III. The grimmest fairy tale

Finally, we had the story of the 8 little children who lived on the edge of the cold North Sea. The oldest girl was the leader, and the children took care of one another. They lived by their wits, gathering sea shells in the summer to sell in the village so that they could survive the cold of winter all together in their snug little house.

But there were trolls in the mountains, and the trolls hated the sounds of happy laughter. Of course they wanted to make the children miserable. They planted a sea shell made of ice from the heart of the troll King on the beach, and the oldest sister picked up the shell.

The cold went right up through her fingers and into her heart and the laughter stopped. Before long she left the beach and the sunshine and went to live with the trolls.

Her brothers and sisters looked everywhere for her. When they discovered that she had been captured by the trolls they pooled their money, bought a mirror and climbed the high mountain. They slept in the pine needles under a tall tree outside the entrance to the dark cave the trolls called home.

With the first light of dawn, the little brother held the mirror so that the rays of the sun shone down into the cave, melting the trolls into puddles of dirty water and freeing the beloved big sister.

My oldest daughter hated that story. I didn't get it. I kept telling it.

I thought the story was about good and brave children who would do anything for one another. I think for me the meta message was that even the biggest, the strongest, the leader could by vulnerable and that only by working together could everyone be safe and saved. Or maybe, that by working together even the smallest and weakest could overcome obstacles as dangerous and treacherous as the trolls, bringing everyone back home.

So, after all these years, I want to say that the story showed how good and brave all 8 of the children were and how much they loved each other.

And there are still 8.. . And there are still trolls that hate the laughter of happy people, which is why we have to pool our resources, climb the steep mountains, sleep under pine needles--whatever it takes--to make sure that every one of you knows without a doubt that they belong to this group that will not abandon them in the cold and dark.

Come out into the light.

It isn't easy to do alone, but you aren't alone.

And no. This story was never about a bad big sister. She was the best and the brightest--her brothers and sisters gave everything they had because they needed her with them.

So much for fairy tales.

Good night.

II. more grim fairy tales

Another favorite was the Grinch. I personalized stories--depending if it was a son or a daughter the child who with all good intentions wandered away from the safety of the house and yard, was either a boy or a girl. And of course once they were away from the house, on the edge of the woods, the Grinch snatched them up before they even had a chance to see him.(Evil lurks!)

The world can be a scary place, and only by keeping their wits about them, controlling the fear and panic, and thinking back to advice and counsel from the past could the child outwit the Grinch and make it back home alive. It wasn't an easy thing to do, but in the end the child not only outwitted, but also bested the Grinch every time and made it home, while knowing that danger stood just outside the door.

But those were meta messages.
And, in the end everyone was happy to be safely home.

I. Grim Fairy Tales

Do you think fairy tales have meta messages? I mean unlike fables, which always end with the moral of the story, do fairy tales teach messages without consciously stating what the message is?

And does every listener get the same message?

We had some favorite stories that were told over and over again. The big bad wolf and the seven kids was a favorite. In the end the kids are all saved, and the wolf drowns. The kids had been warned by their mother not to open the door to anyone, but the wolf was tricky. Even when the kids thought he was really their mother only bad things could happen when they opened the door to him.

But was it right to fill his stomach with stones and let him fall into the river?

I always thought so. You have got to keep the wolf away from the door.

The Law of the Garbage Truck

message in a Christmas card. . .

"A lot of people are like garbage trucks--They run around full of garbage, full of frustration and anger and disappointment. As the garbage piles up they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump on you! Don't take it personally.

Just smile, wave, wish them well and move on. You never want to stay too close to the garbage. And don't take their garbage and spread it around to friends at work, at home or on the streets."

Some things never change!

This was written by a granddaughter of Charles Monk in Spanish Fork, Utah. She was a child in the late 1800's. . .

“Grandfather had some hives of bees. I remember one time when we grandchildren were small we poked a stick in the holes of the hive to watch some bees come out, and of course we received some stings which gave us a lot of discomfort. I have watched grandfather extract the honey he took form the hives.

I remember our kids, the great great great grandkids of Charles Monk poking a stick into a wasp nest at the park one year when we were spending the summer at BYU. Yes, wasps came out. Yest, they were angry!

But what kid could resist????

Mo Boy

It's so fun going through old papers. I get to throw away a ton of junk and then once in awhile I come across some little treasure. I found a letter I wrote to my parents on August 2, 1983--four or five days after Morris was born. So here are some excerpts:

Hi, I'm a little tired... I figure if I can just adjust to this schedule I'll learn to do without sleep altogether. Actually Morris went 4 hours last night without a peep! I laid down abt 1:30 for a nap and of course he woke up at 2:15.

Janelle fixed us a big dinner Sunday and we ate the leftovers yesterday. By dinner time its nice to have someone else looking after things.

Megan and Ari have been doing laundry. Its a 2 man job at their size. One stands on the hamper and hands down wet clothes while the other fills the dryer. Megan made my bed this morning. I was thanking them for being such big helps and they said, That's OK. We have to start school in a couple of weeks and then we won't have to work so hard.

I called Morrie Carlson, the announcer on KSL yesterday and asked him if he liked his name and if other kids teased him when he was little. (What do you mean? Why would they tease me?) He mentioned on the air that we were naming our baby Morris and he had helped us to see what a fine name it was.

Well, I guess I better go change the little pooper. Love you lots....

See what I mean? Such fun to find these little tidbits with the details we might otherwise forget. Thanks Janelle, and Megan and Ari. You are all the greatest.
Not to mention Mo, you little pooper!!

I love you all!!

The true story of Thanksgiving by Karne

OK. I have listened to people on the radio and on TV trying to explain the true story of Thanksgiving--everything from the failure of Socialism to the celebration of the subjugation of the Indians. WRONG. So here is the real and true story:

Everyone knows that a group of religious dissenters along with a group of settler adventurers came to Plymouth Rock to start life in a new world. Most were leaving Europe for better opportunities. Life was hard, the winters were colder than what they were used to, the plants and animals were new and unfamiliar. Many people died.

Fortunately, in the vicinity of Plymouth there was an area with plowed fields, buried baskets of seed corn and other stored food items, but no people. That seed corn helped the little colony survive through the winter.

Where were the people who had plowed the fields? Squanto was able to answer that question. He had been a part of the tribe that had lived in the area, but who had died the previous year in an epidemic of some sort. And why was Squanto still alive? He had spent several years working on a British fishing vessel. He had learned to speak English, had visited England, was shipwrecked on his trip back home, captured by Spanish who wanted to sell him as a slave, and bailed out by the Brits because he spoke perfect English. He got back to his hometown just in time to discover that his people had been wiped out.
Squanto was happy to see the pilgrims. He offered them the use of the ancestral fields, he taught them what foods were edible and which ones weren't. He helped them establish good relations with the neighbors, and basically helped them survive in the new world.

So, after the harvest, the Pilgrims held their traditional Harvest Festival, to thank God for the bounty of the new land, for the success of the harvest, etc. And of course they invited the neighbors, who also held a traditional harvest festival and came with venison and who knows what else. Games were played, food was fixed, and a great time was had by all. Friendly relations were maintained for generations--sixty years of more.

