Made my day...

When we got home from our walk, we were greeted with such a creative gift from one of my primary children (and his amazing family). So thoughtful. It just made my day!

OCD

I must admit, I'm a little OCD when it comes to wasting food. I think it is a familial disorder which I attribute to parents impacted by the great depression.

When people deliver food to my house, I feel compelled to eat every bit - both to honor the gift and to avoid waste. I make cookies to use eggs that are getting old, scour my cookbook for a way to use dated sour cream, make banana bread when the bananas are fit for nothing else, and am thrilled that I found a way to use ice cream that is past its prime.

For the last several years, I've found a new way to avoid waste without it going to my waist. I leave it in the student break room in the department. Of course, I have made scotcheroos or taken chocolate milk mix for the express purpose of sharing, but usually I take food I just can't consume. Garden produce is loved, but they will eat anything. I've left ramen noodles that were nearing expiration, excess cereal that had been opened, cookies that were leftover from FHE, and even half-bottles of pop. While you can hardly take a half bottle of pop to your neighbors, when you leave it in the break room, everybody just assumes that someone else had the first glass - which of course, they did. It just wasn't the same day. Yesterday, I took a half bottle of coke, added a full bottle of Sunkist, threw it in a bowl of ice, and graced it with a stash of plastic cups. That afternoon, there was a party as a bunch of students sat around drinking pop and visiting.

My "treats" are left before students arrive - both because I get there early and because I don't want to advertise the fact that they are just getting left-overs. Thus, it isn't clear who is bringing stuff.

A few weeks ago a fellow knocked on my door asking if I was the one who brought the hot chocolate mix. He wanted to let me know how much he appreciated it. Another day, someone posted a note in the break room "Thanks Dr. Allan".

Pretty nice when you can be thanked just for being OCD.

Grandma must be smiling

This weekend, we made the trek to Boise for chocolate dipping. For Kimberly's new family, it was a first. Lori has never dipped for herself (being as she is allergic to chocolate), so it was a first for her too. From the evidence of missing chocolates, Kim's kids appreciated the tradition.

Michelle, Trisha, and Greg are planning to dip this weekend.

Grandma would be so proud. It was always so important for her to pass down the skills. Since chocolate dipping always hit at the cross section of the term winding down and holiday events picking up, it was hard to find the time to make it happen. I would start to get phone calls. "Smiths is having a sale on peanuts." "There is a coupon in the paper for the good kind of sweetened condensed milk." "Do you want me to order your chocolate with mine?" I was slow, but I got the hint. How proud she must be that so many of her offspring keep the tradition alive.

As we got home from Boise, Greg cooked a gourmet dinner for us: grilled pork chops with blackberry sauce, baked asparagus, baked sweet potatoes fries. Yum! He must have inherited some of Grandma's love of recipes and cooking.

Smile away, Mom.

It takes a village...

When Kim’s hematocrit dropped after 12 years of being stable, the National Institute of Health wanted to see her again. She had been to see them as part of the ALPS study in September of 2010, but because she was basically symptomless, the visit was routine. Kim has been having a lot of muscle pain (in back and shooting "fireworks" kinds of migratory burning) for the past two years, but nothing that the NIH thought was ALPS. With the drop in hematocrit, everything changed.

On Monday, August 8th, Kim sent a text saying that because I was her Mom she thought I would want to know that she was headed to the NIH. After a quick phone call, I started making my reservations to go with her. I had never been, and I hated to see her make the trip alone – especially since she was in so much pain and had absolutely no energy. Her appointment was on Thursday/Friday, but the schedule was loose. They wanted to do blood work , have an echo exam, and a bone marrow biopsy. The wrap up meeting was scheduled for 12:30 on Friday. Because flying to the East coast takes most of the day, I planned for an early flight on Wednesday. My only constraint was that I needed to be back in town by Saturday so I could tend Ari, while Trisha and family went to the lake. I scheduled the last flight out of Washington Dulles – leaving at 5:55pm. There was only a forty minute layover in Chicago, but I figured Southwest would make sure I wasn’t left behind. Besides, I had few choices, if I wanted to be there for all of her appointments. It seemed silly to go that far and miss the summary.

My flight on Wednesday left at 6 a.m. I drove to Chelle’s the night before so I wouldn’t have to get up so early. Getting to Bethesda went smoothly, including finding the NIH shuttle to take me to campus.

It was so great to be there with Kim for two days. We talked non-stop, and literally ran from appointment to appointment. During our time at NIH, Kim met with physical therapists, rheumatologists, and the ALPS doctors/researchers. She had an MRI of her pelvis and lower back, a bone marrow biopsy, and lots of blood work. The research nurse talked to us about ALPS and risks associated with it. Kim met with teams of doctors who explained exercises, medications, and types of doctors to consult in Boise. It was indeed ALPS. T-cells were in her bone marrow. A new medication was proposed.

The final wrap up meeting slid until 3:15, but I needed to catch my shuttle (provided by NIH) back to the airport to make my 5:55 flight. About 3, I got a text from Southwest saying my flight was delayed a half hour. My first reaction was, “Oh, that will be nice as I won’t have to rush so much to get to the airport.” Then it hit me. I only had a 40 minute layover in Chicago. Leaving thirty minutes late meant there was no chance of making the flight.

While I was waiting for the 3:30 shuttle, I called Kim to tell her my flight woes. She said, “I should call Southwest.” I said I would see if I could get a number at the shuttle desk, but there was nobody there who knew a thing. I woman who was also waiting for the shuttle said, “The number is 1-800- I FLY SWA”. Then she added, do you know what numbers those are? On a cell phone, there is no number associated with a letter, so I was clueless. She looked it up for me on her computer and told me the translation. I called and the agent told me there was no other flight that night, so if I missed my connection, I would be in Chicago for the night. He hesitated and then said, “Can you get to BWI?” I said, “BWI, I don’t know. What is BWI?” He replied, “Baltimore Washington International.” I said, “I’m waiting for a shuttle to Dulles that should come any minute. I don’t know how to get to BWI.” A woman in the room interrupted me with, “There is a shuttle coming for BWI to this very spot. It should be here any minute.” I told the guy I could get to BWI. He said, “Great, I’ll put you on a 5:15 flight that IS on time.” I said, “I’ve already printed boarding passes. What do I do?” He said, “When you get to BWI, you’ll have to get a new boarding pass.”

