IT IS WHAT'S INSIDE

I think I was once a crybaby.

I picked some sweet peas today.
I got tears in my eyes.

Maybe I still am a crybaby -
inside -
I don't think I have changed too much ...

I remember being so small that when I clung howling to my father's leg that he could not peel me off because his knee was at shoulder height and the bump of it made it so he could not slide his leg out of my death-grip.

I remember Necia Bennett (a very kind older neighbor that helped mother) looking deeply into my teary, gray blue eyes as she asked me what color my eyes were. She told me that water makes blue eyes look more gray - gray like rain clouds and that EVERYONE likes sunshine more than rain. She said that she could see that inside I was not a 'gray' kind of girl. She asked me if I could make my eyes like a sunny blue sky.

I remember standing on a street corner with profuse tears streaming down my face and dripping onto the sidewalk the first time I missed the bus (to my country home) in first grade.

Apparently those were not quiet tears.
I had difficulty choking out my name to a would be rescuer's,
  "What's your name little girl?"

I couldn't say.

"Did you miss your bus?"
I cried harder than ever.

When I finally stuttered out my first name he asked my parents names. I thought he was dense.  Their names were mommy and daddy - duh!

He tried a new tactic.
Did I have a grandma? (Yes.)
Did she live in town? (Yes.)
Did I know where? (No.)
What was her name?

Single syllable words can be exclaimed on wrenching sobs. 'Grandma Forsyth' could not. The man turned out to be a shirt-tail relative, teacher (Neldon Hatch). When he finally got me calm enough to recognize what I was saying, he asked if Grandpa and Grandma Forsyth were Neil and Chloe Forsyth. I did not know.  He took the chance that they might know me and walked me to their house.  I was so overjoyed to see Grandma's familiar face that I cried even harder.

L-R: Ken, Scott, Neil, Chloe, Mylo, Duane, Ruth, Bryce, Garth
 Neil Snow Forsyth Family picture about 1959

Grandma was the most beautiful person I had ever seen.  When I looked at her I thought she rivaled any prettiness I had ever even heard about.

left to right - back row: June (Bryce), Verna (Duane) , Jean (Garth)

front row: Robert (Ruth) Horne, Gladys (Scott),

Neil and Chloe nee Hatch Forsyth, June (Ken), Matilda  (Mylo)

I look at her pictures from that time and notice no apparent great physical beauty but I saw her with the child-eyes kindness and love bestow.

Neil Snow Forsyth family about 1940

Grandma always grew sweet peas trellised along a fence of their yard. In season small bouquets filled indoor air with their wonderful scent.  I loved to walk along the fence and bury my nose into the blooms and inhale until I couldn't draw in any additional air without fainting.  As I would reach that dizzy zenith I was finally forced to exhale.  I would walk a step, or two, to a fresh spot and breathe in again.

I loved to go to Grandma Forsyth's. I stayed overnight there that traumatic day I missed the bus.  I loved it so much I missed the bus repeatedly.  (I didn't need to cry though.)

My sweet peas are blooming now - it is a little late but I gather bouquets to put inside. The more you pick them the more they bloom.  I still make myself dizzy trying to get enough of that special smell. And I remember Grandma.  Tears come to my eyes.  She died just after my birthday.

I miss her still.  I have never met anyone that treated others - and in particular me - with kind respect of that magnitude.  She made me feel that I could be and do anything.  I always felt happy around her.  Even when my grandfather seemed quite stern.  She helped me understand the ways he showed love.

I want to be like her in that way.

Sweet peas look pretty and are quite fragile. The blooms do not last and last.  The scent lingers though ... it seems embedded into my being -

I can call that sweet smell to memory long after spring or summer pass by saying her name or thinking of her. Kind gentleness always makes me think of sweet peas.

I think of them and her ...

I THINK I'M CONTAGIOUS

GRANDPARENT VIRUS

                                       WARNING AND DISCLAIMER:

              THIS IS A CONDITION OF THE POCKETBOOK AND TONGUE.

Grandparent Virus has been known to strike unexpectedly. It can be time consuming and is very disruptive to schedules. Anyone involved is advised to exercise particular caution prior to making any and all appointments.

Please note that this 'dis-order' does not seem to affect one gender more than the other [contrary to common myths]. It does affect the types of cars, clothes and furniture purchased and even the way households are arranged.  Although not contagious, except to spouses and other closely related family members*, it may produce similar symptoms for close associates, usually upon repeated exposure.

Onset may be sudden, or gradual, with differing degrees of acknowledgement or denial. Persons of sound mind may seem unaware of radical changes to their usual routines, activities, conversations and general lifestyle. 

