airport. Eight of us were going: Van and Millie Layman and their friend Ida Murphy, Sister Rina Onate (that n has a tilda over it), Perry and Frances Roberts, and Jay and I. After checking in at the airport, we waited about 30 minutes before boarding. The plane was Sky Airlines. It was very nice; I think the seats were a little larger, and there seemed to be more leg room. Each row was six seats divided by the aisle. All announcements were in Spanish AND English.
We were served two meals, not just pretzels and soda. I really liked the first - some kind of pinkish ground up meat in a croissant roll, fruit cocktail, a very nice kind of cookie, and a choice of sodas, juices, coffee, tea, wine, or something stronger. I chose orange juice. We had a short stop at Puerto Montt to exchange some passengers. Until then Jay and I had the three-seat row to ourselves. A young lady joined us for the rest of the way. Shortly after take-off, we were given our second lunch. There was a choice between pasta and "beef". I chose beef and wish I hadnt. It was a pastel de papas (ground beef, 2 olives, a slice of hard boiled egg, topped with unseasoned mashed potatoes. Chileans sprinkle sugar over the top. I scraped two-thirds of the potato off and ate the rest. The rest of the meal was the same as the first, and I had Coke.
It took about four hours total before we landed. We picked up our suitcases then found our guide. He was holding up a sign that said, "Layman 8". I always wanted to be looked for at an airport with a sign held up. Before going to the hotel, the guide took us on a tour of the area and city. We followed the coastline of the Strait of Magellan and could see Tierra del Fuego on the other side. It is a large island. We glimpsed the replica of Magellan's ship and next to it the beginning replica of the Beagle that Charles Darwin sailed on. They were very small by today's standards.
Nearing the city, we stopped at a high point with a good view of the Strait and the city. There was a table there with sweaters and hats and scarves for sale. Jay and I each bought alpaca pullover sweaters, Millie bought a beautiful knitted cardigan, for $10,000, or U$20. We drove into town, toured a "founding fathers' home and heard the history. This home would be the equivalent to Brigham Young's home in Salt Lake (without the pool table room ;D). The city plaza was just a block away, so we walked to it, shopped at the kioskos set up there. I bought a lapis lazuli penguin and then our guide told us he would take us to a place where things would be cheaper (he never did).
In the center of the plaza, called Plaza de Armas (every city has one), is a big monument. Magellan is at the top, and the next lower level to his left and right are native indians of Tierra del Fuego and of Patagonia. We took pictures, lots. Almost finished with our tour, we had only one more stop) the mausoleum cemetery. It was all mausoleums and tall, sculpted evergreens. It looked kind of like a mini city because they all looked like old office buildings. The trees were all trimmed and trained to grow in the same shape. There was a double row of them separated by a gravel path. It felt like it went on forever (kind of like the mirrors in a temple lealing room). Sister Frances (who has a pacemaker) and I (with bad back) posed for some Alice in Wonderland type photos and then held hands and skipped down the path till we ran out of breath.
Finally we checked into Rey Don Felipe hotel, room 105, ground level. It's a nice room with a king-size bed, fridge, TV, phone and nice clean bathroom. At 7:00pm all eight of us walked about six blocks to Cafe Brocoli (the front was painted in broccoli greens). I ordered aphrodisiac soup because it sounded the best, and gnocchi with mushroom sauce. Neither was particularly good, but we had some fun taking pictures with my spooning up the soup. The broth was good, the fish was tough and dry. It didnt affect me, however, as I fell asleep as soon as we hit the pillows.
We were served two meals, not just pretzels and soda. I really liked the first - some kind of pinkish ground up meat in a croissant roll, fruit cocktail, a very nice kind of cookie, and a choice of sodas, juices, coffee, tea, wine, or something stronger. I chose orange juice. We had a short stop at Puerto Montt to exchange some passengers. Until then Jay and I had the three-seat row to ourselves. A young lady joined us for the rest of the way. Shortly after take-off, we were given our second lunch. There was a choice between pasta and "beef". I chose beef and wish I hadnt. It was a pastel de papas (ground beef, 2 olives, a slice of hard boiled egg, topped with unseasoned mashed potatoes. Chileans sprinkle sugar over the top. I scraped two-thirds of the potato off and ate the rest. The rest of the meal was the same as the first, and I had Coke.