Whew! However, by now it was 3:40 and I had no idea how far away BWI was. The shuttle driver was cowering in the corner saying traffic was HORRIBLE. He had left BWI at 1:30 and was just now getting to the NIH two hours later! It was normally a one hour drive, but on Friday, rush hour had begun. I said, “Rush hour at 1:30, how is that?” He said, “It happens every Friday. It’s just crazy.” I called southwest back who told me I had no other options, and wished me luck.

All the way to the airport, I kept thinking, “I so am not going to make it. My flight leaves in an hour and a half and I don’t even have a boarding pass.” I got to the airport just before 5. The first thing I heard was an announcement saying, flight 709 was boarding. ARGGG. I figured I’d talk to the ticket agent and see if they would put me on a flight with another carrier. I had promised Trisha weeks ago that I could take Ari, and spending the night in Baltimore hardly seemed appealing. The southwest agent greeted me and said I needed to print a boarding pass at the kiosk. As I got it printed, she watched me. As I finished, she approached and told me I needed to go thru security in the basement as it was faster. I ran down the stairs, only to find the line moving like molasses. I waited my turn. When I got to the agent at the front of the line, I said, “I realize I’m not going to make my flight”. He said, “Okay, well, this is how the gates are laid out. You have to go up some stairs then back down. Gate 1 is on the left.” I flew down the corridors dragging my laptop, carryon luggage, and a backpack. I got to the gate before the plane left, but the door was shut. The lines for the ticket agent were forty people long. I saw one woman at the front of the line say something to the agent and run for my gate. I followed her. Another fellow followed me. The door to the gate was still closed and no one was around, but miraculously, as we got there someone did come through the door.

The woman said, “ I love you guys. I’ll always flight Southwest because you take care of me.” He said, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. We are all ready to leave. I may be able to help. “ She handed him her boarding pass. He said, “Sorry, this isn’t an official boarding pass. This is just a travel document. You’ll have to go upstairs and get a boarding pass. You’ll never make it. We are leaving NOW.” I handed him my boarding pass, and he sent me running down the jetway. The fellow behind me didn’t have a real boarding pass either. I was the only one of the three who made the flight.

I could not believe it. I made it. I looked back on all the helpful people who had made it possible. It truly takes a village sometimes. Thanks to you all!

Five new grandkids in one week!

It was quite an eventful week. Ari was born on May 26th.

Kim was married June 2nd.

Thanks for all the family support. It was great to see so many of you.

Wacky Wednesday

I brought a few new books for the kids when Steve and I went to spend time helping out after Ari's birth. The Berenstein's Bear book was pretty lame, but Halle and Zach both really liked "Wacky Wednesday" and "Have You Seen My Dinosaur?"

We planned to take pictures and make them wacky, but this is as far as we got. Given my photoshop skills, we may get no further.

Playing Princesses

One of Halle's favorite things to do is to play princesses.

As you can see, she has Barbie-sized and miniature versions of the same dolls. Here is a bit of our play time:

Halle: I'm on a motor cycle. Do you want to ride it?

Ariel's up here. Come on. Eric get down.

Me: How do you jump up there? Halle: Be careful

Me: How do I get down now?

Halle: I'm falling. Ariels' waiting for Eric. Let's walk to the ocean.

Here's a glass. It doesn't break. Do you want more? That one's dirty. You need a new one. This is Kool-Aid. Let me poor. You want another cup? We both have Kool-Aid. I spilled it on you. You like water better. Hand me the cup. I need to put in back on. You haven't drinked it up.

Me and Eric are going to go here. Look out the window. Be these dolls.

Me: Let's go on a lovely walk to the garden.

Halle: Not without us. Hold my hand. Open the doors, Rapunzel. Tiana and Belle are here. I want to come in. I've been waiting. Open the doors, Rapunzel. Now! Is everyone in?

These are fancy shoes. Woo. I like them. They play Ring around the Rosies. We need another doll (to play Ring Around the Rosies).

Sit down. I'm the teacher. [She gathers all the dolls and lines them up for her class.] We need all the princesses. Come on. Ok. Ok. Ok. Everyone clap your hands like this. Fly like me. Belle, come here. Everyone listen. We have a dance. Dance with me.

I can't find the beast. Where is Grandpa?

Old People in Church

Ali spoke in church today. It was senior day - for high school seniors to visit the ward for the first time. She gave her top ten reasons for coming to a YSA ward:

10: Church always starts 5-10 minutes late

9: Sacrament meeting is so quiet you can hear the cups drop - and an occasional cell phone.

8: Any activity you go to has lots of treats.

7: You don't have to sit by old people who snore in church, unless you are sitting by Brother Allan.

It was pretty cute. Since it is Steve's 63rd birthday today, it is particularly appropriate.

Come Back

Shandy spoke today as part of the RS presidency in the YSA ward. When she was called to the presidency, one of the major focuses was to rescue the less active. She said, "When I first came to school, I left the church for a year and a half. Visiting teachers and ward members never gave up on me. Finally, I came back because I knew they cared about me." Then she told the following story:

When I lived in Provo, I taught kindergarten. Derrek was a repeat kindergarten student. He didn't have many friends and didn't feel comfortable in class. One day he was trying to cut out the sun for a picture. He kept cutting off the rays, so I told him I would cut it out for him. I had him get a cup of water to clean up the paint brushes between colors. As he got back to the desk, he spilled the water all over. As I was cleaning it up, I had him get a cup of paint. Instead of a small cup of paint, he brought over the gallon container. He tripped and spilled yellow paint all over himself and the carpet. He was devastated and ran from the classroom. I didn't know what to do. My classroom is a mess and one of my students has left. I felt I should call the office, but something told me just to find Derrek. I thought, "No, I cannot leave the class unattended, I need to get help." Again, I felt I should just go find Derrek. I lined the kids up against the window and said, "Watch for me, I'll be coming back. I'm going to find Derrek. He is missing."

I left and started looking for him. It really wasn't so hard, as he left a trail of yellow paint. I found him sitting behind the dumpster crying. He thought I would be mad at him because he kept messing up. I told him that I was not mad and wanted him to come back. He stood up and gave me a big hug - so now both of us are covered in yellow paint. As we walked back to the classroom, the kids saw us and started screaming, "You found him. You found him." They ran from the classroom and surrounded Derrek. When they saw he was crying, they all started crying. It was so tender.

I kept hoping no one would drive by and wonder why we were all outside in tears covered with paint.

She continues, "That touched my heart so much. There are always those who are waiting for us to come back. There are those who will share in our joys and our sorrows."

It was a sweet message.

