Blogging Prayer Answered

I had not blogged for about a year, but when I tried in 2013, I could not get in.  I tried everything. Finally I googled "problems with Blogspot".  Many comments popped up with the same problem I was having.  Many were mad and ready to "sue".  Several bloggers said they had lost everything...one guy had a blog for over six years. Many times I tried to sign in but I could only access my old public posts. Several reviews indicated that Blogspot had been bought by Google and with it came a big can of worms they were working through.  I guess I was one of the worms.  I was heartsick because I had used my blog as a journal for most things and I was afraid it was all lost.  Today I tried again, it let me reset everything, AND IT WAS ALL THERE.  I learned a valuable lesson from this.  Do not trust cyberspace.  Print hard copy and save electronically somewhere else. Now I will attempt blog catch up copy and pasting journal entries from else where.

Thanksgiving Literally

Our son Brandon was in a head-on collision the Friday before Thanksgiving at about 4:30 p.m.  The man who hit him was traveling north on the freeway when he crossed the median and hit Brandon's truck that was traveling south.  Brandon never saw him coming.  There were no brake marks at the scene.  It was estimated the impact was a minimum of 140 mph.  The man from Illinois died, but because Brandon was in a heavier 3/4 ton truck, he was injured, but lived.  He was cut deeply on left side of forward down into his eye bridge, his leg took much of the impact, his nose was broken.  There are future surgeries ahead, but he is ALIVE and we are full of thanksgiving. The Eye, Ear, & Nose doc said it was a miracle he did not lose his eye or sever the nerve that goes from ears to sinus.  The first responders said it was the worst wreck they have responded to and had some one actually live.  Brandon's good friend, who is an EMT, was one of the first on scene and helped him, but did not recognize that it was him.  He is recouping at our home and each day he improves remarkably.

This was our "here" year, the Thanksgiving when all come to our house instead of going to their in-laws.  I thought I was coping amazingly well with the trauma of the accident until the day before Thanksgiving told the real story.  I was preparing the batter for the pumpkin pies.  I tasted it before pouring in the shells.  Yuck, was something ever missing.  I added more spice, no diff, but just figured my taster was off.  I was just getting ready to fill the shells, when I realized I had not put in the pumpkin!  We brine our turkey now...so moist and yummy.  We had been brining it for about 12 hours when I realized I had doubled the salt ratio!  At the dinner, I kept repeating "don't salt the turkey...remember don't salt the turkey".  After dinner, I felt two hands on the back of my shoulders.  It was Walt.  He turned me around and told me to go the bedroom to rest, he was going to help clean the kitchen.  We had several Thanksgiving firsts; almost pumpkinless pumpkin pie, double brine turkey, Walt helping clean up after Thanksgiving, and Brandon  with a swollen face, bandaged elbow, hand, and leg.  But we were all full of thanks for sparing our son and bringing us all together to count our blessings.

Repentant Blogger
I was feeling really bad about ignoring my blog since LAST summer. As a matter of fact, my last post was about Granny Boy Camp, and I just finished another one a few weeks ago.   I am using this blog for my journal (mostly, I keep more sacred experiences in another journal), so I know posting is important.  I would have loved to have a blog when I was raising my family...to have special photos, journal entries, and then publish it...what a dream.  Well, my family is raised and I still have a busy life that can be documented.  There is no excuse.  I checked out most everyone's blog I follow closely and I realized many are not posting often either.  Has Facebook changed the importance of blogging?  I hope not.

A few months ago, Walt was released from Bishopric after five years.  I realized that with his release has come a freedom. First of June managed four days at our mountain get away.  Last of June we went on  nine day anniversary get away to Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana.   May we had a trip to Las Vegas to tour dam at Lake Mead, April off to to Moab Utah for four days where I had a victim advocate conference for one day, and we played the other days.  Walt and I went to my nephew Brent Arnold's wedding in the Twin Falls Temple last week. The Boise temple is closed. We then toured Shoshone Falls and Thousand Springs area, with my brother Steve, as we worked our way back to Boise for a later reception. We brought Ginny, Tim’s wife, back with us.  Some trips have been interspersed with a visit to Cody and Jessi's house in Spanish Fork near Provo.   Walt and I have also been on mountain five weekends in a row.  I ran into a neighbor from our ward today at Costco. She asked if I had been gone all summer.  The trips  have been nice, but I am staying home this weekend.  Our mountain place will be taken over by my Cluff Clan hunters. I usually cook,  just put ear plugs in, then go to my bedroom to read, but I don’t even want to do that much. I am staying home and unpacking my suitcase that has been on the floor of our closet all summer. I still work part-time as a Victim Advocate for the police department, but have been able to work my time easily around this looser schedule.  Walt and I have always enjoyed traveling together.  He has to be in control of the steering wheel as I am content to relax and look out the window.  We have listened to some audio books and great music on Pandora radio.  I just tether my phone to the speakers on our car....no advertisements...just coasting along on the road to somewhere.  Sweet sweet freedom we have never experienced until these last few months. I want to post pictures, but I am going to post this without for now.  I made a goal of writing a post by 5:30 and I want to accomplish at least one goal today.