It took about four hours total before we landed. We picked up our suitcases then found our guide. He was holding up a sign that said, "Layman 8". I always wanted to be looked for at an airport with a sign held up. Before going to the hotel, the guide took us on a tour of the area and city. We followed the coastline of the Strait of Magellan and could see Tierra del Fuego on the other side. It is a large island. We glimpsed the replica of Magellan's ship and next to it the beginning replica of the Beagle that Charles Darwin sailed on. They were very small by today's standards.
Nearing the city, we stopped at a high point with a good view of the Strait and the city. There was a table there with sweaters and hats and scarves for sale. Jay and I each bought alpaca pullover sweaters, Millie bought a beautiful knitted cardigan, for $10,000, or U$20. We drove into town, toured a "founding fathers' home and heard the history. This home would be the equivalent to Brigham Young's home in Salt Lake (without the pool table room ;D). The city plaza was just a block away, so we walked to it, shopped at the kioskos set up there. I bought a lapis lazuli penguin and then our guide told us he would take us to a place where things would be cheaper (he never did).
In the center of the plaza, called Plaza de Armas (every city has one), is a big monument. Magellan is at the top, and the next lower level to his left and right are native indians of Tierra del Fuego and of Patagonia. We took pictures, lots. Almost finished with our tour, we had only one more stop) the mausoleum cemetery. It was all mausoleums and tall, sculpted evergreens. It looked kind of like a mini city because they all looked like old office buildings. The trees were all trimmed and trained to grow in the same shape. There was a double row of them separated by a gravel path. It felt like it went on forever (kind of like the mirrors in a temple lealing room). Sister Frances (who has a pacemaker) and I (with bad back) posed for some Alice in Wonderland type photos and then held hands and skipped down the path till we ran out of breath.
Finally we checked into Rey Don Felipe hotel, room 105, ground level. It's a nice room with a king-size bed, fridge, TV, phone and nice clean bathroom. At 7:00pm all eight of us walked about six blocks to Cafe Brocoli (the front was painted in broccoli greens). I ordered aphrodisiac soup because it sounded the best, and gnocchi with mushroom sauce. Neither was particularly good, but we had some fun taking pictures with my spooning up the soup. The broth was good, the fish was tough and dry. It didnt affect me, however, as I fell asleep as soon as we hit the pillows.
A Word for the Hesitant Missionary
Elder Uchtdorf in the Liahona, February 2013 (and probably the Ensign, too) said this:
1. Be a light (why are you so happy?)
2. Be conversational (work the church ito your conversations)
3. Be full of grace (have charity and kindness)
4. Be filled with faith (let the Holy Ghost testify through you. Just
open your mouth)
5. Every member a missionary (stand as a witness of God at all times)
If you find this interesting, you might want to go to www.everyday missionaries.org. It was an immediate ahah moment for me that has given me the courage to "just open (my) mouth"
1. Be a light (why are you so happy?)
2. Be conversational (work the church ito your conversations)
3. Be full of grace (have charity and kindness)
4. Be filled with faith (let the Holy Ghost testify through you. Just
open your mouth)
5. Every member a missionary (stand as a witness of God at all times)
If you find this interesting, you might want to go to www.everyday missionaries.org. It was an immediate ahah moment for me that has given me the courage to "just open (my) mouth"
Irony?
The world has a new Catholic pope. His chosen papal name is Francis I.
The week prior to his election, I found a quote by St Francis of Assisi that I liked enough to enter into my journal. I share it with you:
"PREACH THE GOSPEL AT ALL TIMES AND
IF NECESSARY, USE WORDS."
The week prior to his election, I found a quote by St Francis of Assisi that I liked enough to enter into my journal. I share it with you:
"PREACH THE GOSPEL AT ALL TIMES AND
IF NECESSARY, USE WORDS."
Missing Things
Santiago is beginning to grow on me. I am going to miss it when we go home. I like the dogs and the crowds and the construction and the buses and the traffic and the hole-in-the-wall shops and the caracoles (type of shopping mall) and waiting for an earthquake (temblor)....
I will miss our guards and joking with people and everything all locked behind fences, and church meetings where I dont understand anything being said. I will miss living across the street from the temple, and all the missionaries and church employeees we meet and greet....
I will miss the little Primary and will wonder how Matteo is doing. I will miss shopping at Lider and the feria and walking and bussing to and from them with our little red cart. I will miss people coming up to us and telling us they are Mormons, too, and prove it with a good Mormon handshake, special glow on their faces, and showing us a peek of their garment....
I will miss the bus rides, the bus entertainment, feeding the pigeons at the bus stops, people offering their seats to us, balancing when there are no seats as the driver jerks and throws us off balance. I will miss the simplicity of our life and apartment that locks with two keys and the door knog is in the middle of the door....