What a difference time makes

We had a birthday party at Miskins yesterday for the twins. After dinner, we were playing outside. Chelle and Halle were playing "hide the duck". Chelle was counting and Halle hid the duck in the middle of the front yard, in full view. I decided it needed to be hidden better, so I sat on it. Halle was so distressed and insisted that I move off of the duck. Chelle informed me that they always hid the duck in plain view. The next time it was Halle's turn to hide, she put the duck over in the neighbor's yard and sat on it, proud as can be. What a character.

What are the chances

There is a gal in our YSA ward who was formerly a member of our home ward. Jade would always come sit by me, until she got engaged to a member of the ward in November. For the past few months, neither she nor her fiance have been coming to church. Her parents are completely opposed to the marriage. The wedding was scheduled and cancelled twice, once after invitations were addressed. Her mother comes to RS (in the home ward) and cries through most lessons. It has been a very difficult time for both of them.

On Tuesday, Steve was supposed to go to the church to interview Ali for a temple recommend for baptisms for the dead. Since he shouldn't be in the church with a member of the opposite sex without someone else there, he asked me to tag along. Little did we know that the bishop would be there for an interview with Jade's boyfriend. Jade was with him, but the interview was not with her. What are the chances that Jade and I would both end up at the church with nothing to do but visit with each other? I somehow think that was supposed to happen.

Brooke

First thing in the morning Brooke crawls in our bed to read Wacky Wednesday. Minutes later Drew joins us. After a while, preparations for school begin.

Brooke:  Why are you still in your nightgown?

Me:  I'm drying my hair.

Brooke: Give me that.  I'll dry your hair. [She dries my hair for a while.  She leaves and comes back with toothpaste.]

Me:  Why do you have toothpaste in my bedroom?

Brooke: Grandpa's in the bathroom.  I had to sneak in and get it.  Grandpa's harrier that you are.

Me: Really? Where?

Brooke: Everywhere.  When you finish drying your hair, you need to do it. [I start reading my email on my ipad.  Brooke decides to help by clicking on the next email for me.  I've never read email so fast!]

Me: Brooke, you need to leave so I can get dressed.

Brooke: Just give me that (the ipad) and i won't even look up to see you.

Me: you can take it in the other room while I get dressed.  (She almost fell getting off the bed.). Oh, don't hurt yourself.

Brooke: I meant to do that.

[I could hear her in the hallway laughing and saying,   "I took a picture." Actually she took lots of them. Don't be alarmed. The deformed one is just "mirror" mode.]

Drew

Today was the day for the bubble machine. The adults were supposed to be weeding while Drew played, but I never seemed to make it weeding. Drew and I played. I took notes on our conversation. When he asked what I was writing, I told him I was doing my homework.

Drew: Grandma, come on. Pop them fast, not slow - like this. Look, look, look. How many bubbles are there? There are 2000 bubbles. Let's take a break. Oh, no. More bubbles in the grass. Off the grass, you bubbles. Two thousand bubbles are coming out. Pop them. [Running, dancing, flailing his arms, and jumping.]

Now I'm going to stop the bubbles. [Singing as he runs around.] More bubbles.

I'll do my pose [reminiscent of dancing with stars].

Me: Oh, my camera needs to be plugged in. It says low battery.

Drew: Go plug it in. Then you can come and just watch me. Grandma, come over here. I'm going to do the pose at the very beginning. Hurry, Grandma. Come watch.

Me: Do you think maybe I should help weed a bit?

Drew: No. Can we go somewhere else? Up here [in the jungle gym]. We have to go. Bubbles will be up here. This is the bubble castle. You will be the queen. I will be the princess. I will sleep up high. You will sleep below. Come on - in the bubble kingdom. Come on. Hurry. This is the bubble kingdom.

Moms and Dads watch movies before they go to sleep. You should watch a movie. When you weren't looking, the princess slides down the slide.

Grandma move. Look behind you. Actually, I sleep in the twisty slide. I won't go all the way down. Now, I'm awake. I already ate breakfast. When you were doing your homework, I slipped down. My shoes are too slippery. Ouch, that hurts.

Me: I'm watching a movie.

Drew: So its bedtime? I sleep in the twisty slide remember?

Drew: Let's play something else. Grandma, can we play hide and seek? I take all the turns of hiding and you take all the turns of counting. Go find me. Search everywhere.

Me: [after counting to ten, but not moving from my spot] Is he in the apple trees? Is he in the garden?

Drew: Are you up in the castle? You have to come down. You have to search everywhere, not just in the castle.

Drew: Here I am. I was hiding in there. Now I hide, you count. You'll get a turn after I hide.

Me: Found you.

Drew: My turn. You count.

Me: [after counting to ten] I bet he's under the slide.

Drew: I'm not.

Me: I bet he's in the castle.

Drew: I'm not. I'm here. Over here. Still my turn. You count again.

Me: [I keep counting past ten.]

Drew: Say "Ready or not, here I come."

Me: Ready or not, you will be caught.

Drew: No, ready or not, here I come.

Me: Ready or not, you will be caught.

Drew: Okay, Catch me.

Me: I can't find you.

Drew: I'm in the twisty slide.

Me: No, I don't think you are.

Drew: [Squeals] I am.

Drew: Put down your homework. Let's play tag. You are first. [We play tag until we are breathless.]

Drew: Let's play monkey. We have to climb. Put down your homework. You have to help me cross the monkey bars. [I do]

Me: Who is going to help me?

Drew: No one.

Such a darling boy. So full of life and energy.

Remembering Mom

This was a gift from my Mom to Steve. “Old teachers never die. They just lose their class.” The handmade gift hung in his office until he retired from USU in 2012. It represents her thoughtfulness and her gift giving talent. No one loved to give gifts more than Mom. Christmas was her favorite holiday. She never tired of it. She bought gifts months ahead and continued the shopping until the night before. In her old age when lung disease and lack of stamina made navigating the aisles challenging, she acquired unique gifts from QVC and catalogs which came to the home by the armful. Growing up in Birdseye Utah, she was accustomed to getting treasures via mail order and she used that eye for quality (and ever willing credit card) to select gifts from her recliner. She charged so much, she had her Visa number memorized.

When the neighborhood kids came to play, she would send them home with an unusual container, a new pencil, or a plate of cookies. It was hard for anyone to leave her home without having something placed in their arms. In the summer, it was garden produce. After Sunday dinner, it was a plate of leftovers. At Christmas it was her homemade chocolates. If she found a unique kitchen gadget, she would buy it for you. Often, she’d call to have us drop by after work to pick up a pie (or caramel corn or cinnamon rolls) she had made for us.