 

Granny Grandson Camp

Back row Justin Cannon, Jade Cluff, Granny, Logan Cluff
Front row Jaxon Bradshaw, Morgan Irvine, Bradley Irvine

Yes, you read it right.  I take my boys camping every summer.  My younger ones, Colby (5), Cove (1 ½), and baby River were not invited for safety reasons and Granny's sanity.   This year was a lot of fun because the weather was perfect.  Last year we battled rain almost the whole weekend.  The tradition has always been campfire stories by Granny and then lots of war with air guns.  We have made a four- wheel trail where the wars are played out.  This year, however, Jade and Justin the oldest two, decided they were too old and cool for such juvenile games.  After holding out for an hour or two, soon they had to get in on it.  Then it was the two oldest against everyone else.  Everyone had a fun time including me.  I bedded them down in the front of our RV.  We have two good mattresses and lots of foam pads.  I had them draw straws on who got to choose first.  We did smores, but they were ready to hit the bedrolls right after, so my campfire stories were shared while they were in bed and ready for lights out.  I absolutely love my grand boys…I guess I better start saying young men.  All who attended have the priesthood except Jaxon who is ten.  Jade and Justin are DRIVING!


I am including pictures from an Arizona hunt Grandpa took some of the older boys on.  Grandpa has a soft spot for hunting requests from his grand boys.  I told him I think to his grandsons the word Grandpa means “Man with checkbook and drivers license.”

An event at Sportsman Warehouse had some drawings for prizes.  Justin asked his grandpa if he put gramp’s name in and he won, if Justin could have the binoculars.

Grandpa had a work project going on during Granny Camp.  Trimming  trees.

Walt got a call that he won and true to his gramp’s word, Justin got the binoculars.  Sportsman took a picture of Walt with them and it turned out to be a great picture.  The boys were trying to figure out what was so great about it and then it dawned on them.  He did not have a plaid cowboy shirt on…he had a stripped tee!  Wow, and to think that fact was documented with a picture!

Granny Grand-Girl Camp & Paying it Forward Experience

Josie Cluff, Lesley Cannon, Taiha Bradshaw, Granny,Victoria Cannon

This summer I held Granny-grand-girl camp.  My oldest granddaughters, Tori, Lesley, Taiha, and Josie,  usually opt for a sleepover at my house instead of the “camp” experience.  This year I did not give them a choice.  I told them we were going to the mountain, sleeping at our camp for two nights, and then spending a day in Panquitch, a little mountain town just 25 miles from our camp. The first night we played a rumor game around the campfire.  After smores, I led them out to the clearing where I had set up a big tarp.  I asked them to take a pillow and blanket, and after putting heads together in the middle, we looked at the stars while I shared some spiritual experiences of my youth.  After drawing straws for the bed spots, most of them giggled for hours after I put in my earplugs. The next day it was up for breakfast and off to Panquich’s Quilt Walk Days. I asked them to save their money for some girly purchase.  They worked hard and each came prepared with a little cash.  I asked them to just browse through the shops for a few hours and then we would return to stores for final purchase, as I did not want to carry bags around all afternoon.  The first store we went to was where Taiha realized she had lost her $20 out of her pants pocket.  She was so sad because she had worked hard for her money.  When we returned later in the day, the storeowner asked where the girl was that had lost her money.  My girls explained that she had not found it so she had not returned to buy earrings like they had.  After the girls had made their selection of pretty silver earrings with different colored stones, the owner told them to go choose a pair that they thought Taiha would like.  She put them in a bag to give to her asking for the following story to be told.  When the storeowner was a little girl, she had worked hard to earn $5 for a fair and carnival coming to her town.  Excitedly she arrived only to find on her first purchase that she had lost the $5 out of her pocket.  She burst into tears and a man asked why she was crying.  She explained she had worked hard for her money and had lost it.  He gave her $5 telling her, “One day you will meet a girl who will have lost her money and that is when you can pay me back”. The other day I saw the silver feather green stone earrings dangling from Taiha’s ear.  I was quickly reminded of the sweet experience of my grand girls and the kindly shop owner, and I pray they will always remember this simple example of paying it forward.  We had a great time together on Cedar Mountain at our camp.  They were such a joy and we plan to repeat it next year.

Old Prompting Leads to New Prompting?

