The Drive

Saturday at around three in the afternoon, Daniel and I decided to venture out of the house and take a little drive.
It was a beautiful day, the sun shining; although the clouds were also starting to team together.
Not knowing where we were wanted to go, we set out for Lake Shore and upon coming to the junction; we had a decision to make. Turn south and head for Benjamin, turn right and head for Palmyra, or straight ahead to West Mountain. We chose the latter.

It had been awhile since I had seen West Mountain. It is a beautiful area made more beautiful by the recent rains. Several new homes dressed the mountain. I suggested we should just keep driving and go around Utah Lake. He was game.

We passed Sandy Beach and the wind was starting to pick up as evident in the wave runners on the lake. Continuing on, we decided to pull over at a spot that looked like a great place to observe the beauty we were in the middle of.

Small white capped waves beat against the reeds and although we noticed minor debris from human occupancy (pop can, and what looked to be a piece of clothing that, without my glasses, I tried to imagine as the dried remainder of a snakeskin. Daniel cleared that up.), we didn’t let it deter us from the beauty of our Creators’ creation that we were now experiencing. By now the clouds were thick and almost black with it’s surety of rain. This just added to the dramatic scene. We made the determination, we would come again with camera in hand.

We jumped back into the jeep as the rain started coming and headed around the lake.
At this time the mountains were no longer visible and eventually we headed into what looked like the outskirts of a town. "Where are we mom?", Daniel asked. “Probably just outside of Lehi, I believe”, was my confident reply. I knew we were eventually going to be somewhere in N. Utah County. As we passed one building Daniel said, “Mom, that building read 'Genola Water Works' ”. "WHaaaaaaaaaat?" "Are you sure Daniel? Do you remember turning left to go south rather than going right”?......................................

Without the aid of the mountains to give us some direction, I lost some of my confidence. Not that I didn’t know where Genola was geographically and I could get us home, but how on earth did we get here and which direction were we now headed? Driving on a well-kept road, we just kept going, but which way? Was I taking us further south, or maybe west toward, I don’t know, Eureka? Somewhere between the laughter and unsettling in our stomachs (maybe just mine), Daniel pointed to the navigation compass that comes standard in most vehicles (duh….). “We’re going south”?
What a relief....................more laughter.

With that enlightenment, we made our way through Genola, into Payson, then Salem, and finally home.

We laughed. What a great drive.

My Visit to Delta

Last weekend my inlaws were going to Delta for a wedding reception and wanted to know if we would come along. I was excited to go back to Delta cause I hadn't been back for a really long time. When we first drove into town all the good memories came flooding back. We went to the reception and I talked to a couple of little old ladies and asked if they knew any of my gramparents. They knew all of them. I loved chatting with them and hearing their stories of my sweet grammas. One of the ladies I talked to knew Gramma Leona really well and even was in a club with her and went to the ball games with her. She told me that she was one of those people that made everyone feel special. It was nice to hear that, because that is also how I have always felt about Gramma. I also heard how Gramma Moody was such a wonderful woman in the community. It was fun to go to Delta and remember the past and our sweet gramparents that have passed on. It made me miss them, but also just made me thankful to have had them in my life.

Someone get me out of here!!

I have tried twice to make a comment regarding another person's post, just to make a small comment, and I think I have been quite creative in my observations. HOWEVER!!!, when I try to post the comments, they disappear into netherworld and I am frustrated because all the energy went for naught but my own amusement. Would someone please let me know how to submit a comment to another person's post? There is a little drop down box that apparently I don't have a clue about which one I am supposed to select. Ah well.....I move forward....

I am sharing a FEAR story...although not my greatest fear....

I am newly in the post of librarian at my school. This summer I have been changing some things around in the library and my office in particular.

I listened to Ender's Game this summer while cleaning and re-arranging my office in the library.

I was moving from one room to another while cleaning and filing stuff. The narrator for Ender's was male at that point and so hearing the male voice was companionable as it was later in the day and I thought I was on my own. I had forgotten that earlier in the week I had requested the custodian to come drill a hole in the brick mortar for a picture to be hung.