If friends, coworkers or other acquaintances express any concern, those manifesting this syndrome show apparent enjoyment of symptoms, little embarrassment and virtually no concern over unpredictable and frivolous behaviors.  Many profess profound pleasure from their condition despite repeated and varying unforeseen consequences. Finances may be strained as purchases fluctuate wildly and all previous expectations of common sense evaporate.

Many smitten with this malady report that they are most affected during (and immediately prior to or following) family visits, phone calls, e-mails or texts. Imaging past and future visits, calls, and letters or viewing family pictures can produce characteristic symptoms. Victims seem unable to predict when uncontrolled spending, bragging or exhaustion will take place or the severity with which symptoms may occur. Multiple repetitive copies of pictures may be shown randomly or mailed to everyone that is interested or available AND to some that are not.

To maintain a budget and friendships those that have contracted this virus may need to exert caution regarding not only where they shop but even where and when they stop.  Particular alertness in the vicinity of camera shops and retail areas for photo printing and supplies is recommended. Symptoms may become more pronounced in children’s boutiques and toy stores. Department stores, grocery stores (the treat aisles seem to cause the greatest commotions), book stores and craft stores may also precipitate attacks. Symptoms may appear in almost any location, including auto part and farm implement suppliers [those toy tractors are wonderful] and at concerts and sporting events. Those in acute stages may be overcome anywhere. 

Individuals who have already contracted this virus seem to be the most resistant and tolerant to side effects from others but anyone within immediate proximity should be aware that all infected individuals may precipitate extreme fatigue in self and associates. Disinterested bystanders may exhibit classic eye rolling, head shaking, or boredom. 

 

There are at present no known cures for viral infections and this virus must also generally run its course.  Family peace is most readily preserved when everyone in the family allows other family members equal privileges for bragging rights and picture sharing without impatient interruptions or excessive and competitive behaviors. Understanding support from friends is generally well accepted and often enthusiastically welcomed. 

Plenty of fluids and extra rest seem to shorten many viral illnesses but Grandparent Virus seems to be prolonged by these time tested remedies.  Although regular lengthy exposure to grandchildren seems to effect the most general cure, symptoms seldom disappear entirely and anyone that contracts Grandparent Virus is unlikely to ever be entirely symptom free.  Time and experience seem to lessen side effects and Grandparents do learn to manage the ever present crisis of scheduling and fiscal opportunities.

GOOD LUCK and BEST WISHES.

*(This virus does seem to mutate to various interesting expressions in other individuals, depending on degree of familial relationship to those affected. Two other well know related afflictions are Sibling Rivalry and Baby Blues).  

29 AGAIN

Kurri did you just turn 29 again?

I am guessing you don't fit that category.  Besides that would mean you still haven't had all your kids yet! So I am guessing you love being the age you are. I love being the age I am.

I hope you do too.

Canadian women live longer than most other women in most other nations including the USA. Granny Bohne lived to be 105.  You have only lived a third that long.

Imagine all the wonderful things you have to look forward to.  You may be able to imagine things what might happen in the next 1/3 of your life.  I predict that you can't even guess at the things that will happen in your world in the last third.

When I had lived about a quarter of my life I heard many jokes and much trash talk about becoming old at age 30.  I saw lots of 'black mourning' for those 'over the hill' as they were teased about being 'old'.

I realized I have a different perspective.  I do not look back with longing - I looked forward with longing.  I do not envy teenagers. I envy grannies.  I am amazed at all they have done in their lives and all the things they know. I can hardly wait to be like them.  I still can hardly wait for tomorrow ... what will I learn and get to do next?

When David's father was in his 70's he used to say that 'old' was 10 years older than he was.  Looking ahead, 100 still seems a long way off to me.

Happy Birthday,
enjoy this day that celebrates all you have been,
all that you are now,
all you may become -

It is such an open book,
a sentence without a period,
an exciting future ...

A SILENT HOUSE

7:45 a.m. David is hurrying to work.

I leave the computer - 15 zillion things open and working - walk 12' and open the frig to hand him food for breakfast on the run. The light is off. WHAT?? I close the frig.

I check the  microwave clock. It is off.
I go back to my computer. It is black!

The power is off.

David is gone.
I listen.

The wind stirs trees outside an open screen. I hear birds chirping. The steady click of a battery operated clock is the only  house sound - the clock and me; my pencil on paper; the rustle of pages from the Bible I am reading; my chair as I wriggle.

I still myself.
I listen.

Outside I hear traffic.
Outside I hear children playing.
Outside a dog barks.

Inside unusual silence reigns.

I have wished for it, unable to silence the the clicking ticking beeping roar of gadgets and appliances,  and even heating and vents - but not enough to give up electric power or the conveniences and comforts it provides. Now there are no flickering screens or staring digital numbers. No humming lights or cranking appliances intrude on the silence - in all the house. I am so accustomed to tuning out the noise. The silence is stark!