I made a quick trip to Idaho for my niece Mindy's reception.  I was invited to Rilz and Mindy's wedding in Hawaii and intended to go.  In fact, I was really excited.  I have never been to Hawaii, so with flyer miles, Robin's connection for housing, and planning on fun sharing a room with Nan Arnold, I was out of here.  I kept finding a reason to postpone making the reservations, but with it down to the last day to get tickets cheap, I started the process.  I still could not bring myself to go ahead.  The next morning, now the last possible day to use my flyer miles, I woke up with a memory of years ago when I had a prompting not to leave Rexburg for the trip home with my babies.  Vividly the memory rushed back of me leaving a day early to attend the temple wedding of my friend Ann in SLC on the way home.  I had arranged baby sitters and Ann was counting on me.  However, that morning  I had awakened with an over whelming feeling to not go.  Rationalizing that my car had been serviced the day before, my babies were well, and not wanting to let anyone down, I did not obey the prompting.  When I was about two hours from Rexburg, MY CAR MOTOR BEGAN TO BILLOW SMOKE.  The service guy, who did my car the day before, had not put the oil plug back in after filling my oil!  I ended up being stranded on the side of the road for hours with my little ones.  Dad helped me limp back to Rexburg.  If I had obeyed the prompting, I would have known about it while I was using my car in Rexburg and an early discovery would have saved our car which was never the same after that.    I learned a valuable lesson....listen and obey, even when it does not seem logical.  Now fast forward about 35 years, and I am laying in bed with a light slowing coming on in my fuzzy brain.....have I been being prompted to not make the reservations?  Is the Spirit using my old experience to remind me to listen and recognize a prompting?  Next thought....perhaps I should pray about this.  Next thought....yes you should.   After prayer.... I am NOT supposed to go to Hawaii.  Next thought...oh no, I have people counting on me.  Next thought....what terrible thing is going to happen if I go?  I called Robin and Nan.  Nan understood and luckily I got Robin's voice mail.  I knew she would be very mad, and she was cooled off by the time she talked to me a few days later.  "Why aren't you going?"  Don't know, just a feeling was my reply.  The Monday I was supposed to leave for my week in Hawaii, I felt like I was waiting for a phone call to emergency for a loved one or a catastrophe of some kind.  Tuesday I had a little muscle problem in my upper leg, but I am still waiting for the emergency phone call.  Wednesday I am now trying to not limp, but still waiting for the emergency phone call.  Thursday I realize I am the emergency, I now can hardly move my leg and have chills and fever.  Friday morning the pain in my leg was gone and I am feeling a little better, so I go to the mountain with Walt who wants to go on a long four-wheel ride.  Forget those plans because Friday night (on mountain) the muscle in my other leg begins to pain and now I repeat chills and fever until Monday, the day I would have been coming home from Hawaii!  Who knew I had such a weird virus waiting to take me down...Heavenly Father that's Who.  I would have been a total pain in Hawaii, people worrying about me, and probably wishing I was in my bed at home, not to mention me trying to walk all over with a gimpy leg.  Hawaii will still be there waiting for me someday.

New Attitude, New Neighbor, New Job

A New Attitude,  A New Neighbor,  A New Job

I have wanted to post many times, but just couldn’t get the brain power to do it. I couldn’t even get the brain power to read other people’s blogs.  I finally gave myself a surprise diagnosis.  I have been battling depression since Spring.  As I have never really known depression, I guess I had a hard time identifying it.  Several years ago my daughter who was battling depression for a time told me,  after I tried to say something encouraging, “What do you know?  You are one of the most disgustingly happy people I know.”  At the time I had a good laugh over that one.  It is not natural for me to be sad, grumpy, out-of-sorts, so I guess that is why it took a while to identify.   Also, I do not rave on about my problems nor go on and on about poor me.   I can genuinely listen with empathy to other’s problems, but I usually personally opt out of the personal pity-pot  parade.  Once I did identify depression, I started an attack plan of eating better, faithfully exercising,  increasing vitamin Bs, and increasing magnesium.  I think the exercise helps most of all.  I feel like a different woman when I come home from the rec center.  I also started a new hobby of crocheting around fleece I make into a blanket.  It is mindless repetition and relaxes me.  Maybe that is why most of the old ladies I ever knew took up crochet in their old age.  I thought they were bored, so who knew it was therapy!  So here's to my new attitude or a renewal of my usual attitude.   I know life is what we make it, happiness is found when we look for it, and  joy is always found in the moment if we allow ourselves to feel it.   I love the saying:  I AM TOO ANNOINTED TO BE DISAPPOINTED AND TOO BLESSED TO BE STRESSED—Billy Chrystal’s wife has this hanging over her kitchen sink.

My new neighbor is going to be the Curtis and Katy Lee family, our daughter’s family. They are buying a lot from us and Brandon is building the house.  It is going to be a wonderful spacious home.  They will be between our house and Cori’s house on the other block.  Ivy and I were walking to Cori’s past their new house and she said, “My room is so cute.  Do you want to see it?”  Her room did not even have the sheetrock done yet.  Her little mind already had it perfectly decorated, I found out, as she told me about the rugs, bed, and pictures on her walls.

My new part-time job is Victim Advocate for Washington City Police Department.  I was formerly my daughter Cori’s volunteer when she had the position.  She did a remarkable job and now serves as my volunteer.   It is one of the best jobs I have ever had….lowest pay…..but best job.  It entails working with victims of crime who lack resources or knowledge of the criminal justice system.  Mostly, I help women of domestic violence place protective orders, stalking injunctions, or act as an liaison in court proceedings involving the perpetrator.  I can link victims to safe houses, legal protection, or even therapy particularly if children are involved.   I have a Bachelor Degree in Criminology/Law Enforcement from BYU and years ago I started out in part-time Juvenile Delinquency work.  Now I have gone full circle and am comfortably  back in the criminal system again.  So here I am at the age of sixty-four starting a new job.  It seems like God is not through with me yet as far as my contribution in the temporal scheme of things.  I will keep on keeping on, but the fact is I would rather wear out than rust out anyway.

Special Arnold Visitors

In order to deal with the stress of being at my house, did she take up smoking?  I wanted to get a pic of Robin, but said her lollipop looked like a cig.  Nati decided to light it.

