Don't Judge My Judging

I thought I had overcome, shall I say a pet peeve.  I had purged this negative from my very being, until I heard myself recount at our Oregon family get together, the latest scar on my pet peeviness.  (I just made up that word and I think it should be one).  While discussing service in the Church, a switch turned on my memory bank and connected to my mouth.  I shared how Walt signed us up for recent apricot picking at our church orchard.  We dutifully arose at 5:30 so we could be there to pick early before the sun got hot.  We were told to pick the fruit that was ripening,  (duh) what color, (another duh), and most importantly to not pick unripe fruit.  (triple duh)  Leave it to ripen for another days picking.  Walt and I carefully picked many trees, and when we went to dump our buckets,   I heard something like this.  "There ya go Samuel, Sariah, Nephi, Rachel, and Moroni (all churchy names) go pick those.  You can reach those."  Yep, there was Sister Mommy pointing her little saints at the trees we had just picked.  She didn't say pick only the ones that HAVE AN APRICOT COLOR and LEAVE THE GREEN ONES.  Of course, the next sounds we hear are huge green apricots thudding into buckets.  Apricots that will be put into discard bins when they go to the cannery.  As I went back to the trees, I gently said "those trees have already been picked, there are some further up the row that have ripe fruit."  I may as well have been talking to the apricot tree.  Finally, we went to trees along the outside of the orchard where I did not have to watch the desecration of precious fruit.  It was getting close to time for us to leave, so Walt and I went to dump our perfect harvest, when I saw two women who had just arrived.  The older women had just applied lipstick and looked like she had her hair done for a special occasion.  It seemed as if the other one was wondering if she should have worn gloves to cover her polished phony nails.  Then they started to pick a tree that by this time did not even have a hint of color.  Mustering my smiley face and using my  softest inside voice, I said, "oh, those trees have already been picked.  There are some further up the row that have ripening  fruit on them."  Sister Plastic turned and said,  "There are apricots all over this tree to be picked." Next sound...thud, thud, thud.  When I got to the truck and slammed the door, I told Walt he was NEVER to sign me up to pick in the orchards again.  I will thin, I will weed, I will wind row after pruning, but a farm girl like me can't watch the murder of innocent fruit.  He laughed, but I meant it.  As I recaped this experience to my brothers and sisters in Oregon,  and seeing the smiles on their faces, I realized that those saintly pickers I judged, were going much further on the celestial trail than I was.  They filled their assignments, plain and simple.  They were asked, they showed up, and they will be blessed.  Just because they were agriculturally challenged, did not give me the right to judge.  And to those I share my personal pet peeve, don't judge my judging.

Oregon, a Cold Sore, and 5 lbs.

 I returned from our trip to Oregon with a cold sore and 5 lbs. ( I am not posting pics right now due to a new computer program, but if I wait to post pictures I will forget to post about the trip.  I know that a blog about a trip without pictures is boring.)  Now back to my cold sore and 5 lbs,  I can't blame it all on the trip, I started working on both a few days before we left.   Walt and I took the shuttle to Las Vegas, flew into Portland, and met my brother Tim, wife Ginny, and my sister Robin at the airport.  We then rented a car and drove to brother Steve, and wife Sharon Arnold's home near Newport Oregon.  The trip to their home takes about 3 hours, but it went quickly as we five visited and enjoyed the country as we traveled.  They moved about a year ago from another beach house they owned in Waldport, a small town about 30 miles away.  This different beach house is lovely, but is a little more challenging to get to the beach.   The trail is really down and then really up.  I did okay, but had to take a little breather about half way.  Walt, born with mountain-goat in his blood line, beat us both ways and was waiting while looking at his watch.  I never gave him the pleasure of asking him, "how much slower was I than you?"  Steve and Sharon's home has three floors, so Steve had an elevator put in, which was very helpful for Robin.  I took the stairs most of the time, but forgot the rules of the elevator twice...I forgot to close the sliding door making it not available for the next person on a different floor.  I heard a yell or two from my now elevator-user- brother from another floor.  "SOMEONE FORGOT TO CLOSE THE DOOR.  PENNY?"  I needed the exercise anyway.  We arrived on a Friday and left on a Tuesday.  Sharon was so accommodating, making two perfect meals that could have been on the menu of any Red Lobster, only her meals were better.  It was so sweet to spend time with Ginny, Sharon, and Robin.  I have seen Robin frequently, but Sharon was not been able to attend our Jessi's wedding, so I had not seen her for a long time.  Tim and Ginny have been able to come to our family events, and we have also been able to see them periodically in Boise.  The visiting was sweet.  Saturday we helped celebrate Tim's birthday.  Sunday we attended church.  I loved attending RS with my sisters.  Sharon is in the presidency and conducted.  She shared a sweet testimony of the importance of family.  We had days of  laughter, shared stories, and complete enjoyment of each other.  Monday the weather accommodated Steve, Tim, and Walt a  fishing trip for tuna 50 miles out in the ocean.  They caught 12 huge tuna and had a great time.  Tim still provided deck-hand service even though he started vomiting when his sea-sickness pill time limit was up.  Steve declared Walt an excellent deck hand.  Meanwhile, Robin, Ginny, and I had a great time in Old Newport while Sharon finished an infant seat cover for an expectant grandchild.   Later we all went to a Chinese restaurant, laughed and talked some more.  Sadly, we left early Tuesday a.m. for Portland to catch our flights.   We do not get to see each other often, but when we do it is like manna from heaven.  In my mind's eye, I see  passing into the next world, into paradise I hope, to be a little like spending time with my beloved brothers and sisters for a few days on the coast.