The house itself sounds small creaks and occasional 'pops' even though I sit completely still, unmoving. It seems to have its own whispers as it continues to carry the weight of our lives.

I will wait for power to finish the laundry; power to repair the skirt by my darkened sewing machine; power to vacuum the rugs that soften each footfall; power to press a shirt; and power for this blog and my e-mail, budget, banking, facebook and indexing; power to connect with project managers, creators and contributors.

I rely on power.
I NEED power.

I often tell others to not let what they can't do interfere with what they can.

I can wash dishes by hand and dry them too.
I can dust or polish furniture but usually I don't.
I can knit the scarf I have been working on for months.
I can file and label pictures and bills - sigh ...
I can read scriptures.

I choose to read scriptures ...
and find quiet, real power!

LOCKS and KEYS

I know a man that can easily bypass or open most locks.
He says, "Locks are to keep honest people honest."

An interesting side note is that this man IS an honest person.
He uses his skill with understanding to help and bless others.

We went to the Fair today.
We decided to avoid the parking hassle and took a bus.

The bus dropped Fair passengers off at the 'Purple Gate' and the driver emphasized to each one to notice the purple flag and sign - that is the place the bus will come to again to pick up passengers. The 'purple gates' - (actually there were 2 - a smaller pedestrian gate and a larger gate across the street entry for autos) were open and we entered to enjoy our day at the fair.

When we decided to return home the gates were both chained and locked.  We discovered it was necessary to walk to another exit and then back to that bus stop - irritating but very easy to do.  Another couple were also trying to catch the bus - she was in a motorized wheel chair.

The bus did not come as scheduled and the bus stop was in the sunny open, surrounded by pavement and gravel.  We were very glad for the tiny bits of shade provided by our hats, long pants and sleeves and even each other. We were also very glad we had water with us.

While we waited for the bus we noticed some one with keys (or combinations) open the gates several times to permit people or trucks to pass. As I watched the process several times I thought about fences and doors, locks and keys.

Those with keys and knowledge, to lock and unlock, have comforts, greater convenience and more access than those that do not. Their choices and the time to act on the choices increase. We waited a long time for a bus.

As I listened to the woman in the wheelchair I remembered again what a privilege it is to have a healthy functional body. As we drove away from the fairgrounds the bus seat provided an elevated view of the parking lot.  There were acres of cars.  Each driver has a set of keys that gives them privilege, convenience, choice and comfort unavailable to someone without a car.

We chose to take a bus but later wished for our car. Many choices are like that. For whatever reason, whether faulty information or faulty reasoning, we do something we later regret. It's nice to know that next time we can choose to take our car.

Bus rides can be long and a bit tedious.  People-watching can provide mind fodder.  There are many kinds of keys and locks.  Some are mostly in the mind such as societal mores and taboos. Some, like the locks and fences of prisons, are imposed physically. Each has purpose and intrinsic meanings and uses.

A statement by Boyd K Packer in 1992 startled me and remains to this day in my mind.

He said, "In the battle of life, the adversary takes enormous numbers of prisoners, and many who know of no way to escape and are pressed into his service. Every soul confined to a concentration camp of sin and guilt has a key to the gate.  The adversary cannot hold them if they know how to use it.  The key is labeled Repentance. The twin principles of repentance and forgiveness exceed in strength the awesome power of the adversary ... I know of no sins connected with the moral standard for which we cannot be forgiven.  I do not exempt abortion.

The formula is stated in forty words, "Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more. By this ye may know if a man repenteth of his sins - behold, he will confess them and forsake them." D&C 58:42-43

Isn't that nice to know?
We can choose change.
We can choose more happiness,
more comfort,
more health,
more freedom.

Hmmm ...
Where do I need to grasp and use such a key?

MEMORY FOR MIKKEL

When I was a young girl I lived on a small farm.
Do you remember visiting it and climbing the big hill?

You liked the flowers that grew in the grass.

I liked to climb that hill.
I loved the flowers.

I loved to look down into the valley and out across it and the river and hills to the far away mountains. Tractors and combines just over the river looked like tiny toys.  To ride over there on our horses took 2 or 3 hours and I knew that to get to the mountains we had to drive all day in a car - they were so far away that the brown rocks appeared blue - but I could see those mountains when I stood on that hill behind our house.

The world is so big and yet so small too.

Many flowers grow in the sparse grass even though the only water comes from rain.

One of my favorite flowers is the Alberta Rose.
It blooms and makes red 'rose hips' (those look like big berries) all year long - in the spring and the summer and until the snow freezes it (and then the red rose-hips are pretty in the white snow) .