 

Tim, Ginny, Penny, and Walt at Little Black Mountain



Last August, I was given a sweet surprise from my brother Steve and his daughter Rebecca.  Steve flew from Oregon to Idaho to help Rebecca move to California.  They stayed with us on their way there.  Even though they were tired from the trip, it was wonderful reunion.  My family did not know Rebecca, only from my sharing occassional news through the years.  Many of my family came over that evening.  I loved hearing Rebecca laughing with my children just like they had always been close proximity instead of over a thousand miles. 

 My brother Tim and wife Ginny Arnold came for some days of fun and relaxation.  Robin came just two days after they left.  Walt and I completely enjoyed their company.  All our children and grandchildren got together for a big Saturday morning breakfast with Tim and Gin.  It was fun for them to renew family ties to my children.  Later that night, we attended the Tabernacle Choir concert which was very nice.  We enjoyed the old favorites like Battle Hymm, Shannondoah, God be with you, and others.  However, there was one song that was called Liberty or Independence or something like that.  Anyway, I think it lasted ten minutes.  I should not have sat by Tim, because when I whispered to him that it should have been named the "Never Ending Story" and he agreed.  We got a case of the giggles, at least I did.  When the people in front kept looking over their shoulder, I tried to contain it, but.....   When the long boring song finished some people went crazy with applause.  Are you kidding me?  I guess Tim and I aren't very cultured.   Another activity we shared was a visit to Little Black Mountain, a large group of rocks a few miles out of town that have hundreds of Native American writing on them that date span back 5,000 years.  Of course, we ate out almost every day, laughed and talked a lot.  It was a sweet time and we hope they come back every winter.
 
After they left, I picked my sister Robin Hollingsworth up at our new city airport.  I was planning on having Robin with us for many weeks, but her husband Don received an assignment overseas and she flew home after only two weeks.  Robin stroke recovery is still in progress.  She was talking better than last time and she has lost more weight.  One of the first things I wanted to do was get her into the new style skinny pants.  She looked so good in them.  We did something almost every day and her stamina was amazing.  As usual, my family got together for a dinner, and then later in the week we had a girl's craft day.  We set up the sewing machine, Cori had her  vinyl cutting  Circut, Sheena made a bracelet, I sewed some bibs, Nati made a pillow, and Katy did a paint project, Cori helped Robin make a very cool birthday calendar board.  Jessica flew in from Provo to join our fun.  Her little Emma was the center of attention. My house was a wreck, but with the girls help, we got it mostly cleaned up in time for dinner and a movie.  What a fun day for all.  Sadly, I put her back on the plane, but she had bought or made so many fun things, she had to pay to have a big box sent home.

Some how the camera got set on raw and the pictures would not be accepted by blogspot.  Unfortunately this is one of the few that went through.  There were some great picture of our get together with everyone in.  Oh well.....

A Real Winter




Who's the kid?  Walt and grandson Colby enjoy a very rare snowball fight in our backyard. Snow laid for five days. Unheard of for our climate.



Walt and I went up to Cedar Mountain first of January.
This picture is a few miles from our property.

January had some cold weather.  We did not have it for Christmas, when I like it.  It came after.  It was fun for the children, but I was ready for our St. George climate after a couple of weeks.  I am no longer an Idahoan, but a southern belle these days.  February and beginning of March is like living in Oregon.  The mornings are cloudy and moist, clearing off to blue most afternoons.  Very strange for our part of the woods.  Of course, this would be the year I took a winter gardening class at the college.  I planted in October and gave it a try.  I guess it works most years, but this year it froze and froze again.  The garden was a bust and many of our permanent yard plants were damaged.  So sad.  I planted another winter spring garden. I have beets and peas about three inches high, and broccoli about seven inches.  Maybe I can get something off this one.

Old Friend and a New Creation

Kareen Winder, a friend of more than fifty years, came to St. George with her husband Ken who was attending a business conference.  Kareen and I made plans to spend Wednesday afternoon together.  I always have enjoyed my friendship with her, so I decided to make her a "thank you for being my friend" apron.  Tuesday night Walt has bishopric meetings, so I thought I could whip it up while he was gone, easily having it done by bed time.  Now my thinking has always been, wrong as it may be, that when one is doing something nice for someone else usually things fall into place.  Don't ask me where I came up with that theory, but my apron project was proof it Iis wrong.  I started with selection of material not thinking about the quality the pink material versus the perfection of the color match.  I later found out that the material  had too much stretch and became a nightmare sewing the ruffle flounce, taking twice as long as another apron I made out of the same pattern.  Next my needle broke, that often happens, but this time braking the tip down in the casing where I had to dismantle the bottom of the machine to get it out, and I am mechanically challenged.  Wednesday morning I woke up earlier so I could get it done by 11 a.m. when Kareen was coming.  I sewed the entire ruffle on, taking great pains to be very slow, working each stretch carefully under the foot pushing it with my  little implement I devised.  Ah, beautiful, so I took it out from under the foot and the ruffle fell off!  The thread had broke right when I started the seam! I had been so worried over the stretch, I had not noticed the thread was not there.  This was when I could have cryed, but instead I had a good laugh, cranked up the volume on my pandora radio station, and sang a little louder.  What a comedy of errors and all mine.  I then threw perfection out the window and just pushed to get the apron finished.   I called Kareen to bounce the date a half hour later and got it done.  It was all worth it.  She looked cute in my friendship thank you and we went on to spend a great afternoon together.  As usual, the time flew as we caught up on the happenings of our busy lives.  God has blessed me with such wonderful friends. Kareen is and always will be one of them.