I will miss the elevators, especially the one in our apartment building. It cant take more than three people or it will stall between floors and that is claustrophobic, and the mosquitoes that seem to like the elevator...
And I will miss our little red cart on wheels that has gone everywhere with us every day but Sundays...
I will miss our guards and joking with people and everything all locked behind fences, and church meetings where I dont understand anything being said. I will miss living across the street from the temple, and all the missionaries and church employeees we meet and greet....
I will miss the little Primary and will wonder how Matteo is doing. I will miss shopping at Lider and the feria and walking and bussing to and from them with our little red cart. I will miss people coming up to us and telling us they are Mormons, too, and prove it with a good Mormon handshake, special glow on their faces, and showing us a peek of their garment....
I will miss the bus rides, the bus entertainment, feeding the pigeons at the bus stops, people offering their seats to us, balancing when there are no seats as the driver jerks and throws us off balance. I will miss the simplicity of our life and apartment that locks with two keys and the door knog is in the middle of the door....
I will miss the elevators, especially the one in our apartment building. It cant take more than three people or it will stall between floors and that is claustrophobic, and the mosquitoes that seem to like the elevator...
And I will miss our little red cart on wheels that has gone everywhere with us every day but Sundays...
What Is Your Relationship with God?
Again, I was reading an old Deseret News that found its way to my apartment. This one is an article about how our perception of what God is like can affect how we feel about ourselves. There are five perceptions:
1. Authoritative
2. Benevolent
3. Critical
4. Distant
5. No God
What we perceive can influence our mental health. Wanting to know the Loving God that is taught in our Church,I have struggled with numbers 1,3, and 4. I also think one's relationship with God has something to do withthe type of parenting we experienced. (And maybe the type of parenting we do??) This may be something I want to explore further.
In the article, the author says, "traditional therapists have long dismissed religious and spiritual experiences as delusions that dont reflect a person's actual mental state. ...to ignore beliefs is to risk ignoring a possible source of an individual's pain and suffering."
1. Authoritative
2. Benevolent
3. Critical
4. Distant
5. No God
What we perceive can influence our mental health. Wanting to know the Loving God that is taught in our Church,I have struggled with numbers 1,3, and 4. I also think one's relationship with God has something to do withthe type of parenting we experienced. (And maybe the type of parenting we do??) This may be something I want to explore further.
In the article, the author says, "traditional therapists have long dismissed religious and spiritual experiences as delusions that dont reflect a person's actual mental state. ...to ignore beliefs is to risk ignoring a possible source of an individual's pain and suffering."
What Kind of Parent Are YOU?
In the Desert News, December 9, 2012, there is an article on page P3 that I found very interesting. Lois M. Collins writes about 4 parenting cultures that reflect the story of America's families. I would like to quote the descriptions of the four types of parenting. As you read them, decide where you fit and ask yourself if you are happy with your parenting. I found that they overlap and that I seemed to fit into all of them to some degree. I dont think any of them are to be condemned; they undoubtedly will all produce children who make their own choices in life.
The Faithful
"20% of American parents, adhere to "divine and timeless morality" from traditional Christianity, Judaism or Islam to give them a strong sense of right and wrong. They try to preserve moral order, raising "children whose lives reflect God's purpose. They talk often with their kids about faith, have family devotions, attend church and pray before meals. ...A number of the Faithful attitudes line up with stereotypes of conservative Christians, e.g. use spanking, strongly disapprove of gay marriage or sex outside marriage, and the women embrace the role of homemaker. The Faithful want their famlies to be warm and emotionally supportive and think men should put family before their career, just as women should.
Engaged Progressive
"21% fall into this category. Morality centers on personal freedom and responsibility. They see few moral absolutes except the Golden Rule. They value honesty, are skeptical about religion and trust what "feels right," also allowing others moral latitude. They are the least religious.... They are pretty optimistic about today's culture and their children's future, hoping to help them become what the researchers call 'responsible choosers.' Their children get more freedom. By 14, they know about birth control, by 15, they surf the Web without supervision and by 16 they watch R-rated movies. They are politically liberal, support gay marriage, value tolerance and 'believe the playing field of life should be relatively fair and even.'