Rose pink peeks out of the grass and tall tangled thickets of rose briers where ever and when ever there is a little bit of water. Pink even pops up in the gravel along the edge of roads, where the dirt and rocks are so dry and so hard to grow that only one or two flowers grow on tiny bushes that are just a few inches tall.

Papa-pa took some pictures for me when we went to visit my mom and dad last week. We stopped the car and he sat on the ground by the road.

We did not have smooth paved highways by our farm.  The roads were covered in gravel to help them to not be muddy and some were just tracks in the dirt.  Lots of the roads had grass growing in the middle where the tires of the cars do not go.

I loved to walk along the road (or climb the hill) and see the roses.  There were bright pink roses, light pink roses, and very rarely a white one.

a unusual white wild rose that Papa happened on

They smell so good!  Sometimes I would pick some petals and just hold them so I could inhale that wonderful smell again and again. I would pinch them (to make the smell stronger) and hold them to my nose as I walked.  There were so many that I could just get more anytime the ones I had were too bruised and worn out.

When you were just tiny you would stop to ooh and aah over flowers.  You were not even a year old and would toddle along holding my finger and stop to love up the flowers.

You are very strong and tough.  We try to teach you to be gentle. When you are so strong that can be very difficult. We taught you that if you squeezed flowers too hard they would not be pretty anymore.

Mikkel, always remember to try to be gentle.  Be gentle to everyone, all the time.

We love you very much.
Happy Birthday.

NINETEEN and 100

Happy BIRTH DAY Damian!

Welcome to our family.
We are so very glad you are here safely.

And already (within minutes) can see how clever you are. *giggle* And how proud daddy is too.

Papa says these toes are just like his mother's toes. 

You are our 14th grandson and 19th grandchild.
My father tells me that you are his 100th great grandchild.

Woohoo! You have a LOT of cousins!!!

But you are the newest.
And your father is my son.

When he arrived he was covered all over with  fine dark hair.  The doctor said that indicates that he was a little bit past term.  Your dad says you have hairy ears - likely that means you are born right when you should be. Don't worry - that 'fur' all falls off soon.

WELCOME!

NOT YET

Erin - I will never be 'old enough'.

I have kind of always thought 'the best is yet to come'... that maybe in 5 years (or 10) I will see something more fabulous, do something greater or perhaps learn something phenomenal - and it is always true!!! We live  in an incredible and marvelous time - and you will learn and see and do things I can't even begin to imagine.

Like my dad - he still is just amazed by Skype and talking face to face with people far away but at age 2 your cousin Cynthia expected every phone to be able to 'Skype'. He (and Grandma) still have a hard time assimilating that all this new stuff even exists!

My great Granny Bohne lived past 105.
 [click link and then scroll to see her]
So I am just a bit past half way ...
Do you think I can make 110?

Maybe I should start planning ....

Do I need to change the way I am, the way I live? the things I do? or don't? my food? or my activities? in any way? ... so I can be healthy and happy now or at that wonderful age ... or any other age I look forward to before then?

How long will you live?

Try to imagine yourself at twice your age ... 34 ...
What will you be like when you are 34 years of age?
Now think ... at 68 ... lol
That is only 4 times the age you are now!

When you were 4 could you imagine 8?
When you were 8 could you imagine 16?

Think of all the wonderful stuff you can do now you are past 16.  Wow - you are just starting out - but you already have lived so much, and learned so much and done so many things ...

Some things we do, we like and want more of.
Some things we wish we could erase -
or have a 'do-over' .

Some things we want
(that are wonderful so we want them now )
and we try to get, or to have them, too soon -
before the best time.

I always eat too many of my peas when they are still flat -
they are good BUT they are better a bit fuller and rounded out.

Some things are best if we wait to the right time for them.

Peaches are most delicious when they ripen on the tree and we can pluck them and 'drink' them in a few slurps. They are worth waiting for.

Every 17 year old feels 'old enough' -
and really IS 'old enough' for almost anything.
YOU could handle it Erin - you know you could!

But will some things be better - later?

You are old enough to plan, think things through and make GOOD choices - to not be pushed around by passing fads and fancies or to just impetuously act on 'a wing and a prayer'.

Welcome to being past 16.

In my mind I am still 17 and maybe next year I will grow up ... in other words, even though you are still learning and growing all the time you are you, and part of you will always be the person you are now.

Happy Birthday.
I miss you - XOXO
And I love you so much.
'Dama Farfaraway

FOUR NO MORE

when your dad was 4 he loved to make faces

You get to be five!

And you get to share your birthday with your big brother Cody. I have a big brother too.  When I was 5 years old he was 9 years old.  His name is Rex. His birthday is 1 month and 1 day before mine.  I always wished I could share a birthday with someone.

 My next brother's name is Gene.  He gets to share a birthday with our mom.  Then my next brother is Randy and then Tim. I almost got to share Tim's birthday. He is one of my very special brothers. Our birthdays are only 1 year and 3 days apart in the same month.