After she and Dad became empty nesters, their basement apartment became a gift to grandkids or married children while students at USU - a scholarship in kind. For years running, that apartment was home to some lucky relative who enjoyed her ready laugh, her enthusiasm for life, and her love of cooking for others.

Her generosity extended to faceless others as attested by the stack of donation requests she still gets in the mail, though she has been dead four years. Her selfless legacy continues as a gift to all of us.

Answers to prayers...

I remember when we were in Iowa, the whole stake presidency came from our little Ames Ward. The whole stake Relief Society came from our ward too. I guess it saved on travel as the wards were spread out - but we had a VERY strong ward as well. One day a member of the stake presidency was talking about getting answers to prayers. He said, "It's funny. When I want answers to prayers for personal things, I may have to wait for months or even years, but when I need answers for the stake, the answers come almost immediately."

I was reminded of his message this week. On Tuesday, we went to the YSA RS/Elders quorum activity - Texas Two-Step. I am so not a dancer, but it was fun anyway. As we were visiting afterwards, one of the members seemed particularly excited with the doughnuts and milk. He mentioned to Steve that he had been eating Ramen Noodles and Macaroni and Cheese for the past two weeks. Between needing extra money for gasoline and needing to pay deposits for a new apartment, he was completely out of money. Steve said, "We have got so much food. Come on over after the activity and shop in our basement." He did come over and took a large box of food storage items and another large box of frozen food. I can't help but think that even when we can't always get the answers we seek, we can still be an answer to someone else's prayer.

I had a similar experience on Thursday night. By the time Steve left for his YSA meeting at the bishop's house, I was in my jammies happily reading my book in bed. I had been reading for a few minutes when the thought hit me, "Your cell phone is in the other room and you have no landline. If someone wanted to get hold of you, they couldn't." I obediently went into the other room to grab my cell phone. Not five minutes later, Steve called. He couldn't find Tony's house. He had looked in the phone directory, but he picked the wrong Tony Smith and was led astray. Part of his cognitive issues manifest themselves with navigation. I talked him to his destination.

Anne with an E

Our stake put on the musical version of Anne of Green Gables. SO DARLING!!!! They did such an amazing job. Several from our YSA ward were in it, so that made it doubly fun.

Two roads...

Steve's retirement reception is tomorrow afternoon. We cleaned out his office this afternoon. [UGGG! The dust was the stuff nightmares are made of!] He still has a defense on Wednesday and grades to post, but it is definitely feeling like the end. In all rational aspects, the decision is a good one, but it still feels bitter sweet.

Twenty six years ago we made the decision to come to USU, rather than Arizona State or University of Nebraska at Lincoln. That single choice has affected so many other facets of our lives. It is interesting in that famous poem, it only says that "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." It doesn't really say that the difference was a good difference. Hopefully, we each have the ability to make a positive difference in all our choices.

I love this thought. Robert Fulghum – "The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass wherever you may be."

Faith

In church today, Mack Earley spoke and used an object lesson I really liked. He said on his mission, his companion would always hold a Book of Mormon in one hand and say to the investigators, "I want you to move the Book of Mormon to my other hand using just your faith." They would look at him like he was crazy, saying, "I can't do that." Then he would turn to his companion and say, "Elder Earley, would you move the Book of Mormon from one hand to the other using just your faith." Elder Earley would grab the book and lift it to the other hand. The message? Faith isn't just hoping; it is a principle of action. I loved it!

Retirement

After 26 years at USU, Steve is retiring. Steve taught students to become the best than was in them. He taught them

· to work hard. He often gets notes from alums saying that Compilers was the best class they ever took. When one student complained, "I am working so much on my compiler, my wife hasn't seen me in days", Steve quipped, "Yes, I know. She called to thank me."

· to think before you speak. He would challenge student assumptions by asking them to "bet a malt" on the answer. Steve almost always won.

· social etiquette. If a cell phone went off in class, the owner was expected to bring doughnuts for the class.

· humility. His cell phone was usually the first one to go off in a semester.

· stay alert. If anyone fell asleep in class, Steve led the group in making fun of them.

· relationships are the most important thing. Steve always had time for people, be it students, janitors, peers, or office staff.

· the joy of laughter. Steve loved a good joke – from his office filled with crunched up paper, to the screen saver than looked like Windows but wouldn't respond. While still in Colorado, he went to the department head to admit he had gotten one of his students pregnant. After several uncomfortable minutes, Steve said the student was his wife.

If I could do that...

For the last week, my back has been killing me. I have no idea what I did to it. I move like an old lady. Walking up stairs is a killer. Even rolling over in bed is a MAJOR accomplishment. After a week, the secretaries convinced me to see a doctor. Dr Stones said it was likely just a strain. If something was seriously wrong, it would still be wrong in a week, and we could detect it then. In the interim, he gave me muscle relaxor, over the counter pain medication (Aleve), and (if desperate) a prescription for Lortab. He also gave me back exercises.

The diagram below shows two of the three exercises I am to do. The first actually feels good, but if I could do the second one, I wouldn't have gone to see him in the first place. Absolutely impossible.

Gratitude

Have you ever noticed that you don't realize how good something is until it's gone?

A few weeks we played toilet paper dodge ball for FHE. We wanted to play regular dodge ball, but didn't have any balls that wouldn't maim. We taped the toilet paper so it wouldn't get everywhere. It was a fun time and the youth seemed to appreciate the novelty. The only bad thing was that we were left with a dozen double rolls of smashed toilet paper. I tried to give it to the young single adults, but they weren't tempted. I realize a normal person would have tossed them, but I am very much my father's daughter. I spent my growing up years hearing about the virtues of frugality. I couldn't risk the condemnation of just tossing "mostly" good toilet paper. Using what you have been given is a part of appreciation. When I throw something away, I think, "Isn't there somebody who could use this?" or "Why did you buy this if you didn't intent to use it? How spoiled are you." I considered donating it to Brandon and Kram for their camping trips with the Scouts, but figured they might consider me less stable than they do already.

After hoping the toilet paper would disappear on its own, I finally decided we should just use it in the privacy of our master bath where no one else has to see it. I have to tell you it has taught me something. I had never thought to appreciate how slick a normal roll of toilet paper is. You pull on it and the toilet paper rolls off with ease. In a mashed roll, that doesn't happen. Just thought I'd pass that on.

If anybody wants to experience gratitude for the little things, I have eleven more rolls to contribute.

A new research project

Facebook is a mystery to me. Every day, I think of interesting things to study about Facebook and its patrons. If I were starting over in my career, I think I would study the social dynamics of Facebook. Being as I work with data as a profession, the data gathering and association is so very interesting to me.