The Detached
19% fall into this category. Parents let kids be kids. They are skeptical of the 'old certainties' of the Faithful, but are just as skeptical about the views of the Engaged Progressives. They are primarily white with blue-collar jobs, no college degree and lower income. They are less happy in their marriages, not particularly close to their children and think they are 'in a losing battle with all the other influences out there.' They spend less than two hours a day interacting with their kids and when they have dinner as a family, it is often in front of the TV. They dont usually monitor their kids' homework and their kids tend to have lower grades than those of the other parenting cultures. They are pessimistic about the economic future and their children's opportunities and 'seem resigned.' They say they believe in God, but dont attend church and religion in not an important part of their children's lives.
American Dreamers
This makes up 27%. They are optimistic about their kids' opportunities and abilities, and, even with relatively low household income and education they 'pour themselves' into raising their children and giving them material and social advantages. They try to protect their kids from negative social influences and strive for strong moral character. This is the most common family culture among blacks and Hispanics. They are more likely to be women, believe in God and claim religion as important but 'embrace a live-and-let-live morality when it comes to other people.' They voice opinions. Two-thirds of them are married, but they feature more single parents and count more on extended-family support. They are'very close' to their children and hope to be best friends some day. 'Compared to other parents, they are just as likely to offer their children praise and encouragement, but they are more willing to discipline them - by scolding, giving time-outs, threatening spanking, and spanking."
This leaves 13% called other. This is not discussed. Having read these descriptions, I can identify families for each of them, and I find I am less judgemental. We have no right to judge others; we only can make our choices and the judge ourselves. BUT...dont judge yourself too harshly. Every individual who comes to Earth has the divine right to free agency. Let God be the final judge; you will find that He will be less harsh with you than you are with yourself!
The Faithful
"20% of American parents, adhere to "divine and timeless morality" from traditional Christianity, Judaism or Islam to give them a strong sense of right and wrong. They try to preserve moral order, raising "children whose lives reflect God's purpose. They talk often with their kids about faith, have family devotions, attend church and pray before meals. ...A number of the Faithful attitudes line up with stereotypes of conservative Christians, e.g. use spanking, strongly disapprove of gay marriage or sex outside marriage, and the women embrace the role of homemaker. The Faithful want their famlies to be warm and emotionally supportive and think men should put family before their career, just as women should.
Engaged Progressive
"21% fall into this category. Morality centers on personal freedom and responsibility. They see few moral absolutes except the Golden Rule. They value honesty, are skeptical about religion and trust what "feels right," also allowing others moral latitude. They are the least religious.... They are pretty optimistic about today's culture and their children's future, hoping to help them become what the researchers call 'responsible choosers.' Their children get more freedom. By 14, they know about birth control, by 15, they surf the Web without supervision and by 16 they watch R-rated movies. They are politically liberal, support gay marriage, value tolerance and 'believe the playing field of life should be relatively fair and even.'
The Detached
19% fall into this category. Parents let kids be kids. They are skeptical of the 'old certainties' of the Faithful, but are just as skeptical about the views of the Engaged Progressives. They are primarily white with blue-collar jobs, no college degree and lower income. They are less happy in their marriages, not particularly close to their children and think they are 'in a losing battle with all the other influences out there.' They spend less than two hours a day interacting with their kids and when they have dinner as a family, it is often in front of the TV. They dont usually monitor their kids' homework and their kids tend to have lower grades than those of the other parenting cultures. They are pessimistic about the economic future and their children's opportunities and 'seem resigned.' They say they believe in God, but dont attend church and religion in not an important part of their children's lives.
American Dreamers
This makes up 27%. They are optimistic about their kids' opportunities and abilities, and, even with relatively low household income and education they 'pour themselves' into raising their children and giving them material and social advantages. They try to protect their kids from negative social influences and strive for strong moral character. This is the most common family culture among blacks and Hispanics. They are more likely to be women, believe in God and claim religion as important but 'embrace a live-and-let-live morality when it comes to other people.' They voice opinions. Two-thirds of them are married, but they feature more single parents and count more on extended-family support. They are'very close' to their children and hope to be best friends some day. 'Compared to other parents, they are just as likely to offer their children praise and encouragement, but they are more willing to discipline them - by scolding, giving time-outs, threatening spanking, and spanking."
This leaves 13% called other. This is not discussed. Having read these descriptions, I can identify families for each of them, and I find I am less judgemental. We have no right to judge others; we only can make our choices and the judge ourselves. BUT...dont judge yourself too harshly. Every individual who comes to Earth has the divine right to free agency. Let God be the final judge; you will find that He will be less harsh with you than you are with yourself!
Thursday, February 14, 2013
What Rules???