Three of five younger brothers and sisters are in this picture. How would you like to have 5 little brothers and sisters? It is a lot of fun! My youngest brother, Scott, was a baby when I was 5 years old.

Can you guess which kid is me? I have 4 older brothers!

Can you count to five?
How many times?
Maybe you and Cody can count things together.

Happy Birthday Benson!

"This [day] is such a special one;
It's birthday time for you.
We'd really like to celebrate
Your happy day with you ..."

Since we are here ...

And you are there ...

Imagine we are singing to you ...

A bit off key, loud and full of joy
that you are such a terrific boy.

your dad about age 4

You remind us of your mother -
except you look a lot like your dad too -
especially all those bouncy golden curls!
When he was 5 he had long curls too.
In the summer time they got golden highlights.
He loved to go outside.
He wanted to play outside all day every day
even when it was winter time.

your dad about age 5 or 6

You have a cousin that turned 5 this year.  If you want to see more pictures of me when I was five years old look at her birthday blog here. She has 3 big brothers like you do.  And I think I made you some baby shoes when you were newborn too. Maybe your mommy can show them to you.

So we wish you a
'zipp-a-dee-ay' birthday
with a 'heigh-dee-ho' song
you can hear right HERE - just click
and it will sing to you for us.

Love Papa-pa and Grandma Far, Far Away

9X9

Soon you will be 9 years old.
That is 4 more than Benson -
and on the same day too!

It can be fun to share a birthday.
I hope you have a happy day.
Can you tell me 9 things you like to do with your brother?

You are lucky too because you are old enough
to do things that a 5 year old cannot do.
I know you can.
How many things can you tell me that you can do that you couldn't do when you were 5? Can you tell me 9 things?

If you make 9 piles of 9 things,
(I suggest jelly beans or maybe chocolate chips
but your mom and dad may suggest rocks or dirty socks)
how many things do you have all together?



If you use jelly beans then you can eat them later.

guess what I am going to do with my 'buttered popcorn' jellybeans - hint 

That is how old my mother is this year!
Count out that many (but don't eat them all at once).
9X9 is a lot of jelly beans - maybe share them.

When you look at all those jelly beans imagine being alive that many years. You have lived 9 years.  To be as old as my mother you will need to live 9 years, 9 more times!

When I was 9 years old I had a 5 year old brother.
We do not share a birthday but we had lots of fun together.
One of the things we liked to do was wade in puddles.
(His birthday was in April - spring was coming.
My birthday was 6 months later - winter was coming.)
We got in trouble lots for getting water INSIDE our gumboots.  We got in more trouble when we wore our big brothers (or dad's) big tall boots that came all the way to the top of our legs and got them wet inside. Some puddles were deep in the middle.

with my baby sister Bonnie when I was about 9 years old

I had 9 brothers and sisters! We liked to ride our pony. Her name was Honey. We also loved to go fishing.  I never could catch a fish but my brothers would let me eat some of theirs if I scaled their fish.  I like to eat fish. I also liked to untangle the fishing line when it got in knots. When they wanted their lines fixed I got to eat fish and didn't have to clean or scale them.

Happy 9th Birthday Cody!

SMALL MEDIUM LARGE

I fell in love with Irises the day I first saw the small purple flowers hiding in some grass.

I don't have any 'in bloom' pictures like them  but Julie Tollefson (stranger to me) put up some photos this spring that look exactly like the few I now have in my garden.

An older empty home stood on the corner of some of the land my father owned.  Eventually he used the old house as a barn.  I was quite young and grass sometimes grew to my shoulders or taller.  Walking through it meant parting it and being careful to not catch my feet on the tough stalks and fall.

I have 4 older brothers. All the kids that lived in the valley we called home often played together - 'cops and robbers', 'cowboys and Indians' - or some other hiding chasing game of good guy vs bad guys. We also enjoyed hide and seek.

My legs were short and my young legs never could keep up. I heard them yell to 'come see' and saw them all stooped and looking in the grass at something but by the time I got there they were gone.

Careful searching (with the help of a kind brother) did not help me find the place 'of flowers' indicated by the older kids from afar with a vague wave of the hand in my general direction (in response to my cries). We finally gave up.

My brother and I played some other 'hide in the grass game' and then when we least expected to see them there they were - tiny purple flowers not much above the roots of the grass, on stems too short to pick and carry home.  I was delighted. I think I was the most pleased because they were tiny - just like me - I was always the littlest kid in any group of my age and often played with my brothers and kids like them that were a bit older.

bread tag 2cmx3cm

I am still delighted.
A few that are similar grow in my garden.
Some are only an inch or two tall.
They are my babies.
They are the smallest of my irises.
My mother gave me a start of them.

note the same bread tag on front leaf near center

My mother also gave me some medium sized purple irises.
They grow to about 8 inches tall and see truly huge -
compared to the tiny ones.
They live around the base of my apricot tree.
They are typical vigorous spreading irises.
I love them anyway.
They are getting crowded.
It is time to divide and conquer them -
but what do you do with a million new ones that I can't bear to throw out?

