Writing at night

Thanksgiving this year was great--happy, traditional, family centered. I should check the blogs more. I used to blame facebook for the slow down in blogging, but I don't have anything to blame for the very little I post on facebook!
Today was day one of year 38. What a lot of years together, and as the song wishes us: And many more!
I love reading Megan's posts. That's really what brings me to the blog spot! Ok, I am rambling.
Good night all.

Deja Vu all over again

Nearly seven years ago Michael and his wife moved to Rio RIco. They stayed with us while they found a house and got settled in. We had been here about a year, our garage was full of the things that still needed to be sorted after a move from a big house to a smaller one. We had two kids living at home, and then a third son came back. We were excited that our married son and his wife were coming to Rio; we looked forward to seeing them, being neighbors, attending church together. . .
But they had three dogs: 2 pit bulls and an old, much loved shaggy little dog.
I am not a dog person generally. We were going to move the younger boys into one room, but I did not want dogs in the house.
I thought it was reasonable for big dogs to be outside dogs, they disagreed. We compromised (?) finally when I agreed that the dogs could live in the garage, and Michael and his wife would also sleep in the garage. We moved our detritus to a storage unit.
This was in Arizona in late summer.
The dogs ended up in and out of the house. We all survived. But, it wasn't the best solution for a young newly wed couple. It's funny the things we dig our heels in on.
Michael moved away. Our grandson who was born here lives in California. I wish. . . .what? Lots of things.

Now a younger son has moved home with his fiance and 11 month old baby. No dogs.
We moved furniture out into the guest house (built since Michael lived here with the hope that it would provide a comfortable place for our kids to come visit, but now used by the missionaries.)
We arranged the other end of the house so that our son and family have a bedroom, bathroom and nursery. It's nice to have kids in the house again.
And, to bring it full circle--we have Megan's dog! Yes. He lives outside, and comes in to sleep in the evenings. He is happy here. His owner thinks he should be an inside dog. . . .
What is it with dogs?

Pretty soon

Pretty soon I'm going to post again

A warlike people

I talked to a man a few years ago who was born in the US but raised in Mexico, because he said, his father did not want him to grow up among a warlike people.
I have thought about that periodically wondering if it could be true, and so below, I quote Spencer Woolley Kimball:

We are a warlike people, easily distracted from our assignment of preparing for the coming of the Lord. When enemies rise up, we commit vast resources to the fabrication of gods of stone and steel -- ships, planes, missiles, fortifications -- and depend on them for protection and deliverance. When threatened, we become antienemy instead of pro-kingdom of God; we train a man in the art of war and call him a patriot, thus, in the manner of Satan's counterfeit of true patriotism, perverting the Savior's teaching:

"Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;
"That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven" (Matthew 5:44-45).

Monkey Traps

I read some years ago about a group of men who had gone to the jungles to capture monkeys. They tried a number of different things to catch the monkeys, including nets, but finding that the nets could injure such small creatures, they finally came upon an ingenious solution. They built a large number of small boxes, and in the top of each they bored a hole just large enough for a monkey to get his hand into. They then set these boxes out under the trees and in each one they put a nut that the monkeys were particularly fond of.

When the men left, the monkeys began to come down from the trees and examine the boxes. Finding that there were nuts to be had, they reached into the boxes to get them. But when a monkey would try to withdraw his hand with the nut, he could not get his hand out of the box because his little fist, with the nut inside, was now too large.

At about this time, the men would come out of the underbrush and converge on the monkeys. And here is the curious thing: When the monkeys saw the men coming, they would shriek and scramble about with the thought of escaping; but as easy as it would have been, they would not let go of the nut so that they could withdraw their hands from the boxes and thus escape. The men captured them easily.

And so it often seems to be with people, having such a firm grasp on things of the world -- that which is telestial -- that no amount of urging and no degree of emergency can persuade them to let go in favor of that which is celestial. Satan gets them in his grip easily. If we insist on spending all our time and resources building up for ourselves a worldly kingdom, that is exactly what we will inherit.

In spite of our delight in defining ourselves as modern, and our tendency to think we possess a sophistication that no people in the past ever had -- in spite of these things, we are, on the whole, an idolatrous people -- a condition repugnant to the Lord.
--Spencer Woolley Kimball

mending

This life of ours
These wasted hours
The time we've spent
And how it went;
Everything's done--
Oblivion.
The battle lost
Our hearts the cost.

Take heart dear son
Life's just begun
There's time to spend
to make amends--
The battle's won
By God's own Son.

His hand's extended
Reach out too
He knows your heart
He waits for you.

Hmm

Can't sleep, counting sheep. One A M Here I am.
Where are you? Wide eyed too?

One more time
Sleep's sublime. . . .

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
G'night