We are Area missionaries. There are temple missionaries, regular missionaries, and Area missionaries. We dont have a mission president. We serve under the Area authority. Elder Corbridge was president when we came. We have a new president now, but have never met him. Since we have been here, we have only spoken to one of the Area presidency twice: once as introductory, and the second because my recommend had expired. We dont know anything about any rules. Once in a while, after we have made a decision and advised the Area secretary of it, we are told that he would pass the word. We dont know the Area goals. We dont know anything but what our local leader (the office manager) tells us. He is usually gone because he has a heavy calling of establishing EFY for all of the Area. We dont see or talk to him much.
The temple missionaries have March off because the temple will be closed for cleaning. They always plan a trip to see some of Chile besides Santiago. We were invited to go with them. Jay made all the arrangements, we paid for airfare, hotel accommodations, and sight-seeing tours. We are going to Punta Arenas on the southern tip of Chile. We will be going out on the Straits of Magellan, viewing icebergs and penguins, etc. We advised the secretary as we were told to do.
The following Sunday, Elder Zaballos of the Area Presidency (headquarters in Buenos Aires) sought Jay out at church. Apparently we were supposed to get permission BEFORE we made any plans. That wasnt what we were told when we went to Mendoza, Argentina for three days with the same missionaries. He said to go ahead with our plans, but be sure to attend the meeting on February 19th for all the Area missionaries, where the rules will be.......announced?
I am soooo excited to be going. It will be cold. It never warms up much. I am making mittens for Jay and me. When we went to Norway in July '11, the night never did get very dark. We were so far north that the sun didnt go down much. There were about three hours of "night". Now we will be going so far south that the nights wont get very dark. It is hard to imagine that in a year and a half we will have travelled nearly Pole to Pole!
This may be our last trip while in Chile. I hope not. We would love to go north to the Atacama Desert part of the country. We hear it is the driest desert in the world. It is also where most of the copper mines are.
The temple missionaries have March off because the temple will be closed for cleaning. They always plan a trip to see some of Chile besides Santiago. We were invited to go with them. Jay made all the arrangements, we paid for airfare, hotel accommodations, and sight-seeing tours. We are going to Punta Arenas on the southern tip of Chile. We will be going out on the Straits of Magellan, viewing icebergs and penguins, etc. We advised the secretary as we were told to do.
The following Sunday, Elder Zaballos of the Area Presidency (headquarters in Buenos Aires) sought Jay out at church. Apparently we were supposed to get permission BEFORE we made any plans. That wasnt what we were told when we went to Mendoza, Argentina for three days with the same missionaries. He said to go ahead with our plans, but be sure to attend the meeting on February 19th for all the Area missionaries, where the rules will be.......announced?
I am soooo excited to be going. It will be cold. It never warms up much. I am making mittens for Jay and me. When we went to Norway in July '11, the night never did get very dark. We were so far north that the sun didnt go down much. There were about three hours of "night". Now we will be going so far south that the nights wont get very dark. It is hard to imagine that in a year and a half we will have travelled nearly Pole to Pole!
This may be our last trip while in Chile. I hope not. We would love to go north to the Atacama Desert part of the country. We hear it is the driest desert in the world. It is also where most of the copper mines are.
Lost / Found
Wednesday afternoon we left the office and crossed the street to wait for our bus. While standing and talking, we were approached by a middle-aged gentleman in a business suit. He had a little, dark blue booklet in his hand. He held it out to me and said something and pointed to the sidewalk about 10 feet behind him. I took the little booklet and discovered that it was a passport. The man explained that he had found it on the sidewalk "over there". It was a Chilean passport and appeared to be brand new. The duplicate ID photo was tucked in the back along with the receipt. There was no telephone number, but it said he lives in San Felipe. San Felipe is a small community near Vina del Mar, about 90 miles from Santiago. I started feeling his anxiety as he realized that he didnt have his passport. I imagined him searching his pockets, his briefcase, any bags he was carrying, then searching again, frantically. I felt his anxiety. Our bus arrived and we got on, trying to decide what to do with this document. We decided to find a carabinero. A carabinero is the State Police equivalent. They are the ones who really and truly enforce the law. They are the only ones to carry weapons. As we got off the bus, we located a couple of them across the street. The attendant at the bus stop hollered to them and they came over. I told them what happened, handed them the passport, smiled and said Gracias. Hopefully it didnt just go in a lost and found drawer somewhere in the depths of carabinero world, but that they located the owner and made arrangements for its return. We will never know.
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