There are some things I love about Facebook. I can see cute videos and pictures of extended family, that I would never see otherwise. It allows me to have something to say to someone I haven't seen in ages. It allows me to have "conversations" I never could have otherwise. It encourages people to take more pictures so they can share them. It is easy to find people you've lost touch with and keep current with changing email addresses. I have learned a ton from facebook including what mop to buy and what movies to go see. I can get in touch with people who don't answer email, pick up their phone, or respond to texts, but DO respond to being messaged.

However, I have some probing research questions:

1. Are people who have more facebook friends more popular in real life?
2. Who knows 1061 people to be facebook friends with? Would they recognize them if they saw them?
3. Why does a 14 year old want to be friends with their 60 year old neighbor? Is it just to raise their friend count? Does it matter WHO your friends are or just that you have a lot?
4. What can you possibly say to 1061 friends that they will all be interested in?
5. When you post pictures of your scantily clad self going out on Friday night, are you envisioning that among your 1061 friends seeing your post is the bishopric member's wife who so wants to believe your Sunday self is the real you?
6. Why do people who are engaged tell each other how much they love the other by posting on each others walls? Do their 1060 other friends want to read that? Would that be considered newsworthy?
7. Are some people feeling like the biggest losers of all because of facebook, as everybody else seems to be doing fun things and exchanging chatty messages with all of their friends? Why do people carry out private conversations in public? Don't they worry about privacy issues at all? What kinds of information about people can be put together from the information in their posts, comments on their posts, and tagging from other people's posts?
8. Why do people use language that should be confined to X-rated movies in their posts? Don't they realize their friend's mother reads the posts?
9. Why do people post a thought without any context, so you have no idea what they are talking about? For example, one of my "Facebook friends" changed her status from "married" to "single". She lives in another state, and I haven't seen her in years. She used to be one of my Laurels. The only comment was that somebody "liked" it. I'm going, "So why doesn't someone like that change? Is it just that she is keeping profile information confidential? Is she divorced? I so don't get it." Now, a day later, when the other comments are logged, it is clear she is getting divorced. This is the third time I've found out someone was getting divorced because of their facebook status change.
It appears to be part of the culture to give a hint as to what is happening and hope others will ask for more information.

Other examples where I am left asking for 'the rest of the story':
It feels like a Monday.
I can get down the stairs. Life will return to normal.
I am in a relationship.
Things are changing

10. Does a person get a thrill out of having 17 people "like" their pictures or comment on their status?
11. What kinds of personality data can be pulled from Facebook use? Are people who are shy in real life totally different on Facebook? Is it considered a socially acceptable way to say, "Hey, I'm here. Notice me."?
12. Are there any secrets anymore? Is there any news? I can't tell you how many times someone has already heard something on Facebook that I thought was "news".
13. How many hours a day are people spending on Facebook? What could be accomplished if it were silenced?


I'm sure you're thinking I better keep my day job, as I seriously have no clue about Facebook. I guess you're right!

Social Welfare Functions

A few weeks ago there was an odd situation that I became aware of in the Ward. The Relief Society was asked to take in meals and provide transportation, while the ward helped with financial support to a non-member family in our neighborhood. Such areas of welfare are outside of my responsibility, but it just seemed odd to me. I found myself asking our Relief Society President, "Are you okay with this? I have my concerns, but I want to support you." She assured me that, while trying to make sure we weren't creating an expectation we couldn't satisfy, she was okay with the current level of support. I have been completely satisfied with her response and have not considered the matter further.

Just recently, something happened at work that brought this welfare example to mind.

I have been on a committee to make a decision. There is not possibility of satisfying everybody, but we were careful in our decisions, took input from the entire faculty, and even tried to explain to dissenters why the compromise was necessary. I took the responsibility of talking to person A, as I thought I had a good relationship with them. I was not able to persuade person A to the committee decision. Person A said, "Well, I thought we usually agreed on everything, but I guess this is a case where we'll have to agree to disagree." I was fine with that. The decision is a difficult one. It is impossible to make everybody happy. HOWEVER, then person A went to person B to air the complaints. Person B then went ballistic – saying all kinds of inflammatory things through email. The upshot is that person B went to the higher ups to proclaim that the decision was inappropriate – making our department look even more dysfunctional than it is already perceived.

How I wish they would have come to the committee and said, "Are you okay with this? I have my concerns, but I want to support you."

It makes me think that maybe I have gotten a little smarter over the years. Part of humility is to value the opinion of others. Getting the result you want absolutely isn't worth destroying relationships. While decisions come and decisions go, when you destroy relationships, you destroy your world.

We just finished talking about making joint decisions in my multi-agent systems course. The first part of the course is in making competitive decisions, but recently we are talking about cooperative decision-making. There are many methods for taking preferences of individual members and coming up with a group ranking. We term them social welfare functions. The methods need to protect against manipulation, but the idea is that the method genuinely tries to combine the wisdom of all participants. My take away is that we need to value the opinion of others enough that WE genuinely want the group decision to prevail.

Octopus

One of the sisters in our ward makes Octopuses from yarn. For our RS birthday party, she made a hundred of them in various colors to give to the sisters. The idea is that every day you are to touch each of the legs while you think of eight different blessings.

When I heard she was doing that (at her own suggestion), I had a hard time figuring out why someone would make one, let alone 100. (I know. I am so not-crafty.)

However, when I opened my purse this morning and saw that octopus, tears sprang to my eyes. I so needed to be reminded of my many blessings. I'm thinking that octopus may become one of my prized possessions.

Black Day

Trisha and the kids came for the weekend while Brandon had a basketball weekend in Arizona. On Saturday morning, Halle came into my room and said, "You are wearing blue. It is black day."

I invited her to find something appropriate in my closet. She dug through my closet and returned with several options.

I miss the days when my kids would coach me on what to wear, "Mom, you aren't leaving the house in THAT are you?" Without proper coaching, I tend to leave the house on black day wearing blue!

So cute

Before I was called to the Relief Society Presidency nearly four years ago, I had been teaching CTR 5's. It was a change of class for me as of the first of the year, so I had only had the calling for three months. I LOVED that calling and those kids, but that was four years ago. I hardly expect a five year old to remember me for four years.

Last night, I got a facebook friend request from one of my former CTR 5's. How cute is that?

Getting Old

I'm reading the book The Distant Hours. I haven't decided if I like it or not, but I found one section pretty funny. The main characters agreed that "there was nothing so unseemly as an old person who refused to acknowledge his or her limitations, and they'd made a pact never to let it happen to them. When they were old, they swore they would jolly well act the part." They decided to make a list of habits of old people so they would know when they had become old. Here is their list:
1. professing a strong and repeated preference for England when Queen Victoria was on the throne
2. mentioning one's health in any company other than that which included a medical professional
3. failure to put on one's undergarments whilst standing.