Four letter words

(Copy of email I sent to my family.)   Since the passing of a couple of weeks,  my mind has  returned to the discussion on swearing I had with some of you  at a get together at Cori’s house.  One of you said she had set a new years resolution to stop swearing.  As none of you say many cuss words around me, I was surprised. I shared with you at that time, due to the cussing environment I was raised in, I had constantly battled the problem  of swear words coming to mind, but with hope, prayer, and time eventually swear words have  faded from  my mind as well as not come out my mouth. Why? Because I did not want my children to learn to swear. I did not want my children to be raised with the lowest level of word usage. Since the afternoon I spent with you, I have thought often of what I should have said and there are a few things that have come to mind. First is the simple true fact that we are judged by others by what comes out of our mouth. We can act one way, but if we express ourselves contrary to our actions there is now a question mark of who one really is and what that person stands for. When words match actions there is never a doubt as to what that person truly stands for. I sincerely think that you are all wonderful women who want the highest level of communication in your homes, that you desire to be exemplary mothers, wives, and friends, and each has a personal love and belief in the Savior. Shouldn’t these actions match spoken words? Most things thrown at us in this life are out of our control. However, one thing we always have control of is what comes out our mouths. It is my observation that the greatest power in the world is the power of the spoken word. Words can heal, words can bring understanding, words can uplift, words can give courage, and words can inspire. A word seems like such a little thing, but out of small things comes that which is great. Even though the following story is not about swearing, I think it illustrates this point. I love each of you with all my heart.

Story emailed to me :
Several years ago, a newly called Mormon Missionary accepted a call to serve in Houston , Texas . Some weeks after he arrived, he and his companion had occasion to ride the bus from  their apartment to the downtown area. When
he sat down, he discovered that the driver had accidentally given him  a quarter too much change. As he considered what to do, he thought to himself, 'You'd better give the quarter back. It would be wrong to keep it.' Then he thought,
'Oh, forget it, it's only a quarter. Who would worry about this little amount? Anyway, the bus company gets too much fare; they will never miss it. Accept it as a 'gift from God' and keep quiet.'
When his stop came, he paused momentarily at the door, and then he handed
the quarter to the driver and said, 'Here, you gave me too much change ..' The driver, with a smile, replied, 'Aren't you the new missionaries at the Mormon Church in town?' 'Yes' he replied.
'Well, I have been thinking a lot lately about going somewhere to worship. I just wanted to see what you would do if  I gave you too much change. I'll see you at church on Sunday.'  The now stunned missionary got off the bus and silently expressed a sincere prayer of  forgiveness and said,   'Oh Heavenly Father, I almost sold your Son for a quarter.'
Our lives are the only scripture some people will ever read. 
Watch your thoughts ; they become words.
Watch your words; they become actions.
Watch your actions; they become habits.
Watch your habits; they become character.
 Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.

Christmas Eves Blast from the Past



Seven Christmas's ago Logan was Joseph, Victoria was Mary

Walt is attending the Utah Ground Water Association convention held each year in Nevada. ( I am still trying to figure the location choice.)  Anyway, I am alone for a few days and decided to do some catch up.  Christmas was wonderful as usual and it seemed even more so with not having to worry about adult gifts this year.  The pain I have been putting up with in my right shoulder was almost gone by Christmas Day, so I was able to totally enjoy it.  Christmas Eve was held with our usual breakfast.  We are still able to seat everyone for big occasion dinners, but it is getting pretty tight.  We always do buffet.  We supply the ham, pancakes,  and paper goods.  The rest of the family brings eggs, hash browns, syrups, strawberries, whip creme, juices, and everyone brings bacon.   We always have a family home evening centered on Christmas.  This night is probably my favorite night of the entire year.  I was going through some of the older pictures and found some from our Nativity Christmas Eve home evening years ago.  As I am using my blog for journaling and will publish to hard copy every couple of years, so I wanted to get these included.  The children are so much older now, and of course, some grandchildren were not even born yet.  The pictures were taken with my old camera so the quality is not too good  

Our three wise guys, oops, wise men, Jade, Justin, and Brad

Brad was a very wise man.

Walt was the narrator.  (Does Walt ever age? He looks the same today) We sang a song about each event of the birth of Jesus. Taiha, our angel, looks tired.

Morgan was a shepherd, Lesley a cute little lamb

Josie and Taiha are angels, Morgan a shepherd, Lesley a lamb

Then appears our grouchy donkey, Jaxon



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Even our dog Moe made an appearance.  Precious Moe was killed in a four-wheel accident several years later.



Time Heals All Wounds?