Now, imagine: Turkey, pumpkin, potatoes, cranberries, strawberries, corn, and other foods I can't think of at the moment were unknown in Europe. They are native to America and were unknown to the pilgrims prior to their arrival here.

So on this most American of holidays, we eat native American foods, we thank God for our survival, and we celebrate the fact that we live in America and escaped Europe!!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!! Welcome to the New World!

Immigration Reform--I guess we don't need a program!

Obama quietly filling major U.S. cities with amnestied illegal aliens

* November 21st, 2010 8:07 pm ET

Filling American cities illegal aliens


On Tuesday, the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse at Syracuse University released a report which examined the number of case dismissals in immigration courts across the nation.

The report found the following results:

-Houston dismissals grew from 10 percent in FY 2009 to 20 percent in FY 2010.

-In 2010 Los Angeles dismissals were up 11 percent from 2009, with 27 percent of illegal alien defendants going free.

-Both Miami and New York saw increases in case dismissals from 2009 to 24 percent and 11 percent, respectively.

As has been rumored for some time, the Obama administration has started a ‘backdoor amnesty,’ dropping large numbers of deportation proceedings against illegal aliens. The new policy actually began in Houston over the summer.

In August, Immigration and Customs Enforcement spokesman, Richard Rocha, announced that the Department of Homeland Security was reviewing thousands of immigration cases and prioritizing them according to criminal history.

If an illegal alien has no serious criminal record, that is, no felonies—deportation proceedings are simply being dismissed. Illegal aliens who have been inside the country for at least two years and have only been convicted of misdemeanors will be allowed to stay.

As was feared with this president, now that Obama realizes he cannot push an amnesty through Congress, he will simply do it by decree.

Read how Obama’s backdoor amnesty began: http://www.examiner.com/immigration-reform-in-national/obamnesty-it-s-here-feds-now-dismissing-thousands-of-deportation-cases

Hesiod and immigration

Hesiod, the Greek who lived between 750 and 650 BC wrote about his father who came to Askra at some time before 750 BC. A long time ago.

"Even as my father and yours brother,
Used to sail around, trying to make a living
And so landed here, after having journeyed much. . . .

Not running from prosperity or wealth or success,
But from the grinding poverty such as Zeus gives to men.

So he came here and settled in the Mount Helicon country,
In a miserable little community,
A vile place in wintertime, a hard place in summer,
A nice place never!"

So there they were, making a new life. . . .

Has anything changed in the intervening 2760 years????

Reading Hugh Nibley. . . .

The name Mephistopheles denotes the ultimate frustration of the Evil One, who with the worst intent in the world, can only contribute to the exaltation of man by providing the opposition necessary for testing him in the time of probation upon the earth. (Just in case you wondered who Mephistopheles is. . . )

In the early Christian Apocrypha Satan's rebellion in heaven begins not with a refusal to worship God, but with his refusal to bow down to Adam. "I have no need to worship Adam, "he says in one early writing,"... I will not worship an inferior and younger being. I am his senior in the Creation; before he was made I was already made. It is rather his duty to worship me! When the angels who were under me heard this, they refused to worship him also...", and so the revolt was on. (Pride goeth before the fall in a big way here. Also note the recurring theme of the older brother refusing to acknowledge the position of a younger sibling who is willing to follow God.)

"Now the Prince," says the recently discovered Bodmer Papyrus X, "not being righteous wanted to be God," he had his own counterplan to propose, and the apostates of the Church "actually accept the plan of the serpent whenever they reject God's plan." (That's the choice guys, we follow God, or we're following Satan who we have already rejected once. Come on, Hang in there on this one!)

"If I am a fisherman of men," says the Lord in the Gospel of the XII Apostles (a writing which Origen says is older than the Gospel of Luke), 84 "the Devil is also a fisherman, who catches many in his nets. ... If I have come to take for my kingdom those who are mine, why should not he do the same?" (Be aware! There is more than one net cast in the sea for you and for me!)

"O Adam," cries the Evil One upon meeting him out in the dreary world after the fall, "I was cast forth from my glory because of thee, and behold I have caused thee to be expelled from paradise... because thou didst cause me to become a stranger to my home in heaven. Know thou that I shall never cease to contend against thee and all those who shall come after thee ... until I have taken them all down into Amend with me!" (I assume Amend is Hell. Nibley assumes we know as much as he does. I do know that this contention will never end and it is up to us to follow the Savior.)


"Light and Darkness, life and death, right and left, are brothers to one another. It is not possible to separate them from one another," in this world, that is, though in the next world where only the good is eternal this will not be so.

"Truth did not come into the world naked, but she came clothed in types and images. One cannot receive the truth in any other way.

(Remember, and perish not.)

Ground Effect

I heard someone talk about ground effect recently. I knew immediately what it was and I knew that it could be dangerous. Ground effect is the pull on an airplane when it is close to the ground.
Why is it dangerous?
Because, an airplane flies best when it has air under it's wings, and more is better. But close to the ground, gravity and a lack of lift conspire to bring the airplane down.
This is why take offs and landings are generally the most dangerous times to be in an airplane. (Not counting terrorists.)
As a flight attendant for Pan Am I sat through many take offs and landings, and obviously I survived them all. But, I always gave a sigh of relief when we were up and flying free or, at the end of the flight when the wheels touched down.

There is no way to fly without taking off, escaping ground effect and allowing lift to raise and carry the plane. You have to pull away from the earth and into the air.

So, here is what I thought about: Ground effect in our lives are the things that keep us from being our best selves, from moving up and doing what we were born to do. It is dangerous, it holds us down, and if we can't overcome it it keeps us from being lifted by the spirit which is always there around us, above us.

Wouldn't you much rather fly than crash back into the ground? It takes power to overcome ground effect. But we have power.
So rev your engines, give it your all and soar.

Diet, no exercise

I went to the doctor awhile back with severe stomach pain. She told me I had damaged the vagus nerve, and my stomach could not contract. So she put me on a special diet. I followed the diet and lost 25 pounds, and then when I returned to the doctor she told me I had been misdiagnosed. So, here is the diet which did work in terms of losing weight and not feeling hungry.
First: Eat six times a day. No high fructose corn syrup, no soy.
Second: Eat liquids, soft, low-fat, and low-fiber foods. Include protein in every meal. This is your most important guideline.

So, here is what I ate generally--

Breakfast: poached or scrambled egg, small glass of 2% milk. small glass of juice. Cut fruit juices with water.
or small bowl of shredded wheat or oatmeal with 2% milk (oatmeal and shredded wheat bypass the fiber/protein rule)

Mid morning: fruit, fresh, canned or frozen w/out peel. Plain yogurt. I made fruit smoothies with fruit, 1/2 c yogurt and ice in blender. Nice.

Lunch: Cheese stick, 1/2 can chicken noodle soup or other thin soup.