Do you want some?
Honest - they are always less than a foot tall,
even when they are in bloom -
and spread less quickly than the larger ones.

Next I have quite a few large Irises.

same tag about center clipped onto a leaf -
 these leaves at end of the season after blooms 

Bearded irises come in endless varieties and colors. They are very hardy and do tend to spread and meander away from where you plant them.  They are almost impossible to kill.  The most serious problem seems to be an affinity for grass.

Since they are so large spreading growth tends to become a problem quickly and they must be 'divided'.  (They are often well over 18" and I have a few that reach almost 3' when the stalks tower above the leaves during bloom times - and the sword shaped leaves are always a couple of feet tall.) I have given so many away that now I just throw them in the trash.  I can't keep up.

 I love all the colors I have ever seen.  I only have so much yard space - I look - oh and ah at yours (and catalogs and nurseries) - and walk away.  Some one has given me all of mine except one - I admit I had to buy the pale blue one that glistens like it is dusted in glitter.

I also admit I am seriously thinking about
a pleasantly pale pink variety - but where will I put it ...
sigh - maybe ...

PPPUULLL-EEEESSSSSEE

Went for a short trip on Monday.
At lunch stopped at a grocery store deli for lunch.
We love the inexpensive Chinese food we get there.
(That day it wasn't great though.)

There were about 12 tables.
Lots of space for us and the 'no other persons' around.

We choose to sit at the middle of 3 small tables on one end -
 nope wait there were 4 - I can see that in the pictures I captured on my cell phone - taking pictures is such a great 'vent'.  A padded bench ran along the wall. It is much easier for me to sit on than a wooden chair.

We began to eat, realized we forgot a drink, and my husband went to get one. While he was gone an obvious grandma (anyone anywhere near my age most likely is a grandmother)  with 2 school age children arrived.  They stood looking over the ample space and choose to crowd into the corner tables beside me. I edged over enough one way to make room for both children to fit into the corner and eyed an empty table several away - I could not carry both our lunches so I waited for David to return.

I could see David at the till when a young man arrived and sat down on my other side. I was incredulous. I felt like a sardine.  Am I just paranoid and anti-social? Am I famous? NO to both questions but please help me understand why anyone would sit so tightly together.  Have they never heard of bubble space? Suddenly 'shrinking planet' seemed very real.

When David returned we moved several tables away and ate our lunch. At least now it didn't seem like we were at a family style dinner with strangers talking and eavesdropping. Grandma immediately commandeered the space we vacated - a chair for her purse and the table for bags and garbage. An employee attempted to move her cart from the aisle.  She loudly claimed it and insisted it stay.  At least we were not seated between her and the cart anymore but the young man was beside it.

No one else came while we were there.  Grandma and family ate with typical family antics, finished like hungry dogs at supper time and as she left, she flashed me a huge smile as if to say she was the nicest grandma in town and I should applaud!  I exerted my best self control and acknowledged her huge friendliness with a blink and slight nod - very slight! (NOTE: I did not scowl or make rude gestures.)

The young man talked/texted continuously. An older woman, a mother or likely a younger looking grandmother, briefly stopped to give him some instructions or some such thing (by his expression and body language) on her way out of the store with a cart of groceries and then later, just before we finished a young lady came to meet him and they left together - holding hands. (So glad I hadn't been able to eavesdrop on him.)

I suppose he really NEEDED to be able to watch the door she might arrive through - except mostly he just looked at his phone.  He certainly was not watching for the woman - she came from behind him and he was startled when she got his attention.  Perhaps he had a viable or at least understandable reason to park where he did. And I suppose he really might have needed his back to the wall - most young men feel most comfortable against a sturdy wall - lol.

Help me here, please - I just want to understand - WHY??
Why did they all feel the need to sit so closely packed together?
Why did WE all choose to sit on that wall?
We could have had the same view one table over.
There were 4 or 5 tables arranged along the other wall.
Understanding.  That is all I am still thinking about.

just before we leave - still empty except our bag and drinks

On second thought - I don't want to know.  Really.  Because then I would have to want to know why Grandma deliberately left behind 2 packages of ketchup on a table when they left.  I kid you not - she gathered up all their wrappers and then placed the ketchup back on the table.

Would you use ketchup left on a table in a deli?
Please don't answer - I DON'T want to know!