As I moved from the brightly lit work room into a small, darkened connecting hall to the office, I walked smack into two men who were back-lit by the windows of the library, their faces in shadow, who were carrying weapons er, tools. I screamed a mighty scream and all three of us jumped back wards. The head custodian, after I quit screaming and he and his younger assistant quit laughing, said, "Didn't you hear us talking?" I had heard the male voices and just assumed it was part of the narration of Enders Game. I am sure it will be a while before the young kid looks at me without laughing. The lead custodian would hold it over my head.... but he jumped as far back and yelped as much as I did, so I think I'm safe from him.

I think this is Bob's fault. He used to scare me all the time! Myrna and Kris, it wasn't just you two he tormented. I have several tales to tell ( :

Thoughts on Bob and Inez

My parents never, ever, gave up on helping young people...or old people...or anyone for that matter. There were times when they took people to the city cafe and bought them a meal because they were in our town, had gone into their place of business to see about work, and confided in mom their stories.

However, they did not bring them home, because they were wary about strangers as well. I asked my dad once why they bought people a meal, for total strangers, if they weren't sure about their character. Dad said that "Helping others doesn't mean you give them access to your treasures". He meant us kids because frankly, we were not that well-to -do.

One time they gave our dog to a family passing through. It was a puppy (little golden haired spaniel and something mix) that we'd only had for about a week. This family was moving from Indiana (or Iowa) to California and their dog had been killed at a rest stop. The children were devastated. Mom knew we could get another pup much easier than those parents would be able to ease the sorrow of the children on the move. Our own sorrow at losing the pup after a week was secondary. We survived the loss, and we did get another spaniel within the week. I had great parents.

My dad used to tell me that if I ever wanted to smoke or drink, to please let him be the person that gave me the first 'taste'. RIGHT! I finally asked him one day to let me have a sip of his beer. He gave me the can, I took a sip, and that is the one and only time I ever tasted beer. (At least on purpose. I used to sneak one and rinse my hair with it, he wasn't appreciative). It was the nastiest tasting stuff and a great learning experience, because if peers ever tried to pressure me, I KNEW I didn't like it and would never have said yes. Smoking, well, I had to breathe the second hand stuff and smell like it, so it was never something I wanted to try as a teen. (However, as an eight year old, I was pressured by two thirteen year old twins to 'take' some of my folks cigs and we'd go smoke them). I took a whole carton, not just a pack, a carton! Because after all, these girls were five years older than me and 'liked' me. We went up into the sand hills behind our house in Colorado and smoked that entire carton. I have NEVER been so ill in my life. When I got home I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth, or off of my clothes. I took a bath, brushed my teeth 'til my gums bled, ate green apples and then brushed again, more apples, etc. I was truly miserable and as green as the apples, I know this because many years later, I asked my mom if she ever wondered about where the carton of cigarettes had gone. She was pretty sure of when and where they went, she said , "You were ill for two days after they disappeared". I asked why she or Dad didn't accost me or ground me or something. She said, "We figured you'd been punished enough." And I had been. Great teachers to know WHEN the lesson has been taught. Sometimes, I resent their passing because you younger "Ridings" don't get to hear their wit and wisdom. They were good parents.

Seriously, if I don't post another thing for weeks, it's because I have HOMEWORK. I have to get an endorsement for the librarianship and am involved in online classes YIKES!! I do love all of you and am so glad to be a part of this family. The picture I posted was from a family reunion in the South last year. I'll try and find one of some more family and get them posted. We are blessed to have had the heritage we enjoy.

just a small questionare/help.

Hey everyone, this is Nick, I'm in the process of writing a "book" or something, but i needed some input.

what it is, is a book on how there are 4 things in our lives that work together to help you in life.

1) physical: being fit, as well as healthy
2) Mental: being mentally fit, by taking care of what's needed
3) Emotional: this is our relationships with others family/friends
4) spiritual: our relationship with Heavenly Father.