I had to laugh as we had just been out with older friends where topics they brought up included
1. medical issues
2. staying in pajamas all day, because it was easier
3. playing solitaire repeatedly all day long.
4. the follies of the younger generation

As I wrap my mind around Steve retiring next month, getting old is definitely on my mind.

Perspective

The last week has been consumed with department head interviews. I've been on DH search committees before, but his assignment has been so demanding. We had two candidates come this week. For each candidate, we met with them as a committee for breakfast, interviewed them as a committee for an hour, took them to dinner, attended their seminar, and took them on a tour of the valley. That is TOO MUCH TIME! I can't figure out why we need to spend so much time with them. I suggested alternatives, but I guess that is what they do in Engineering. The head of the search committee is spending even more time. In addition to what the rest of us are doing, he is also walking him between meetings. He brings his laptop and waits outside of one meeting to take him to the next.

The thing that I find most interesting is the various reactions to the candidates. One talks too much. Another uses too many filler words. One takes too long to form an answer. Someone takes offense at a comment that is made. Someone hates a candidate one day, but likes them the next. Someone hears something in a seminar that I totally took a different way. I guess it is all in your perspective. I'm beginning to think that it is impossible to please this many people. When you are hiring a peer, it is difficult, but hiring your boss is proving to be an overly constrained problem.

Faith

In our YSA ward, there are six children of one family. The family has 13 children, 6 of which are between 19 and 26. They are very bright and extremely musically talented. The youngest Fronk in our ward just got his mission call to Taiwan. He is a tall, good looking, amazing fellow. He has a singing voice that makes the congregation stop breathing. His testimony so touched me.

I wish I could have recorded his testimony, but I'll relay what I remember:

In his words:
As I got this mission call, it occurs to me that I have been preparing for this moment for my whole life. Everything I have done has led up to this moment. Satan has been preparing for this moment too. He so does not want me to go on a mission. Never have I had so much going for me, and never have I felt so much that I have nothing going for me. The thoughts of me learning Mandarin Chinese petrify me. My doubts are huge, but I do not doubt my Heavenly Father. I can count on one hand the times I have slept away from home, without at least one member of my family close. I am my Mother's child. I still hold my Father's hand. I am a home boy. I have faith in my Heavenly Father. I can do this. I will do this.

Nobody is perfect

Kayla's (Greg's girlfriend) dog has been staying with us the past few weeks. She is such a good dog. She comes when you call. Greets you with a kiss. Goes right in her kennel when told do. Never has an accident. I was thinking she is just about the perfect dog until tonight.

I cooked some bacon for dinner and was letting it cool on the counter, when I heard the sound of dog hitting counter. She slurped up half a pound of bacon faster than you can say, ABBBBBYYYY. I guess nobody (or dog) is perfect.

Picture Telephone

Greg told me about a game called "Picture Telephone" which we tried last week at FHE. The first person starts with a sentence. The next person sees the sentence, and draws a picture of the sentence on the next page. Each person in the group alternates between sentence and picture, but only seeing the very last contribution. Here is mine. I started with "Even with the liahona, I get lost in your eyes." [I had been reading Mormon pickup lines and thought it was funny.]

Here is what the rest of the group contributed.

Alda at almost 95

Grandma will be 95 next month. We got her to pose for a few pictures. I told her we wanted to put an article in the newspaper. She said it wasn't necessary, but she let us take the pictures - so I'm guessing she'll be fine with something in the paper. These are the best of two dozen shots.

I'm thinking her hearing is worse than we thought, as this is what she does when we say, "Say cheese". :-)

Bad Dilbert Cartoon

Since we canceled our home phone, I have been the victim of Century Link. My bill is coming electronically so I don't see it. I can see the amount as it is debited from my checking account, but I can't see the bill.

I try to log on, but it doesn't recognize my password.
I ask to reset it.
It asks me for my account number, which is no longer my home phone (as I don't have a home phone). I don't know the account number. They tell me it is on my bill. I don't have my bill.
I call the "contact us" number and they give me the account number - a made up phone number, but they can't reset my password.
They have me log on again, this time with their made up phone number for me.
When I ask to reset my password, they tell me I need a security code WHICH IS ON MY BILL.
I tell them, I don't have my bill. That is why I called.
There is supposed to be a way of sending my password reset info via my email address, but that is broken and the technician can't make it work either.

He says he could call me with my security code information, but I don't have a phone number (that he has recorded). I told him my phone number. He records it, but says he can't use it to call me - because I just called him and told him to change it, so the request could be fraudulent. He could mail it via surface mail, but that would take several days.

His solution, call back and talk to someone else who will have no idea I just changed the contact phone number three second ago. Are you kidding me? So he thinks my request is fraudulent, so he tells me how to circumvent the checks?

I tried to click on the "online chat" link - but the whole webpage went dark - a decidedly bad situation.

So if you can't get your bill, use your bill to find out how to get your bill.

I think the system was designed by a pathetic computer science student who never could program recursively.

Some days are like that...

My programming languages class is at the other end of campus. I don't think I'm sauntering, but people seem to pass me like I'm standing still. Today, I had left my office late as I had students I was talking with until well past the time to leave. I needed to get to class on time. It has been snowing all day, so the walks were icy. My shoes are heavy duty, but have no traction. As I made my way, I tried to pick less icy spots so I could make better time. Still people kept passing me. I tried to match my pace to those who were passing me, but at best, I could keep up. Of the hundred of students on their way to class, I passed no one.

Up ahead, I noticed a woman who didn't seem to be getting any further ahead of me. Since she didn't know we were racing, I thought I had a chance. I noticed that she was in dress boots, but they were low enough that I figured it was still a "fair" competition. The sidewalks got less icy, and I passed her. Ahhh, finally someone I could pass. However, when I got to the engineering building, instead of staying on the sidewalk, she took a diagonal path through the bike racks, sneaking up behind me, and entered the building before me.

Some days are like that.

And in the name of the Lullaby League, We wish to welcome you to Munchkinland.

As visiting teaching percentages go, our ward is near the city of Enoch. It is amazing! Last month, for instance, we had 123 visits made, 3 sisters missed, and 2 sisters for whom the report was “not available”. People are incredibly responsible and giving. I continue to be impressed by the caring I see. However, we are not quite ready to be translated. As a presidency, we inherited a few odd situations. One sister only accepts a specific sister as her visiting teacher. The assignment can never be changed. It has been that way for years. The previous president tried to fix the situation, but quickly learned that the choice was only one of maintaining the status quo or having no visiting teachers accepted at all.