INDEPENDENCE DAY

The birthday of the United States of America is celebrated July 4th.

 In 1776, 13 colonies in North America joined together to declare independence from all other governments and nations. The United States of America began a form of government that continues now, 235 years later.

This 'constitutional republic' is one of the world's first, if not the first, modern national government of this kind. Those living in the United States enjoy many freedoms and rights found in no other place.  

My deepest and most cherished beliefs, and  most of yours - though you may believe differently and cherish ideals I do not,
 are protected and allowed.

Each person is allowed "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness".

This form of government derives it power from those it governs. 

I was born in Canada. 

I live in the United States of America.

I believe every person has a duty and obligation to actively participate in government.  Becoming an American citizen permits me this privilege.  Rights and privileges = duty and obligations.

"I pledge allegiance to ... liberty and justice for all"  

144 YEARS

The Federal Dominion of Canada was formed 144 years ago today - 1 July 1867. Most people just call it CANADA

Three British colonies became four Canadian Provinces. There are now 10 provinces and 3 territories that form the world's 2nd largest country by area.

Canada is well known as one of the best places to live in the world. It was number one from 1994 through 2000 and remains consistently in the top ten.

My hometown is in one of those provinces, Alberta.
Alberta has some of the highest living standards in Canada.
It is an incredible place to live or to visit.

I am privileged and proud to be Canadian.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CANADA

BERRIES FOR THE BIRDS

BLUEBERRIES.

Could I live without blueberries???

I may never know -
I think my contributions may personally fund the BB market.

We decided to plant our own.
We planted ...
They died.

We learned, we prepared and planted again.
It has been a couple years.
This year the young plants promised fruit -
not a lot, but some.

The first larger berry was even starting to turn blue.
I took a picture in the morning.

In the evening I went back to show David.
Just to anticipate that really, actual fruit might happen.

The berries - lots of them, were gone.
Why was I surprised?
The birds always share our fruit and they got the BB first
but I suspect that they have no intention of sharing.

I will have to wait ...

And go shopping -

After I finish pouting!

PARABLE OF THE PEAS

I love fresh peas.
YUM!
This year I planted a few peas.

One grew ...
The rest were too soggy and cold.

I replanted - in a drier spot with more light.
Then I forgot to water the new planting consistently -
the seedlings almost died but I finally put the sprinkler on -
I really do WANT some peas!

The new seedlings are now about 3-4 inches high.
Sometimes we need to change what doesn't work -
Sometimes we need to water -
Sometimes we need to stop watering.

Sometimes we need to weed!
(I'll put that on my agenda!)

I teach Course 14 Sunday School class -
teens that are 14 and 15 -
'nough said - we have fun.

Our course of study this year is the New Testament.  Mathew chapter 13 (verses 3 through 9) records a story - a parable - about a 'sower' - someone planting seeds.

Naturally I brought seeds -
of course!

(Most of the class could recognize peas, beans and corn - the seeds look mostly the same as our food except for being a bit dry and shriveled.  They were pretty intrigued to see tiny, tiny seeds - some so small they are like dust, and huge seeds the size of a thumb nail.  Each is unique - did you ever look at a beet seed?)

Home grown seed also helped provide and enlarge some of the analogies parables are best known for - how many pea seeds in a dry pod (or radish seeds in a radish pod - what? you have never seen one??)? How many 'peas' will one plant provide? How do you know if a seed will grow? and will it provide desirable produce? or more seed? How do you get pea seed? Will I get peas by leaving the dry seed in a package? or pod? How much water does a seed need? How much light? What kind of soil? Do all seeds need the same soil?  Are there seeds we don't want to grow? What care does a seed need? Do peas grow best when it is hot? or cold? How much space does each one need? Do I have to remove the huge dandelion dwarfing my seedling? Can I put the seedling back into the ground if it is uprooted when I weed? Why do I have to weed?

We talked about how to know if seeds are good - things we WANT - like me and peas. We read and talked about the seeds and IF they grow - or don't. I showed them some soaked pea seed that had a sprout emerging.

I gave each student a package of peas to take home and plant. I took the sprouted seeds home and planted them in a carefully selected, sure to be moist and not trampled, spot.

Do you think any of the students planted their peas?
I will ask them tomorrow.

The 'ONE' is doing well. One pod will be full enough to use for my lesson tomorrow - John chapter 15.  Jesus tells his disciples he is the true vine and we must be rooted in him.  He explains that a 'branch' can not bear fruit in itself unless it is rooted in the vine.

I took this picture in the morning sun a few days ago.

This young pod reminds me of my students.

Parables can be instructive.

NICE!

One full pod is ready.

I only need one - one will get the discussion started.
I think I will also pot up a small 'vine' to take -
weeds and all.