Midafternoon: Small salad, with tuna or sardines or canned or grilled chicken;
or cottage cheese w pineapple or tomatoes or tuna etc. McDonalds grilled chicken salad is great, but on this diet I could only eat about 1/2 of it.

Dinner: 1/2 chicken breast or other meat (small 1/2!) green beans or other veggies, drink water.

Night time I started having 12 cup of plain yogurt w/bottled grapefruit slices and juice. It started to seem like a really delicious bedtime snack and is really low cal.

You could have white bread with your eggs, salad, etc. But I don't like white bread. I had saltines w/ the soup. You could have gatorade or other low cal drinks, but I preferred water. Drink something with all six meals.

I rearranged the meals for what I was hungry for at any given time. You have to eat something every 2 1/2 or 3 hours. I really cut my portion sizes. I adapted it as I went along, adding more fiber like carrot sticks, broccli, cauliflower, etc.

It was easy and I still eat less than I did before, but it is hard to eat 6 times a day now that I am not following the regimen.

Two of your meals can be liquid--smoothies, fruit or veggie. But remember to add protein everytime. Plain yogurt or cottage cheese, low fat make good base.

The doc said that 2% milk is a nearly perfect combination of protein, fat and carbohydrates. So I use 2%.

Also, don't try to go on a no-fat diet. The no-fat diet stops weight loss--your brain functions off of fat. You have to have a little fat. I only use olive oil in cooking--even in bread and cookies. (Healthy fat.)

So there it is. Simple. Use the foods you like that fit the guidelines.

Worked for me!!

Eighth Grade Memories

Afternoon shadows on pink cinder block walls
Recall childhood memories of hot, frustrating days,
Peeling, curled, cracked linoleum,
The armies of ants parading across unwashed countertops
The hope and joy of a new home, new school, new job
Turned stale and all too much like the last new hopes, new homes,
And new husbands.
The constant nagging dreads that tomorrow will be as much like today
As today is like yesterday.
MKH

Life in the garden

Everything I need to know
I learned in the garden.
Patience, perseverance, hope.
Water deep, nourish, hoe.

Plant the seed, wait,
Wait longer
Nourish hope, Keep adding
Water.

Keep out rabbits, keep out pests.
Protect the seedlings,
Put up fence!

Too much sun burns tender sprouts.
Too much wind can dry them out.

Then one day the world turns green.
Plants grow stronger—vines,stems and
Leaves.

Ground that’s planted keeps out weeds.
With some help gained on my knees!

Ticaboo Mesa

Mide Ticaboo--Hello friend!
Those were the words a Paiute Indian spoke to my great grandmother in the 1860's in the Sevier Valley of Utah. When I found those words written in the story of her life, it gave me the courage to move to Ticaboo.
It seemed like she was speaking to me! And so we too lived out in the wilds of Southern Utah. Those who remember it will have only happy memories I am sure!

Jaywalking

Coming back from the dentist across the line I crossed the street against the light. I jaywalked--when in Rome. . . .hey, in Mexico everybody jaywalks. I was exceptional because I jaywalked in the crosswalk, but I digress.
Crossing the street I thought of a conversation I had recently on consequences and rules. One of my kids told me about watching a man as he tried to cross a street in traffic. He was hit by a bus and thrown 20 or 30 yards toward where my son was standing. And he was dead.
He talked about how helpless he felt standing, unable to do anything to prevent the inevitable accident, a feeling almost of fear. Then I remembered and recounted an incident from years ago, when I lived in London. A woman was hit by a taxi outside our house. She lay on the sidewalk in front of the house with her skull fractured, thick dark blood oozing out of her head. We brought out a blanket, called the ambulance, felt uneasy, helpless. Not something you forget easily.

There are times when we think that those who break the rules should suffer the consequences, they should be brought up short, they should learn that they cannot break rules without consequences.
But--then when we see the stark reality of the consequences we have to back off. Do we really want to suffer the consequences of our foolish, thoughtless decisions?
Justice has its place, but I vote for mercy. Without mercy we are all stepping out in front of the bus.
And so in this life, I hope we learn, I hope we follow, and I hope that we do not always suffer the consequences of our actions.

Thank you for mercy, and second chances, and third. . . . Maybe we'll have time to learn and change.

Halloween

The house is decorated, the Jack-o-lanterns are lit, the big bowl by the door is filled with candy. But no trick or treaters have come to the door, no trick or treaters are expected--we live out in the hill country of Southern AZ. There are no street lights or sidewalks and kids want neighborhoods, houses close together, company!

But I had such fun carving pumpkins!

Wait!! There's the doorbell. A little vampire stands and asks for treats. Halloween success. These three pumpkins are for you Nola, and Gabe, and Ta! I do have more!

Tamazunchale

OK. I didn't actually do justice to Tamazunchale, San Luis Potosi, Mexico.
First. We always pronounced this town Thomas n Chahhhlie. Which is a pretty close approximation of the correct Spanish pronunciation and easy to remember.

Tamazunchale sits in a narrow valley with a deep gorge on the north side and mountains on the south, east, and west sides. When you come down out of the mountains from the north you cross a bridge over the verrrrrry deep gorge with a river in the bottom and make a turn to the right and you are in the town.
I think it sits in a little microsystem of its own. I don't know anywhere else this far north where you can grow cocoa for instance. But, I do know that when you cross that bridge you enter a different century. The popluation is Huastecan, people sit on the sidewalk shucking corn kernels from off the cob using an already shucked cob. I stopped in at a grocery store and looked at the copal wrapped in little rectangular packets. I was curious. I asked the storekeeper, a tiny woman with long braids, (made longer by the ribbons braided through her gray hair and tying the 2 braids together at her lower back) what the copal was used for. She looked at me like I was a real dummy--You know, you put it in the coffin with the deceased. Oh, of course. How could that have slipped my mind.
When the boys got haircuts with hand held clippers it was in the Plaza under a huge old tree, but in a proper barber's chair.
I don't know. I am not giving you the feeling of this place.
One thing more. There are two roads out of town to the south, both eventually take you to Pachuca, both run through the sierra in the state of Hidalgo, both look like they head into endless tropical cloud forest, shrouded in fog and mystery.
You know when your take-off point is Tamazunchale that you are headed out past the far end of the middle of nowhere.
I love that little town.
I wonder what's happening there today???

Tamales, Beaks and Claws

Continued from previous post. . . . .

We got to Tamazunchale, cleaned up and walked around the town. There were monkeys here, it was tropical! I bought cocoa beans in the market and the woman who sold them to me explained how to roast them in my frying pan, peel and grind them to make cocoa powder. We climbed the steep trails between houses on the hillside to the very top of the mountain and looked out at the ocean of green below us.

We bought Baygon at the drugstore and Mike sprayed the van thoroughly to kill any remaining scorpions. The boys got haircuts at the barbershop. The barber used hand operated clippers--no electricity. I wish I had bought a pair while I had the chance, though they did tend to pull the hair.

I went back to the market near the heavy colonial stone church and bought dozens of tamales from a tiny woman cooking over a little brazier. The chicken tamales were wrapped in corn husks, the pork tamales were wrapped in banana leaves.