The purpose of this book is to be able to see how all four quadrants, rely on each other; Think of them as table legs. In life as we stack things on our table, we need strong support to be able to hold it all, so when one of those things starts to weaken, the other 3 need to compensate for the weakened leg, and as we keep adding things to the top of the table, it gets harder for all 4 legs, thus, the table breaks and we break. So you can see how it's important for all 4 legs to be equally strong.

I am going to break it down even further, into sub categories, but I just wanted to get some input from you all, maybe even some stories or circumstances as to how the 4 legs are in your own life.( if you don't want to post it, you can email me, just let me know)

Take me for instance; while on my mission, i struggled with some depression(mental), as I continued I began to feel very lethargic, and not wanting to really do anything(physical), my mission companion had to really work hard as if he wasn't already, but I wasn't doing anything, and it was really affecting our relationship(emotional), and not to mention, i didn't read one single scripture for days, i just sat and stared(spiritual). See how these all work together? by not taking care of my mental "leg" all of my other legs had to work harder, and they weren't strong enough either to pick up the extra slack.

So as you can see. it is very important to be able to work on all 4 aspects, as well as all the other things, but I just wanted to get a heads up as to how you all feel about it, and if you once again, have any input.

Please let me know of any ideas.

Love you all,
Nick

Seven Years......

Can you believe it's been that long???

I thought I'd share this with all of you.  I wrote it the day of Grandpa's funeral.  It's a mixture of everything I saw and felt that day.  I've been missing him so much today.  

*GRANDPA*

I feel your presence on the breeze

I smell your scent among the flowers

I feel your gaze across the sunset

I know you whipser with every drop of rain that falls

I know, someday, we'll walk the clouds together

that is my motivation,

that's what makes me believe.

And when I cry

You comfort me

I hear your voice through a wink of your tender eye

and with your smile,

sweet and simple.

As I wait for you,

I know you wait for me.

And this is why I sense your care

along this path.

And the beautiful river sends your callings to me.

I can feel your comfort,

I can feel your love,

I can feel YOU.

I love your touch,

your every caress I sense on my cheek.

If you believe in me,

I can do anything.

Til I see you again,

Wait for me.

*Cassie Buck Player* 

more stuff!!

my biggest fear is that I would not be able to get back into this blog!! But it looks like I made it so I have no more fears.
There is nothing quite like climbing up on a silo in late August or early September and looking out to the west, toward Nevada. Seeing the mountains, Swasey and Notch Peak - always there and recognizable - comforting. (I knew those mountains well, had spent days out there with friends, Young Men, my dad, Boy Scouts, and with my grandpa as he delivered fuel to isolated farms and towns out west. Sinbad Springs, Antelope Springs, Painter Springs, Amise Valley, Marjum Pass are all more than mere names to me - I had explored and camped in each place.) Often at that time of year, late summer, the thunderclouds would build up over those western mountains - the House Range. There would be a fine breeze (maybe even a wind) blowing in from the west and after watching carefully you would be rewarded by seeing some spectacular lightning, a great show, and shortly you would hear the thunder clap. But the best of all was to see the rain falling way out there, it's about 50 miles out to that particular range of mountains, and then to eventually smell that same rain, coming in on that same breeze, and bringing with it the sweet and delicious scent of new mown hay and sagebrush!! I had that experience frequently when I worked for Wallace Holman out in Sutherland between my sophomore and junior years of high school - summer of 1961. (Wow, that is a long time ago - it has gone fast!). It was a strange summer for me, to have that job with the Holmans', in Sutherland and Delta only about six miles away but I did not go home for three months, even for the weekends, even for church - I went to the Sutherland ward with the Holmans! I don't remember if I ever even bothered to ask why I could not go into Delta - I don't remember if my parents came out there to see me or if I even saw my sisters all that summer. I was only six miles away and I was there to work and I might just as well have been in Kansas!! Very strange!!
For whatever reason (maybe I was a delinquent!), working in Sutherland that summer for the Holmans, turned out to be a blessing for me because I will always have that wonderful memory of the smell of rain on sagebrush and new-mown hay - the memory of which has sustained me many times over the years when I found myself in tight places, places like Vietnam.