I woke up very early this Sunday a.m.  We now go to meetings at 9:00 a.m., so with yesterday being New Years Day, I did not prepare my Strengthening Family lesson until this morning before church.  I awoke long before the alarm, probably close to 4 a.m.  There in the dark my mind replayed, almost in panorama, the last decade of the most major of tribulations we have experienced.  I am a naturally positive optimistic person.  I do not work at it, it is just there, deep in my soul, I am happy with a smile on my face.  I was born with it.  So it was extremely unusual for me to experience scene after scene of harder times of the last ten years.  First, to my mind came the vivid pictures of my our nephew Bruce Cluff's death.  I loved him as a son.  I tended him when he was little as he and my daughter Cori Ann became the closest of friends.  He was in and out of our home constantly, lived with us before his mission, and lived with us again after until he was settled in college.  When he was a father of two, with one on the way, his military plane crashed in Columbia.  We housed his siblings during the two weeks he was missing.  It was an ordeal I never want to repeat.  I still think of him often and miss him terribly.  Next to my mind came the sale of our drilling business to a person we trusted.  Walt gave him every advantage financially to help him get a good start.  We soon found ourselves in a betrayal. Without our knowledge, this person turned quickly around selling the business for double the amount to a another man who had also wanted the business from us.  Walt had honored the first person because of a handshake to keep his word. Our buyer did not disclose to his quick- sale party the terms of our agreement to settle tax liability, pay off supply expense incurred on a drilling job that he received payment for, and drill a well on our property on Cedar Mountain.   Our accountant firm, who had drawn up the contracts and had been present at every negotiation, offered their lawyers free of charge to prosecute this dishonorable person citing numerous breach of contract.  However, after much prayer, Walt decided against it and I honored my husband's decision.   Next my mind relived the excitement of our daughter's mission call.  We were thrilled, she was our first missionary.  She had several emergency admittances regarding asthma and allergy.  She had been ill at times, but still loved her mission.  Several months passed when we received a call from her mission president.  Due to the more strict medical guidelines, she was asked to go home.  She had refused to return, so in a tearful phone call, after prayerful council, we said come home.  Our broken hearted faithful daughter came home from a treasured beloved mission.  My mind replayed when Walt was involved in a accident where his hand and arm were seriously burned.  He had to go to the burn unit to have the area scrapped several times a week for a long period of time.  My mind went to some trying times when a couple of our children had marital challenges.  My sister, whom I am close to, suffered a massive stroke losing use of an arm,  leg, and fluid speech,  even though she is only in her forties.  This greatly affected me. Next in my panarama came the termination of my contract with the Southwest Utah Health Department due to budget cutbacks.  Over an eight year period of time, I had built two programs.  I handed them over to two people still in their twenties who would  "work them into" their already busy schedule.   My mind then went to this unprecedented economical crash, our future retirement depending on rent of two commercial buildings. One now sitting empty due to  the tenant going out of business, the other having to lower the rent to the point that it hardly pays the expenses to keep our real estate investments.    We are now at the age we projected for an early retirement, but my husband is running his water pump installation and repair. There are fewer clients nor  are there business  buyers whom we planned on selling to by this point of time.  After this panorama was complete, it came to me how we had gone through all of it with calm and peace.   As my mind's eye looked at each tribulation packaged into a decade, and I don't think I had ever viewed them in such a context nor dwelled on them,  I realized there was a silver thread that ran through every experience.  I could see with each tribulation, Walt and I had been been wounded, a jagged tear, a gaping hole.  I saw clearly that the wounds had been cleansed with the blood of Jesus Christ then sewn up with the threads of the atonement.  Through this last decade, we have experienced peace, love,  joy,  long suffering, and hope.  Our faith and testimony is stronger now than ten years ago.    I had someone say to me once that time heals all wounds.  Perhaps, but time's healing can leave a jagged scar.   Through the application of faith, I have found that the Savior heals all wounds,  but His healing leaves no scar and in place of a wound, gratitude.

This, That, and a Tiny Miracle

I am pretty much done with Christmas preparation.  Our family dispensed with buying for one another, so we could all help a family who has not been able to work due to back surgery.  This decision made for a very stress free December.  No worry on what to give or buy for the adults.  My arm can now move forward, back, and a little sideways.  Therefore, I was able to make an apron for Kim's b-day, and paint a couple of snowman ornaments.  I made two, one for my friend Wendy and the other to hang on my own tree.  The ornament is of snowman couple, a snow scene, the year, and names of Walt and Penny.  On the back I wrote, Two Hearts Melting Into One.  They turned out very well, but due to their round shape pictures distort them, so I did not attempt to post a picture. 
Now for my little miracle.  I have tried  recently to be more specific in my prayers.  I asked this morning that I would be used as an instrument to help someone come closer to Him.  Short, to the point, a simple here I am.  I went to a Kitchen Center that has a great selection of storage, mixers, etc.  When I was looking at the aprons, I was standing by a lady that said while she was looking at them, "I just sent one to my niece."  We struck up a conversation and then I notice the store had put in a little soup and sandwhich cafe.  She told me the soup was great as I went to look at the selection.  As we were deciding what to have, I complimented a lady in front of us in line that was in total Christmas attire.  Red and green all over her, she looked like an elf.  After paying for my soup, I asked the "apron" lady if she would like to join me.  I  can't recall in my life ever having asked a stranger to join me for much of anything.  She said she would like to as she was alone that day.  We found a table and that is when I noticed the "elf" lady sitting alone not too far from us.  I asked if she would like to join us too.  She told us she "didn't want to interrupt us", but we both reassured her she would not, so joined us also.  She later told us that she thought we were friends the way we were communicating with each other.  She was happy to have the company.  So there we were three former strangers, now Pam, Gloria, and Penny.  We talked for about 45 minutes as we ate an amazing squash soup.   Gloria asked us if we had been to that cool store called Deseret Book and Mormon Handicraft.  She said the store was like walking into heaven, people so friendly and helpful, "such a great feeling in there".  She had moved here from Washington DC where she had recently retired from being a budget analyst for the military.  She said she did not know why she had come to St. George, it just "kind of happened".  Why were you in Deseret Book?  She then said she had an interest in genealogy and someone had told her there was info there.   Where do you live?  She then explained she was about two blocks from the temple.  Pam, the elf lady, turned out to be a nonmember also.  By the end of the hour, both women had given me their names and contact information.  What an experience!  I will submit their names for missionary work as soon as possible.  When we parted, I felt like I had said goodbye to two old friends.  Maybe they were ....a long long time ago.