Everyone was hungry. Everyone unwrapped their tamales and started to eat. What unexpected treats--a rooster claw, a piece of beak, a bit of bone with the pork. Somehow the kids lost their appetites. They just couldn't eat chicken tamales that had that much chicken in them!!

We crowded into a small room; everyone slept well. We were up early, ready to hit the road. Charlie and I walked up the hill to a panaderia and bought fresh, warm bolillos for breakfast. By the time we got back the van was packed and everyone was sitting up waiting to go.

The Smith boxes--collecting boxes about the size and shape of cigar boxes, but made of light wood--were stacked between the two front seats of the van. As we started out Mike asked me to hold the boxes, he was afraid they would slide around. As I picked them up I saw two or three scorpions under the top two boxes. "Scorpions," I yelped, and pulled open the door as I dropped the collecting boxes onto my seat. Charlie had the sliding door open and was half way out when we both noticed that no one else was alarmed. They weren't moving. They were laughing.

Something was really wrong here.

I was suddenly suspicious, and with good reason: While we had been busy getting breakfast the hooligans had discovered scorpions killed by the Baygon and planted them where they would be sure to scare us to death.

Back into the van, and down the road. . . .

Scorpions and Duct Tape

Continued from previous post . . . .
We headed down the road toward Tamazunchale in a heavy rain. Not too many miles south of Valles the road crew was out with bad news. The road was washed-out ahead, flooded and closed.

We looked at our trusty Guia Roji maps of Mexico and took a sharp turn to the east on a secondary--no, tertiary at best--road. We dropped down through a small town where the bulldozer pushed a path through the mud in the road for us to follow. The water had been 4 or 5 feet deep in the buildings on the sides of the road, but we were fortunate again. The water had receded, leaving only deep mud behind.
We stopped at a small Huasteca ruin at Tamuin and saw the partially excavated altars and temple mounds, then turned south on a road that could only be described as pesimo. Really ugly. There was a mist in the air, the tall grass was wet and butterflies covered the telephone poles along the road--even they knew this wasn't travel weather.

Charlie had been talking for days about getting a cowboy hat. When he got to Mexico he wanted to get a straw cowboy hat. We wanted to look at the butterflies on the poles, and pulled over to the side of the road. The van door slid open and Hopkins descended. Much to Charlie's delight the storm had blown a nice looking cowboy hat his way--there it was sitting it the wet grass. He snatched it up and tossed it into the van.

We spent a while collecting butterflies. They just sat and waited for us. They couldn't fly in the wet air. Coming from Arizona the air felt great. Finally we all got back into the van and ready to go. Suddenly, from the far back a voice yelped, "There's scorpions in the car!"

Mike hit the brakes and everyone bailed out. Sure enough there were scorpions looking for cracks to hide in on the floor of the van. Mean looking scorpions not quite an inch long. Lots of em.

While I stood gaping, Mike grabbed the duct tape and wrapped it backwards around his hand and started sticking scorpions to duct tape. When he had a handful he changed tape. They didn't have a chance.

One of the kids wondered aloud where the scorpions had come from, and the light went on as a chorus of voices sang out, "The hat!"

Mike snatched up the hat, and in the crown was the four inch mama with babies still scrambling down from her back. He did not try to trap her with duct tape. We didn't even put her in a collecting bottle. We crushed her dead.

Finally, hoping we had captured all her little poisonous offspring we loaded our offspring back into the vehicle and headed down the road. We traveled on roads that could have provided great moguls for skiers--if they liked mud. We traveled through tropical villages, under huge trees where we saw our first electric blue morpho butterflies on the wing, and finally, hours after leaving Valles we turned back west and hit the main road less than a hundred miles from where we'd started that morning.

We stopped in Tamazunchale and spent the night in a little hotel behind the bus station.

To be continued. . . . .

The brown van and bolillos

In the early 1990's we began vacationing in Mexico, spending the entire summer wandering from one interesting spot to another. We called these trips our TGV's--Tres Gran Viajes. On our second TGV we traveled over to Brownsville, Texas and then drove down to Ciudad Valles to spend our first night in an older hotel with a room on the second floor. The rooms were large and opened onto a wide covered porch. Drinking water was available in a large glass jarro outside the door. There was no TV, just double beds, ceiling fans, and space for eight kids to spread out on the tile floor.

During the night the hurricane arrived.

When we got up in the morning I volunteered to go to the panaderia and buy bolillos and maybe fresh fruit for breakfast. I stepped outside. It was raining. Really raining. I went down and got in the van. I think maybe Megan and Charlie came with me. We asked directions to the panaderia, got in the car, and headed south on the main street. The water in the street was deep.
It got deeper.
I turned onto a side street where I expected to find a bakery, the van stalled out. When I stepped out the water in the streets was up past my knees--maybe higher. No cell phones back then. No phone in the hotel room. Just me and the kids stuck in deep water. I walked--slogged--up the street and found the bakery, bought bread, bought carnitas next door. Asked if anyone had a phone. Someone pointed me to a house further up the street. Who could I call?
We walked back to the van with the food, wondered what to do. Across the street and down a little I saw a firestone dealer and mechanic. So it was back into the water and wading across four lanes of deep water through traffic.
I can't remember just what the mechanic did, except that he came and looked at the van and got it running and charged me nothing.

I was always lucky in Mexico.

Back to the hotel, warming up, drying out, eating, and back into the van.
Now we all drove south through the rain in our warm van headed for Tamazunchale.

To be continued. . . . .

Yes, I can!

Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it. -- Groucho Marx

(Thanks Sarah, I stole your quote!)

OctOber!

Must be October. Everything's turning orange and pumpkinny!

Great Quote!

I didn’t marry you because you were perfect. I didn’t even marry you because I loved you. I married you because you gave me a promise. That promise made up for your faults. And the promise I gave you made up for mine. Two imperfect people got married and it was the promise that made the marriage. And when our children were growing up, it wasn’t a house that protected them; and it wasn’t our love that protected them—it was that promise.
Thorton Wilder

In memorium to Don Garate:

As every flower fades and as all youth
Departs, so life at every stage,
So every virtue, so our grasp of truth,
Blooms in its day and may not last forever

Since life may summon us at every age
Be ready, heart, for parting, new endeavor,
Be ready bravely and without remorse
To find new light that old ties cannot give.

In all beginnings dwells a magic force
For guarding us and helping us to live.
Serenely let us move to distant places
And let no sentiments of home detain us.

The Holy Spirit seeks not to restrain us
But lifts us stage by stage to wider spaces.
We must prepare for parting and leave-taking,
Or else remain the slave of permanence.

Even the hour of our death may send
Us speeding on to fresh and newer spaces,
And life may summon us to newer races.

So be it, heart. Bid farewell, until
we meet again.
(adapted from Herman Hesse)

Chip, the family dog

In the spring of 1993 we decided to get a dog. I didn’t want a very big dog or a very expensive dog, so we looked through the want ads for a small dog that we could afford.
We found the perfect ad for a little blue heeler offered for free to a good home. That was us! We called and then piled into our little blue Honda Civic and headed out into the country—all the way out to Riggs Road near Queen Creek. We looked for the address and finally found a farm house off the road.