There are other issues. One or two will only visit their best friends. There are those who don’t want to visit, but will drop off treats/gifts. There are those who don’t want a visit, but love treats/gifts. There are a few that don’t want a partner. There are those that have been known to count honking as a visit. Others call to say they can’t go with a specific person or don’t want the visiting teachers assigned to them.

You’ve got to wonder if we bring the problems on ourselves by being so accommodating. I think if everyone understood the cushy routes that count as visiting teaching, there would be even more requests for “treat dropping visiting teachers” or “going to lunch with friends routes”. Yet, you can only take people as you find them. There are still plenty of opportunities for growth. Maybe the growth is mine. I must admit, my first reaction was, “You have GOT to be kidding me. This is ‘love one another’? This is your idea of sacrifice? With all the trials many of us are facing, you have the time to stress about your visiting teaching route?” It was really distressing at first. I just couldn’t get my mind around it. Now, little surprises me. I find the whole thing intensely interesting. Instead of being judgmental, I find myself curious – like I’ve entered Munchkinland and am studying the route to the Emerald City.

I think visiting teaching is one of those requirements that is much deeper than it appears at first glance. We think we are visiting teaching so that everyone has someone to care for them. We have an organization which facilitates bringing in meals, caring for the sick, and looking after the welfare needs of the members. It is far from efficient. A person is both a visiting teacher and a visiting teachee. One completed visit takes the time of three people, not counting those who call to check up and those who tally the report. When you use the visiting teachers as a calling tree, it is cyclic. Some (in their own way) seek to counsel the Lord in this matter. I rather think the Lord is trying to teach us: This is NOT about efficiency. This is not about what is convenient for you. This is not about your schedule, your friends, or your comfort. This is about loving EVERYONE. Love is not convenient. Love doesn’t expect gratitude. Anybody can love the Dorothy’s of the world. How hard is that? The challenge comes in serving the winged monkeys.

The people and the food

While the sharing of new ideas and the invigoration that comes from being around the movers and the shakers is exciting,the best thing about any conference is the people you meet. Lunch (provided by the conference) is always a fun time to meet people and learn about their lives and challenges. Now that the conference is over, it is more difficult to strike up a conversation.

Everything at the hotel is so EXPENSIVE that we've taken to eating dinner at the bar (actually just chairs in the hotel lobby) where you can get a sandwich and chips for $21 - compared to the dinner prices of $45 per plate upstairs. Last night at dinner, we met a fellow who was talking to the chef about brands of food. Evidently he is a food producer (fruit, grains) throughout Europe who is taking "organic" to a whole new level. As he explained, "organic" can mean most anything. He was into producing food with absolutely no pesticides and giving reassurances that the food was as pure as he claimed. He talked about food producers having markedly different costs, but dealing with the expectation that all food should be reasonably priced. He said, "The reason California can produce food cheaper than the East coast is Mexican workers. If you tell a New Yorker you will pay $8 an hour, long days of work, and no benefits, they refuse to work. If you tell a Hispanic the same thing, they ask, 'When do I start?' - especially if you will provide a home for them and allow family to come with them. The same is true in Europe. Our cheap labor force is Eastern European. You don't get cheap food without taking unfair advantage of people with few options." He was an interesting fellow.

Breakfast (provided by the hotel) is quite the affair. This morning I had two kinds of cold meat (salami and Proscuitto) and six kinds of cheese. The fresh fruit is amazing - melons, mango, pineapple, red grapes, kiwi, oranges. Little pastries and breads are delicious. Steve sticks with traditional fare such as eggs, bacon, and pancakes - but I (who am not a breakfast fan) am enjoying the amazing variety.

Cerro Da Vila Vilamoura

We took the bus into Vilamoura, had lunch at a lovely bistro at the Maria, and enjoyed the warm weather. We asked the waitress why people came to Vilamoura. She said, "Golf and warm weather. That is all you can expect in Portugal.". We had seen a fair number of tourists - older couples walking hand in hand. Some were younger. Most seemed to have no clearer destination than we did. We asked the waitress about the museum (archaeological site) up the street. She said there wasn't much there. Of course, I'm not sure any of the locals have ever been there as the staff at the hotel (after some consultation) had indicated its location on the map without even knowing it was already on the map some distance away from their designated location.

Some of the signs were even in English, giving us a chance to practice Portuguese to English translation. Many did not have an English translation (and the woman who took our entrance fee disappeared after we entered) so we had fun trying to decide what things were. Pottery, lamps, cooking utensils, hair pins. In a basket next to the display of cooking utensils was the bones of an ancient Portuguese resident with the explanation that the dead were sent to the other side with containers for cooking.


The entrance to the complex had mosaic flooring.

All bedrooms opened up to a central patio. Below you see a soaking area.

In some way, this area was used to warm the water that was channeled to the bath areas.

This is an artists rendition of the whole area. There are large public bath areas, but they can find no evidence of a large enough population living here to warrant such an edifice.

This is the base of a winepress for crushing olives or grapes for oil/wine. We also saw underground pits for storing salted fish and large containers for storing grains underground.

The area was inhabited by Roman settlers in the first century. The elaborate effort to bring water into the homes reminds me of aqueducts we saw in Rome.





These are waterways to take warmed water into the spas, bath areas, and to warm the bedroom floors. Ingenious!

After our self-tour of the archaeological site, we walked the 3 miles to the hotel. We asked about a tour to Lisbon, but it is 7 hours on a bus for five hours in Lisbon (some of which time is spent shopping), so I think we'll just soak up the rays here for another day.

Prawn's with their heads on

We are in Portugal for a conference that begins tomorrow. This place is REALLY off the beaten track. The bus to the village center runs about twice a day. They claim it will be more often once the hundreds of conference participants get here, but they didn't seem to have any details. I asked if there were any buses we could take if we were willing to pay, but there weren't. I'm beginning to think the conference organizers misunderstood travel in the area. We were TOLD the two bus trip from the airport was about 6 Euro. Since we arrived in the middle of the night (literally) we were NOT up for two bus rides, but I don't think the second bus to the hotel really exists (other than the twice a day route). Glad we took the taxi.

We walked the 5k to the village center, and planned to take the courtesy bus back. We saw a guy carrying his poster to the conference walking along the same strip going towards the hotel. Guess he didn't find the second bus either. The whether is about 50 degrees and gorgeous. The marina was beautiful, with a handful of people walking along the beach. It is Sunday, so maybe it livens up during the week.