This pod gave us 7 - we ate them in class.
How many more pods will this 'vine' grow?

There is much to learn from nature.

I may tell the students that steady dating
is like eating a pod too soon ...
it is not ready yet ... neither are they ...
not yet,
not quite.

 Heavenly Father's plan gives us more - more of everything - more that is worth waiting for.

QUINTON

Latin is a fascinating language.

Perhaps not to you -
but you use bits of it every day ...
it is the base of many languages.

My daughter's fifth child is named Quinton. If you look up the roots of the name it comes from Latin and means fifth.  William Whitaker's Words is a great Latin look-up tool.

There are many interesting things that can be done to a name.  Some names have many nicknames.  Quinton doesn't.  But it can be written in hieroglyphics or spelled out with nautical flags just for fun. In school my art teacher had us make pictures using the letters of our names - that was intriguing.

What do you do with your name?

Grandpa Wallace Will Ames was nicknamed 'Bill'.  Papa can tell you some fun stories about nicknames and names - be sure to ask him about his father's nickname of Bill. That story is about what he 'did' with a name.

This year Quinton is 10 - that is double 5 - both hands - all your fingers ... or toes - take your pick.

I hope he has a very HAPPY birthday!

When you were 5 could you imagine being 10?
Could you imaging being so old?
At 10 can you imagine being 100?
Many people live to be that age?

If I imagine what life might be like when I am 100 years old and write it down today, how may things might I guess right and how many things would be totally wrong OR happen long before I am 100? I think I may go do that - write a letter to myself to be opened when I am 100 years old.

Want to join me?
What about you Quinton?

When you are 10x10 years old what will your life/world include? Where might you live? Will you be able to see and hear? Walk? Run? Will you be married? have children? how many? Will you have a car? How will transportation change? Will there still be schools? Will we still need teachers? doctors? librarians? policemen? gas? roads? refrigerators? stoves? beds? books? CDs? movies? How will our food change? What tool do you wish you could have?

And do you have any questions you want to know the answers to?

A SON

Back when -

gender was announced by the doctor as a baby arrived.

We never knew if a boy or girl was coming.

We prepared for either.

As my second child was born Doctor Robert Taylor pronounced, "It's a boy," with almost as much glee as we felt to have a hoped for son.  We loved our daughter and now had a son - a girl and a boy!

Tad was a delightful child. 

His eyes sparkled with interest and just plain fun from day one. 

They still do - he can see humour in even serious situations.

He told me once, "have a good day every day - it is a choice."

On his mission he wrote home, 

"Smile - If you can't lift the corners, let the middle sag."

That saying is still one of my favorites.

Tad loves doing and being. He loves babies and people, music and drama, working and playing, biking and climbing, birds and animals, art and sports ... the list perhaps includes almost anything - he chooses to enjoy life. 

When I learned to print professionally as a draftperson that type of writing did NOT amaze him - what was the big deal? He felt anyone could print like that if they chose to - and he could - and often did!

He excelled in school at any class he choose to do so in AND in any sport he attempted.  His school basketball team, the Hamilton Hornets, won every game - except the last one in the championship - and second place was OK too.  Cheerful Sportsmanship was a way of life.  He sang and danced in Theatre (Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz and Johnny Pye in Anne of Green Gables) as well as solos and choir productions at church. In shop he made small furniture, jewelry and useful or decorative items such as a lamp that we still use. 

Tad always did what ever he decided to do - did it well, and often made it look effortless - and helped you to believe you could do the things you wanted to do.  

'Nice' was a word we heard a lot - from Tad and from those that met him and especially from those that knew him.  If he said someone or something was nice that was high praise - and when others said he was nice - he was ... well - nice about it!!

On a school writing prompt he said he had a nice summer, his teacher and family were nice, classes were nice, sports were nice, and ... well you get the picture - it was a very nice writing exercise.

He loved rhyme and poetry and often wrote verse. 

about 6th grade with teacher remarks in red

One of his first loves was art - even as a young child. 

A beginning mosaic depicts a hawk.

Later art pieces received invitations for display or purchase.

His work improved year by year as he tried and applied new mediums, techniques and ideas and became meticulous. One of his first 'on his own' gifts was a water color portrait of me for Mother's Day. I cherished it then.  I cherish it still.

Along with a typical 'nice' letter.  No special occasion was needed for these - he just let people know he cared or that they were 'nice'. He genuinely has concern for all people and creatures.  It is very difficult for him to understand any cruelty or unkindness. I often said he was a big marshmallow - all soft, sweet and mushy and I wonder how he survives in an 'adult' world  - no - I think I know ... he chooses to see good, and be good, and do good.  

This month he is a year nearer to 40. 

I am not sure he needs to be any wiser ...

only to always remember the wisdom of his youth. 

Happy Birthday, SON.