We knocked and a woman came out. We told her we were there to see the dog—that we were the people who had called earlier in the morning. She was very surprised. A family had just left with the little dog. She had assumed they were us!

Charlie, Megan, Michael, Steven and Graham (I can’t remember exactly which kids went with me) were all ready to take a pet home. Their disappointment must have showed on their faces. Suddenly the woman said, “Wait, don’t go. I have another dog. He will be perfect with your kids.”

Imagine my surprise when the woman brought out a three year old German Shepherd. This was not a small dog at all. But the kids seemed to like the big dog. The woman explained that the dog had been through training at the Police Dog Academy, but had flunked out because of his mild temperament. If we wanted him, we could take him.

Despite my misgivings the kids climbed into the little car with the dog squeezed in with them in the backseat. The lady even gave us a big bag of dog food. During the drive home I wondered if this big dog would behave. I wasn’t sure if I knew what to do with a big animal like this one. But there was lots of petting and talking which was reciprocated by licking. There was no barking, no lunging or biting.

When we got to the house dad said, “That’s not a small dog!” But he seemed to like the German Shepherd too. We decided to name him Chip in honor of his police dog training and the California Highway Patrol—CHP.

Just as the woman had said, Chip was a very friendly, mild dog, and he was very well trained. The afternoon was spent commanding Chip to sit, to stay, to come, to wait for a treat. He responded perfectly.

Dinner time came and everyone sat to eat at the big table in the kitchen. Chip went over, turned around several times and then settled onto the rag rug in front of the kitchen sink. When dinner was over and the table cleared, the kids went off to do homework or watch TV.

After a few minutes I came back into the kitchen to clean up a little. There was Graham, nearly three years old, lying on the rag rug with his arm around Chip’s neck. As I stood in the doorway watching Graham leaned over and looked the dog right in the face. “Come on, you can do it Chip,” he whispered. I leaned forward to listen. “Come on Chip, say Graham. You can do it. Graaaa amm.”
I started to smile, listening to the sweet little guy snuggled up to the big, nice dog.

And the big dog looked into Graham’s face, opened his mouth, and. . . .
licked him across his face!

Needless to say for all the years Chip was with us, Chip and Graham had a special friendship, speaking to one another in a language they both understood

What is Love?

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.

Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are.

Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I have it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.

MKH

Snap, and it's gone

In a casual conversation the other day I assured one of my sons that I would be around for another 30 or 35 years, and he laughed and said that wasn't very long. I agreed, but in 35 years I will be 96. That's kind of shocking and it isn't very far away.

Thiry five years ago I was about to give birth to our first daughter. Just yesterday.
Thirty years ago I had four kids and a fifth would be born within the year.
It doesn't seem very long ago. I feel about the same as I did then.

But this is life. It is happening right now, and it only goes one way. So start living it. Choose to be happy. Take risks, enjoy everyday. Be nice to the people who love you. Stop looking for perfection. Get married. Have kids. Now is the only time you can do it. Love your kids. love your spouse. Don't expect perfection!

Find a job you enjoy, or a job that will pay the bills and enjoy life. Make friends, keep friends. Say your prayers. Trust God. Put your life in order. You will be happier than you imagine.

But most important of all, call your mom regularly. She loves you, and she won't be here forever!

(And don't forget to call your Dad! He loves you too and he's already older than I am.)

Trip Log

All the way home from Utah I thought of all the great things I was going to blog about. Well, now that I'm home I just can't seem to get to it. So this is notice. Day 1 is coming! I promise. After I get all that other stuff done. . . .

Trip Log

All the way home from Utah I thought of all the great things I was going to blog about. Well, now that I'm home I just can't seem to get to it. So this is notice. Day 1 is coming! I promise. After I get all that other stuff done. . . .

Grow where you are planted. . . .

OK. So, when I plant the seeds, I tell them to grow where they are planted. But come the monsoons, they forget all of my advice and just grow everywhere!

The entire back yard is covered with vines: pumpkins, watermelon, cantaloupe, crook-necks, zucchini,and others that I have forgotten. They cover the carrots, the tomatoes the onions, the peppers. I have to dig through massive vines to find the fruits of my labors!! Ha ha.

The sunflowers on the other hand are drying out. This is the only one still upright, so it's time to harvest the seeds.

And the grapes? They can spread as far as they want to. I love em! What a gorgeous day!

Night time visitors

Right out of a Bug'f Life. Who would ever want to squish a good looking guy like this one?
Is Steven hungry or horrified? All I know is he has this fellow by the horn.
First a gorgeous female Strategus beetle came knocking on our window. We let her in, admired her and set her back outside the back door. Wouldn't you know it, a male wasn't far behind! And he was a really big and handsome fellow. We watched him for awhile and finally let him back outside to play!

President Obama and the post racial era

Here is an article that I found informative: http://blog.cagle.com/2010/07/20/president-obama-you-are-no-dr-martin-l-king-jr/ Enjoy!

No bagels for breakfast!!

I read an interesting item in the current Better Homes and Gardens: "Bring on the bacon and eggs! A new study shows that eating a little fat first thing and keeping the fat and calories low in the evening might ward off metabolic syndrome--a cluster of symptoms, including abdominal fat, high triglyceride levels, and insulin resistance--that increases risk of cardiovascular disease and diabetes.
You first meal seems to program metabolism for the rest of the day, says Molly Bray, PhD professor of epidemiology at the University of Alabama. A relatively fat rich breakfast helps you metabolize fats and carbohydrates during the day, while a carb rich breakfast seems to promote only carb metabolism, in addition eggs reduce hunger so you eat less at lunch and all day long. In a new University of Connecticut study breakfast egg eaters ate 112 fewer calories at an all you can eat buffet lunch three hours later than bagel-eating counterparts. They also consumed about 400 fewer calories in the 24 hours following breakfast than did their bagel buddies."

So there you have it. Wanna lose weight, fry an egg for breakfast!! I knew it all along. . . .

Lovely Sunday

Nice day spent with Steven. Maren and Justin came down, Liz came over. The weather is perfect, and it's time to refill the bird feeders~

Prophets

In the Old Testament the prophet Joel teaches that God will do nothing save He reveal it through the mouths of His prophets. God is active in our world today, and He continues to speak through His prophet on the earth today--God is the same yesterday, today and always. This is a wonderful gift to us. We can choose not to listen to God's prophet, to put our opinions above his, but in doing so we deny that he speaks for God on the earth today. And today we really, really need all the help we can get! So listen and follow the word,
After Christ's death and resurrection, and after the martyrdoms of the Apostles there began to be a falling away, and a perversion of the teachings of Jesus Christ. Paul and the other Apostles warned their followers of this apostasy, of the wolves in sheep's clothing who would enter the flock. A restoration of the gospel and the priesthood authority which allows men to act in the name of Christ needed to be made. The gospel was restored as prophesied in these the latter days and we once again have the keys of the kingdom, the priesthood and a prophet on the earth.
How did this happen? God the Father and his Son Jesus Christ appeared in answer to prayer to Joseph Smith as he inquired as to which church he should join. Over a number of years he was taught and prepared to reestablish the Church of Jesus Christ again on the earth as it was in the primitive Church. These keys and authority have been passed down to succeeding prophets since the time of Joseph Smith up to and including our day. It is for this reason that we can trust in the Prophet of God, who speaks for our time.