Two Pure Joy Moments

After a month of hurt with my arm, I have experienced a hectic but fun Thanksgiving, several weeks of  ball games for grandson's Brad, Morgan, and Logan, and last but not least, ornament- making family home evening last night with unexpected attendance of Jessi, Cody, and Emma from Provo.   All wonderful, but I was exhausted this morning.   I took time for a short thank- you -prayer and asked to feel joy today.   After cleaning the house and gathering lost and founds, I decided to return Nati's jacket on my way to run errands.  No one was home and she asked me to just go in and leave it.  After placing it on her sofa, her beautiful tree caught my attention so I went over to see if the ornaments from last night were on her tree yet.  I soon found myself studying many ornaments from years past, most made at my home.  Brad and Morgan's name and year carefully recorded on the back.  Then I noticed older handmade ornaments Nati had made when she was a child.  She had carefully placed them at the top of the tree, some made of clay, some of wood, some of fabric.  In my minds eye, I was once again sitting with my little ones around the kitchen table, no care for perfection, but just simply guiding them as they did their best to make an ornament they would display with pride.  Little did I know back then I was starting a tradition that would stretch into the next generation.    Then it came, an unexpected saturating indescribable feeling of pure joy.  Then on my way to a fabric store, a lady caught my eye.  She was limping, but with a good arm carrying a small bag of groceries.  As I got closer, I saw she was holding the other arm in front of her, the fingers curled, her wrinkle-free face pulled lower on one side.  She was a young stroke victim obviously on her way to the low-income apartments that are behind the grocery store.  I immediately thought of my sister Robin, she having experienced a stroke only in her forties.  I was suddenly struck with the contrast.  My sister lives in a beautiful one level home that she can navigate well even since her stroke.  Even with limited use of an arm and leg, she has taught herself to drive her car again.   I thought about how blessed she has been to have a daughter living right next door, the rest of her family within close proximity, and a son and son-in-laws to help if she needs it.  Then  it came, the saturation of pure joy in my whole being for the blessings my sister has been given.  My simple heavenly request to feel joy today had been granted not once but twice.

Our Geneology Rexburg Trip

Robin and I with Elmer Park, our Mother's youngest and only living sybling

It snowed and hailed.  I was still cold in my down coat even with a warm hug.

My sister Robin and I left for Rexburg Idaho to visit with our mother's brother Elmer and her nieces.  Our purpose was to renew friendships and gather genealogy.  We arrived after dark on October 25 and as we came in on the freeway there it was.  The Rexburg temple shining brightly on the hill.  It was spectacular.  We met Uncle Elmer Park and his wife Merlene the next morning for a temple session.  Robin had not attended yet as I had the summer it opened.  It was humbling to see this manifestation of the prophesies out great grandparents had heard many years ago...that a temple of the Lord would one day be on that hill.  When the times were hard for the early Saints, general authority traveled from Salt Lake to bring hope to the discouraged saints.  The elements were "tempered" in the name of the Lord and it was promised that there would one day be  productive farms, a house of learning, and a temple.  These promises were shared with the pioneers from a wagon box.  One such account is shared in our Arnold history.  The saints sat on the floor joists of our great great grandfather's house listening to the hopeful messages shared that week.  They are now known as the Wagon Box Prophecies.  

 Elmer and Merlene work in the temple and they took us on a tour, followed by a dinner in Rigby, and a warm visit at their home during a bitter cold day.  Robin and I took pictures of our parent's homes and took flowers, provided by Elmer, to our parents graves.  The next day we met with our Aunt Ruth"s (our mother's sister) daughters Becky, Sandy, and Cheryl.  We went to dinner with them, and after having a wonderful visit with them, returned to Becky's to copy genealogy.  Becky has been gathering life histories and records for over 30 years.  We copied hundreds and hundreds of pages.  She is an amazing women.  She is and has been a blessing to the entire Park family.  Her sacrifice of time, money, and talent serves as a example for all of us.She is suffering from cancer, so we were amazed at her physical stamina while we took many hours to copy what she had so painstakingly gathered.  When I was on my way back to Utah, I called to thank her once again.  She told me that she too was amazed at the physical well being she had while we were there.  She had not experienced such good days for a long time.  She said she felt strongly that our ancestors had helped her because they wanted us to have the information.  After I returned my sweet sister back home I spent my last night at my brother Tim's house  before I left for home.  I was exhausted and my right arm was starting to really hurt me.  I had a fitful sleep, but  I awoke with the realization that I now had in my possession two hundred years of family history.  With that thought , I realized I  was humming the song from the movie Titanic...a song by Celine Dion.  The words in my head were "Far across the distance and spaces between us, you have come to show you go on. ...Once more you open the door.... and I know that your heart goes on."  The song stayed in my head for a few days.  Maybe it was a spiritual experience or triggered by pictures of great grandmothers in their big turn-- of-- the- century hats. It seemed very sweet to me.