The restaurant was completely empty except for us. I ordered prawns with the heads on. And yes, I actually knew they had their heads on when I ordered them. I told the waitress I wouldn't be eating the heads. She said, "People don't eat the heads, just such on them." I didn't such on them either. They were actually quite wonderful.

We did find the courtesy bus (actually a van) to come home. It was filled to overflowing with people trying to get back to our hotel.

The area is a major disappointment after the venue in Rome last year, where there was tons to do every day. Here I'm thinking prawns with their heads on may be the highlight - unless we take a four hour train ride to Lisbon.

Thoughts from church...

Ross Brown taught Sunday School today. He is a historian by profession and very interesting. We were talking in first Nephi about the liahona. He talked about the two spindles and asked, "If the liahona worked on faithfulness, if it stopped working, how could you tell? Don't pointers always point?" I hadn't thought of that before. He said that the role of the second spindle was to notify when the liahona was working. If the two pointers coincided, it was working. Otherwise, it wasn't.

He also used the following two quotes that rang true:

Richard G Scott said, “Just when all seems to be going right, challenges often come in multiple doses applied simultaneously. When those trials are not consequences of your disobedience, they are evidence that the Lord feels you are prepared to grow more. He therefore gives you experiences that stimulate growth, understanding, and compassion which polish you for your ever-lasting benefit.”

Boyd K Packer: "I say again that youth today are being raised in enemy territory with a declining standard of morality... It is not expected that you go through life without making mistakes, but you will not make a major mistake without first being warned by the promptings of the Spirit. "

Great food for thought.

Cannot possibly

We leave for Portugal within the week. I need to present a paper and Steve is coming with me.

As I was preparing for my talk, I reread the paper that had been accepted and had a few things I just didn't agree with. I went back to earlier versions of the paper to see if I used to understand, but had lost it. No, I had clearly told the student what had to be said. He is a PhD student and he is first author, so I trusted him to fix it. He is Nigerian, but has excellent writing skills.

In two places, he said that you "cannot possibly" find a better solution. The truth is that the solution is approximate, likely a good one, but is not guaranteed to be the best. Come to find out he thought the "possibly" in "cannot possibly" weakened it. ARGGGG!! Wish me luck explaining "cannot possibly". Hopefully, no one will have read the paper before my talk.

In every negative, there is a positive

In reading friends' (Jay and Judy) missionary blog, I learned they had been called to be substitute Sunday School teachers - in case someone doesn't show up. I've heard of wards like that - where you never know if the teachers will show up.

I am 1st counselor in the Relief Society of my home ward - over lessons. Our ward is so amazing. Not only do teachers always show up, they have prepared for months in advance. We have them teaching every other month (to give more people callings) - so they literally prepare for the two months. I have become so complacent in my calling that I don't even always read the lesson ahead of time. Today, as I was sitting in Steve's sacrament meeting, I wondered what the lesson was. I have access to the internet there and had my IPAD, so I pulled up an email I had send about the lesson schedule. I pulled up the three conference talks, and during the sacrament, I started reading the talks.

By the time I can sat through two sacrament meetings, and two versions of the same Sunday School lesson, I had read all the talks. It is so rare for me to do that. I felt impressed I should.

When it was time for RS, I saw the RS teacher heading off in the other direction, but I assumed she was going to the library. She wasn't. She never returned. She evidently was confused by five Sundays in the month. Yours truly got to wing the lesson. While it is NOT the way I like to give a lesson, it turned out fine. My favorite teaching trick with adults is to give them a question and have them "visit with their neighbors". After a few minutes of visiting, they share their insights. For a ward like ours, it works amazingly well.

The lesson was on "Dare to stand alone", "Stand in Holy Places" and "Teaching after the manner of the spirit". A few thoughts that hit me.

Like other Mormons, I have been following the presidential primaries. Some of the comments like "I would rather vote for a serial adulterer than a Mormon" are quite hurtful. This morning on NPR I heard a glimpse of a piece of Mitt's Mexican's relatives (from polygamous ancestry). I have almost thought, "If he loses quickly, at least we won't have to endure such negative press." No matter what your political stand, I think it is time for all of us to dare to stand alone and stand up for what we believe.

Through the YSA ward, I am facebook friends with a number of the young people. In many cases, their private life aligns perfectly with their church image, but in a few notable cases, what I see on their photo album or through their correspondence is not what they profess to be.

Last night I was listening to a BYUI talk from 2009. Originally it was "unreleased" so I hadn't heard it. Going back through the archives, I noticed it had been released. It was a very interesting talk by Ahmad Corbitt. He is a lawyer and (more recently) over public and international affairs for the church in NY. He said, "Any negative has a corresponding opportunity or something that engenders happiness. If you have a mindset to see it and if you are prayerful, the Lord will make it known." He is the stake president in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. One of their buildings had been vandalized. Someone had broken in, spread graffiti everywhere, defaced pictures of Christ, and most disturbingly fired nine rounds into the area behind the choir loft. The police and FBI became involved. Remarkably, there was no media coverage. They did not want any media around it, as who wants to join a church that just got vandalized?

Members were uncomfortable. Knowing that this principle is true, they were prayerful and looked for a positive. They held a re-dedication service and invited the whole community. Community members wanted to reconfirm their desire for religious freedom and respect. It became an amazing interfaith meeting. The members fashioned displays of the various auxiliaries. The community got to feel and experience who we, as members, really are.

In every negative, there is a positive.

Loved these thoughts

Sometimes God calms the storm… Sometimes He lets the storm rage and calms His Child

Sorrow looks back, worry looks around, FAITH looks up.

The twins

I had Chelle send me pictures of the girls. I think I may need an identify check. I think Savannah is in the blue stripped, but every other picture is of Eve. Am I right?

They look so healthy!!!

Christmas at the Tucker's

Here are some pictures from Christmas Eve. Santa came early to SLC so when we visited, we got to see all the kids' toys.

Santa's elves had been busy. The playhouse and the Barbie house were much loved.

When we got there, Trisha and Brandon were exhausted, but Zach and Grandpa were glued at the hip. They went from one activity to the next while the rest of us napped.

Halle showed her true "colors" as she and I watched Beauty and the Beast. I got the running commentary, "Belle is in a blue dress." "Belle is in a green dress." "Belle is in a yellow dress." Through the whole movie, Halle never missed a single costume change. So cute.

My picture taking didn't extend to the other family members we saw over the holidays. Darn it!