Scripture

I believe that the Bible, both the Old and the New Testaments are a gift of God, written and preserved for us by Jewish prophets in the Old World. I believe that the prophets of the Old Testament testified of the coming of Christ; that the Blood of the Lamb on the doorposts which caused the destroying angel to Passover the homes and spare the firstborn sons of the faithful was a prefiguring of the sacrifice of Christ, the Lamb of God. Likewise, the sacrifice of Isaac was in the similitude of the sacrifice of Christ and helps us to understand what was to come as well as God's love for us. (Only 2 small examples of many)

I believe that the Book of Mormon is a gift from God written and preserved for us by prophets in the New World, and that it also testifies of Jesus Christ. As Christ said, "Other sheep I have who are not of this fold." We know that Christ is the God of the entire earth and that his Atonement is in force in the entire world. Likewise he shared his message with peoples in every land.
The Book of Mormon was translated through the power of God and brings us closer to Him as we read and study His worlds.

Faith

I believe that the foundation of Christ's gospel is Faith in Jesus Christ, Repentance, Baptism by immersion, and the Gift of the Holy Ghost. Faith and repentance have to be constantly renewed. They are not a destination that we arrive at and there we are. We wax and wane and so we have to be mindful of our faith, tending it like a garden.
Christ gave us the example of the proper form of baptism when he went to John the Baptist and was baptized in the River Jordan to set an example for us and to fulfill the law of righteousness.
The Holy Ghost is real and personal in our lives if we listen, pray and seek guidance. What a truly great blessing.

I know that life is fragile but that God is mindful of each of us, he loves me, he loves you. Follow Him.

Atonement

I believe that because of Christ's atonement EVERY person born on this earth will be resurrected and receive an immortal body of flesh and bone. In addition, through obedience to God's law we can return to live in His presence. Through the Atonement we are given the opportunity to repent and prepare ourselves to live more perfectly, knowing that Christ has paid the price for our sins and imperfections, our pains and our sorrows. The Atonement is infinite and incomprehensible to me. It was an act of perfect love for us from our Older Brother, who we knew in the Spirit World prior to this life and who we chose to follow at that time. It is the greatest gift we could ever be given allowing us to change our lives if we so choose and helping us to do so when we choose. As Isaiah tells us, "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." This can happen only through God's grace and our acceptance of it.

It's a jungle out there!

Here is part of my garden. I took this picture before the rains. The monsoon rains finally started yesterday, steady and heavy all day.

This morning there were 6 hummingbirds on the feeder. I think I need more hummingbird feeders! And everything is still wet and dripping, all the leaves are standing tall. I love July in Rio Rico!!

Creation. life and death

I believe that the earth was created spiritually before it was created physically, and that it was created over six periods of time out of material that already existed.
Adam and Eve entered the Garden of Eden in an immortal state, but by eating the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil a physical change took place in their bodies, causing them to be mortal. As mortal beings they were able to have children and death became a part of life.
The Fall was a part of God's plan and was necessary for our eternal progression. As mortals we live in a probationary state--a time to prepare to meet God, to repent, to learn to love and serve one another. In 1 Corinthians 15:22 it is very clear: As in Adam all die, so in Christ all may live again.
The way for us to overcome death and to return to our Heavenly Father was planned from the beginning when Christ offered himself as a sinless sacrifice and an example that we can follow.
We are not punished because of the Fall, in fact it is a blessing to us from a loving Father who knows our imperfections.
I am an imperfect follower of Jesus Christ, trying to listen and do better!

Who is God?

I believe in the reality of God, our Heavenly Father, His Son Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost. I believe that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are separate and distinct beings with bodies of flesh and bone. I believe that the Holy Ghost is also a separate being, who at this time does not have a physical body, but acts through the Spirit to influence, assist and warn us as we are willing to listen.

In John 17:11 and in many other verses in the scriptures Christ exhorts us to be one, even as He and the Father are one. I believe that God, Christ and the Holy Ghost are one in mission and purpose, but are not 3 in 1!

I know God loves us and is mindful of us.

to be continued. . . . . .

It's July

We're past the fourth, enjoyed the fireworks, and the fire on the hill behind the city display, followed by the lights of the fire trucks. Every fourth should have such a display.
The heat is bringing in moisture and the moisture is washing away the heat.
Mid eighties and light rain today.
Monsoons should be here this weekend.
Hurray. The garden will rejoice!
Me too,
Lovely. . . .

Mothers everywhere worry about their children.

Two Muslim mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat's milk.
The older of the two pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping through photos. They start reminiscing.
"This is my oldest son Mohammed. He would have been 24 years old now."
"Yes, I remember him as a baby," says the other mother cheerfully.
"He's a martyr now though," the mother confides.
"Oh, so sad dear," says the other.
"And this is my second son Khalid. He would have been 21."
"Oh, I remember him," says the other. "He had such curly hair when he was born."
"He's a martyr also," says the mother quietly.
"Oh, gracious me..." Says the other.
"And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would have been 18," she whispers.
"Yes," says the friend. "I remember when he first started school."
"He's a martyr too," says the mother, with tears in her eyes.
"After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photographs and says...
"They blow up so fast these days, don't they?"

You know I love elephants. . . .

"One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters."
- 17th Century English Proverb

Teenage delinquents were killing their neighbors. A few years ago, the TV news program "60 Minutes" first reported on this story. But they weren't talking about humans; they were talking about elephants. It seems this story actually began about 20 years earlier in South Africa when an overabundance of elephants in a preserve forced ecologists to relocate elephants. It was difficult to relocate adult elephants, so most of the male elephants were killed and the young elephants and some of their mothers were relocated to another preserve.

Years later those fatherless and orphaned elephants developed into troubled teen-agers; teenagers that began harassing and killing other animals in the wildlife preserve - namely the scarce and prized white rhinos. In addition to killing rhinos, the juvenile elephants acted aggressively toward tourist vehicles. Eventually researchers had to kill five of the elephants because there is no reform school for animals. Or is there?

The park rangers began looking for role models. They brought in older bull elephants. The bigger, older elephants established a new hierarchy and provided much needed training and restraint for the young elephants. The lead field ecologist at the preserve compared the change to a group of teen-agers who have been acting up who are suddenly confronted by their fathers. After the big bull elephants arrived not a single rhino was killed and the younger elephants quickly fell into line.

A simple story. A simple truth. Societies, even elephant societies, need fathers.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY to all you great dads. (We need you old bull elephants!)

Traveling the back roads

Day 1 at Elephant's Feet


I was gone for a week and the garden seems to have doubled in size. Nothing like sunshine and water. Nice.
We took 600+ pictures. So this is just a tiny taste of vacation.
Especially tiny since it quit adding images.
Oh well. Have a nice day!