Our Aunt Ruth Harris' daughters.  L to R Sandy, me, Becky, and Cheryl

Robin with cousins

Robin and I in Becky's living room

Oregon Trip Pictures & the Traveling Tuna

When I posted about our Oregon trip in September, my camera programs were not working with our new computer program.  I wanted to get a few visual memories of Walt, Tim, and Steve's tuna fishing trip and a few of the rest of us hanging out on the coast.  Right after they caught the tuna,  Steve had it frozen in Oregon, Tim then had his trucking friend bring it from Oregon to Boise, then Tim loaded up my cooler for it's trip to my house in Washington Utah after I returned from visiting Robin and attending Brent's homecoming.  I am referring to it as the traveling tuna.  Walt and I had some the other day and it was delicious.  I am going to can the rest eventually.

Steve looks like the Captain of his ship in this pic...complete control.

It has always made me happy that my Walt enjoys my brothers as much as I do.

Walt told me tuna were bloody.  I had no idea until I saw the pics.

Of course, A highlight for me was enjoying time with my sisters Robin, Ginny, and Sharon.  We went to a flea market while the men waited in the parking lot.  We were just going to be a minute....oh, yeah.   I think the pictures say it all.  We were not in too much of a hurry.



MY BEAUTIFUL SISTERS WITH BEAUTIFUL BERRIES.






The old duffers of the bunch (however, we were not the ones taking the elevator, ha, ha)

Five of my favorite people.

Pain is a Four Letter Word

After seeing the results of my bother Tim, his wife Ginny,  my niece Rebecca, and then a lady at the community center who had hired personal trainers, I was inspired and motivated to do the same and hopefully have a great experience like they did.   I had started resistance training with a official trainer several weeks before.  She had noticed my lack of "range of motion" on my right and explained that she would get it back and gave me a series of exercises to do,  but it went from lack of range to me wincing....but "just keep it up", she shared.    She showed me how to do pilates while I was gone to Idaho, which I did, but I noticed my range was getting smaller and now my shoulder was tender to touch.After a marathon visit to sister Robin's house, loading her stuff and  then the two of us going on to Rexburg, gathering massive amounts of genealogy, getting her back home, then pushing hard to get back home by Halloween night. By Monday night, I could not lift my arm, even an inch, without wanting to share a high pitched scream.  I could not sleep, or let it hang at my side without pain.  I tossed and turned so much that Walt had to move into the other bedroom at night.  When it became obvious it was not going to heal on its own, I went to a doctor.  After moving it forward, scream, scream, then back, scream, scream.  He said, " You have bone spurs, calcium deposits, in your should and tendon.  Nothing you can do now except have a long and painful recovery.  Scar tissue has to form over the ends then you will begin to get relief."  What?I thought.  First of all you haven't even looked at an xray and I know that some magic physical therapy will fix this.  He gave me steroids and a percocet a powerful pain pill.  I am not a pill taker, but I was very happy to get them, and had them down as soon as I could.  They barely took the edge off.  I did not sleep for most of five straight days.After the x-ray results from the radiologist came back, here is what the doctor told me.  "You have bone spurs and a dense calcium deposit in your shoulder and tendon."  He had it absolutely diagnosed before the xray.  I am such a skeptic when it comes to medical.  The extra exertion on the muscle had inflamed it causing it to irritate the tissue near the calcium deposits.  I think spur is a good word for them.  Just dawned on me spur is a four letter word too, like dragging skin backward on barbwire fence.  The perfect visual for what  I have been feeling.  So here I am,  a list of stuff I can't think of doing, Can't drive, can't read, (too fuzzy), can't sleep well, can't get dressed, Walt has to do it all, can't cook, can't, write, just barely can do key board with one hand, can't can't can't.  This healing will most likely last during the holidays.  Poor me, poor little Penny. Then yesterday during my drug induced feel sorry for myself hours, I had a revelation.   WHAT A SELF ABSORBED IDIOT I AM!  MY SISTER ROBIN HAS TO ENDURE THIS EVERY MOMENT OF HER LIFE.  She might not have the pain, but she cannot use her right arm at all.  Now add to that a disability walking.  I thought I had empathy before but now I have had a healthy dose of reality check.  She is absolutely one of the most amazing women I have ever known.  She has carried her affliction with grace and dignity.  She is and always will be an inspirational example to all who know her. As for me, what I am going through is nothing and I know that there is an end in sight.  I need to remember that just because I am in pain I don't have to be one.