A letter to a friend

Irisita--
I don't know what the media are saying in California, but Arizona is a wonderful place to visit. Remember, one in three people in this state are Hispanic--do you think the police are going to be stopping every third person??
The bill that was just passed does not allow the police to stop anyone to check their immigration status. The police can ask for proof of status only after stopping someone who is breaking the law.
By the year 2050, Hispanics will be the majority here. In Rio Rico/Nogales they have been the majority forever. I think the non hispanic minority at the high school made up about 6%.

But the real issue is not ethnic, it's criminal--the Mexican cartel mafia, with its kidnappings and crime is operating in more than 200 U.S. cities. Arizona, with its proximity to Mexico, is one of those. Phoenix is second only to Mexico City for the number of kidnappings World Wide.
The “anti illegal immigrants” legislation that was just approved is related to these violent events, and it doesn't go into effect for another month. Our Attorney General talking about the kidnapping rate in Phoenix said today that for other than illegal aliens Phoenix is one of the safest cities in the world. The travesty is that the kidnappings are Mexican gangsters preying on Mexican illegals.
I'm kind of getting off target here, but the point is that Arizona is not anti-hispanic. Arizona is anti-criminal. The federal government needs to figure out a real policy on immigration. But right now, living on the border we see the downside of the drug trade daily--seven bodies were found in Nogales, Sonora again yesterday.

We wish it wasn't happening in Mexico.
We don't want it to happen here.
Sorry for the diatribe.

Roots

Just a thought. It takes patience. You plant a tree, it seems to grow an inch or two a year. But, it is growing roots. And in three or four years the tree will suddenly take off and grow from a sapling into a real tree. Even the seeds I plant. I watch the ground sometimes for weeks, then suddenly up pops the little plant. We don't see the roots, but we all need them. And patience. And time to grow.

Immigration and the backyard

Mexican Margaritas and African Aloe
Fred at the waterhole

I live in a garden. It takes some work, but I like the results. I had to decide what it was I wanted to grow and whether the plants I planted would be compatible with each other. (Yes, it is true, some plants do not thrive next to some other plants!) I select my seeds carefully from a wide variety of choices. I use both heritage seeds and hybrids, and I save seed from year to year. When I look out at my garden I see my mammoth Russian sunflowers, my Swiss Chard, my African daisys, my margaritas, and of course my native gourds, tomatoes, peppers and squash. I have yellow cucumbers, and purple zucchini. I have Peruvian potatoes--There is alot of variety and it works pretty well. Oh, and don't forget the Chilean mesquites.
There are another kind of seeds however that take root in my garden univited. These seeds come over the wall or under the gate. They take root, and if I am not vigilant they literally strangle some of my other plants. These are called weeds. I spend a few minutes six days a week pulling weeds and feeding them to Fred. But, I can't use an herbicide because it is too broad in it's effect. The herbicide would kill the weeds, but it would also kill my sunflowers, my chard, lettuce, carrots, squash, tomatoes onions, Italian grapes, Indian corn and so on.
And it would make Fred sick. Me too.

Once again. With immigration aren't we painting with too broad a brush, or spraying with too harsh a chemical? Isn't there a need and a place for the beautiful, the delicious, and the healthy. Can't we nourish the good and eliminate the destructive at the same time.
And can't we admit that there are both?
If we can't recognize this simple truth, the weeds will take over.
I won't let that happen in my garden!

El Universal (Mexico City) 5/22/10

Proposal to combat human trafficking in Mexico
Chiapas – During the XV Regional Conference on Migration held in the southern state of Chiapas, vice-Ministers of North and Central America agreed to combat the traffic and smuggling of migrants. The assembly, consisting of representatives from Belize, Canada, Costa Rica, El Salvador, United States, Guatemala, the Dominican Republic, Honduras, Nicaragua and Mexico, agreed to strengthen and normalize policies for the repatriation of undocumented migrants. The representatives from Guatemala and El Salvador demanded that Mexico stop the violence, maltreatment, abuses and murders committed against those without papers who transit across Mexico’s territory to reach the US. They cited in particular the recent assaults by federal police on undocumented Central Americans riding freight trains. There are abundant times the Salvadoran government has sent diplomatic notes expressing displeasure for assaults and abuses committed by Federal Police against migrants. The Mexican response is that they are investigating the complaints.

Immigration

Let's get serious here. We don't want to kick people out of the country. We need to change our whole mind set. We need people, productive people. We need people who want to be a part of this country and who come to work and make a better life. Better life =better country. Right? What we don't want is corruption, drug running, human smuggling, corrupt politicians, violence...
What we need are laws that facilitate legal immigration.
What we also need is for law enforcement to be able to focus on criminals--real criminals, not unauthorized entrants who don't fall into the narco, gang, corrupt, smuggler categories.

Example of the day: I have a neighbor who was born here in Arizona. Her parents were both born here in Arizona. So were her brothers and sisters, and her kids. They are all US citizens.

Her grandparents came to the US from Mexico more than 50 years ago. Her grandmother was 10 years old when she came here with her parents. She is now more than sixty years old. She is illegal.

That's right. The grandparents do not have residency papers. They have lived here all their lives. Why would anyone want to deport them? They have 4th generation family members living here in this country legally. Something is wrong here.

AND they are not unique. I think I will give you another example manana. And the day after that. Immigration law does not make sense.

SB 1070 is not the problem. The entire immigration law at the federal level, and people's perceptions and fears are half the problem. Criminal illegal immigrants are the other half. Who will work on making a system that makes sense instead of working only on reelection?????

Demography is destiny

Thank you to United Families International for an excellent presentation on demographics--really it is kind of scary how completely people want to disbelieve the facts. READ this interesting article below:

http://unitedfamiliesinternational.wordpress.com/2010/05/13/demography-is-destiny/

Pain in the neck

So after canceling Friday's surgery, we get a call this morning saying the fine doctor has decided to operate on the elbow on June 7 and do the neck later. Can anyone explain this?
No, he is NOT smiling. He is gritting his teeth. (See below)!!

Scheduling

Isn't there a better method of scheduling hospital procedures than calling at 8 in the morning to say that the previously scheduled surgery has been postponed for a month, AND that they have decided to operate on the upper spine instead of the elbow? OK. We'll wait and see what happens a month from now. And, I hope they give us a day and time before the morning of. . . .

They're wonderful, they're wonderful

My kids that is! I found a box of tulips outside the door this morning. No card. I called and texted, but no one claimed credit. Finally, I asked the youngest about flowers
"The tulips? They're from all of us."
And I know who you are. Thank you.
Dozens of tulips, gorgeous flowers!
Then, this afternoon the neighbor girl came over with another box. "This was delivered to us, but it's for you" she said.
Calla lilies. from Megan. Beautiful.
And the mirror I got across the line I also consider a mother's day gift from my honey. Sweet!

Hugs

I remember when Iris came from Chile in 1965. We met her at the airport and all very politely shook hands. She told me later that she was devastated, we were so cold and unfriendly. Chileans hug. And that is why I love living on the border. I just came home from church. I got my full quota of hugs this morning. You don't shake hands. You hug, you kiss, men, women, children. Four of our kids and 3 of their novios plus Mike's little sister from Utah were here yesterday. We grilled carne asada and ate and talked, laughed and acted silly. The boys wrestled like puppies. It was good to have family in the house. When it was time for everyone to go home we hugged and kissed each one before they left the house. Mike's sister stood back and watched. You've got to admit, it's not cold or unfriendly.
Abrazos amigos!

Shhhh. . . .

I went out into the yard this morning early to feed Fred. I stood in the early morning light, enjoying the green that is returning to our hills, the quiet, the. . . quiet? I heard a low drone coming from the pepper tree. I walked under the tree and looked up. It was so loud under the tree that I expected to see a swarm of bees.
The tree was full of bees, no swarm luckily, but full of pollinating bees, covered with yellow pollen. We had to go to Tucson, but I thought about the tree all day--I want to enter a photo in a contest called Pollinators of Southern Arizona--yes, a small niche contest!
When we got home about 4:30 I put the longest lens on the camera and went back out. There were still bees, but the sound was subdued. I stood outside for a long time, taking bee pictures. Then I heard a helicopter kind of sound coming in for a landing. I looked for the sound and found this tarantula wasp. As soon as he landed I was back to a low drone. A few minutes later a loud whistle streaked past and I watched a huge bumble bee fly from the north end to the south end of our yard and over the wall.

I usually don't hear the bugs. I certainly don't listen to distinguish the sounds of one from another. But, this afternoon I could hear, it must have been magic.

More on roses

I used to look down on roses. Just another pretty flower that needed tending and care to really grow. Too showy, too flashy. But I have changed my opinion. Now I wonder why I haven't taken care of roses for much longer than I have. It's nice to be pretty and to smell good. It's good to be colorful and open to the world. But, it's also important to have thorns. Never forget the thorns. There are predators out there and even the sweet and beautiful need to keep up their defenses. Not just anyone can take hold of these stems!.
And I like roses because the more they're pruned, the more flowers you trim and put into a vase so that the house smells rosy and good the more the rose bush produces flowers. If you ignore the blossoms and let them die on the stem, that's it. But if you trim and enjoy the flowers more and more will grow.
The rose is related to the apple. I can feed the leaves that I trim to Fred. He doesn't mind the thorns. I am sure he prefers rose petals, leaves and stems to cactus. It's sometimes hard to tell with a tortoise, but I do know that he loves tomatoes and strawberries. Maybe he just likes red. If I wear sandals into his domain and if and only if I have red nail polish on my toe nails, he nips at my feet. That is the only time in all our years together that he has ever nipped at a human, but he never fails to go after red toenail polish.
I still think rose petals are a better choice. Luckily there will be roses all through the summer. Good for Fred, good for me.
So, if you sometimes think I'm prickly remember that I am also beautiful and I smell great. No, I am not a rose, but I too thrive in the garden.

After hours poring over the Danish census, I turn back to my novel . . . .

"Once you get started in these things it is addictive. You wonder if everyone and everything in the world is intimately related. You're a time traveler and suddenly the past is alive, the dead are walking, cracked walls gleam, the rivers run free. Those old newspaper files are just a keystroke away and you're off on another search. You pluck a thread and it leads to. . . .everywhere. Is there a limit to relatedness?" (from The Tree Bride by Bharati Mukherjee)

Water

If thou knewest the git of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink; thou wouldest have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water.

Without water there will be no garden. This is a fact of life in the desert. Without water there is no life.
Every day I water. (I cheat--I have six hose timers) The garden is still young and fragile. I have tiny peaches and tiny nectarines. Little 5/8 inch fruit. I was so delighted to see that baby peaches are fuzzy, but baby nectarines are already shiny and red. What should I have expected? But, no water, no fruit.

It has been overcast for 3 or 4 days but no rain. Still, the cooler, indirect sunshine is good for new and fragile.
Drink deep.
We are new and fragile.
Dehydration kills the body

Think deep.
The spirit may be fragile.
Dehydration kills the spirit.
Drink deep and live!

Six times a day?

Well, no more BBQ ribs for me! Dang. I went to the Dr today and she said I can only eat small meals, but I can eat six of them every day! And nothing with high fructose corn syrup or soy. Doesn't that mean nothing that is canned or bottled? Oh well. I guess I'll be stuck with my regular day long snacking on carrots and grilled cheese sandwiches--on home made bread--, with shredded wheat for breakfast and smoothies when I'm bored. It's the break in the routine that kills me, those occasional real meals!

Are poppies weeds?

My yard guy came over to weed the yard. We walked around the whole yard, front and back, and looked over the hill. There was nowhere he could weed without taking out the spring poppies. They are spreading across the yard more every year. We finally decided we couldn't weed at all until the poppies go to seed. So the weeds and wildflowers have full reign for a couple of more weeks. Isn't it great!


These are African daisies. They absolutely cover the fields off Continental Rd in Green Valley--at a nursing care complex. Last year after they went to seed we brought home a handful of seed pods. And they are growing where they have water. Next year they too will be everywhere. I love it!
Well, this was the beginning of BBQ ribs before I cut up the peppers. But since they too are pretty and colorful, here they are.
And I hope you too have a beautiful day.

Who are the dumb animals?

I found a quote I like:
"Cows are not troubled by their calves. Mares are unperturbed in their love for their foals. The smarter people become the more their kids bother them. What happens to simple sweetness? Who are the dumb animals?"
JPS Brown, cowboy

I'm with the cows and horses on this one. I vote for simple sweetness. I think we all need a little more sweetness, a little less trouble and perturbation.
Guess I'll start with me!

A piece of the family Tree

My mother in law was out walking last night at about 7:00 PM and suddenly fell to the sidewalk headfirst. You may ask what an 87 year old is doing walking the streets of Phoenix at that time of the evening. She was on her way to some friends' house to share in family home evening with them. A member of her church ward happened to be driving down the Street and saw her fall. He pulled over to see if she needed help. Another ward member saw her on the sidewalk and also stopped. They called the paramedics and got her down to the hospital. Then they called her bishop. He went to see my mother in law at the hospital, then called the facility where she lives. Not getting an answer on the phone he went over to her building and pounded on the door until someone let him in. He asked that a list of her medications be sent to the hospital, and then he called and notified us.
I am happy for the support systems that we have, for people who are willing to stop and help when they see someone in trouble, and for those who go the second mile.
We all need a support system. As they say--No one expects the Spanish inquisition. Or even a header on the sidewalk.
Today she will get a pacemaker and a CAT scan of the head, just to check that nothing is broken. Her heart was beating well, except that it stops and takes a pause now and then. Not a good thing if you don't want to pass out.
Life goes on, thanks to good friends, good family and caring acquaintances. And there is nothing like having brothers and sisters in the Gospel to back up the rest of us who aren't close by.
Thank you so many times.