Sunday, February 28, 2010


Tom is feeding the birds;
robins, sparrows, chickadees,
doves,starlings, blue birds, etc.
This one was unusual.
I took a picture through the window.
If you look hard, you can see a Towee.
I found the bird in the book so you
can actually see what it looks like!
Tom spent some time looking through
the bird book to find this one.
We have two that drop in
now and then.
It's hard to get a picture of a bird.
Cheryl, does Steve take pictures?
Looks like you would post one of the many? in Boulder.
I enjoy seeing the birds,
but it's Tom who tries to find
their exact name.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Poems for Boulder Women's Festival


Aunt Nethella and Aunt Neta
came home only in the summer from teaching
in Garland, for a few weeks...
until she came bustling home ‘for good’
when Grandma was sick and soon died.
She wanted to be there for Grandpa.
She taught at the Elementary School
in Boulder the next five years.
All the kids called her Aunt Nethella outside
Mrs. Griffin in.

She first taught LaRae and Dan Mortensen.
Dan, our second cousin, lived with her.
Along with his grandparents, Uncle George
And Aunt Net.
I moved into the ‘big’ room just before LaRae and Dan
rode the bus to Escalante. Aunt Nethella
drilled into our heads the parts of speech,
took us on field trips, and made us write.
When we went to Escalante, we found she
had taught us well.

I sometimes worked for her on Saturday
Cleaning the new house she and Grandpa
built before he died.
She made me mop the floor on hands and knees
And clean every corner with care.
I washed the seemingly clean windows.
And was paid real money.
Linda and I could dress up in her best
Flapper dresses when finished.
We would tromp downstairs and
do a fashion show while Aunt Nethella
and Aunt Net oooed and awwwwd.

Aunt Nethella had a beautiful lawn
and gigantic garden I could help weed.
She planted sunflowers for seeds to eat.
I stole, with other kids, her watermelon
one night and broke out with hives.
I was rushed to the doctor in Panguitch.
I don’t know if it was the watermelon
or the stealing that I was allergic to.

As we grew older, Aunt Nethella
was someone we visited whether
in Boulder or later, after marriage,
in Escalante. She told us how
Vermon, her first husband, was
impalled on a pitchfork when
he slid off the hay.
She told us stories about Grandpa
and Grandma King coming from
Scotland and pushing handcarts.
She wrote The Escalante Story
And helped Lenora on her book,
Boulder and It’s People.
She was a state representative.

When we got mad at our dad,
We would tell him we were
telling Aunt Nethella.
(She was the only one who cussed him)
He said, “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
If we ever got her told, she did talk to him.

As she got old and blind, she walked the
middle line of the road because she could
see it. She figured others driving could see her.
She bottled the worm with the apple.
She said, “I’m as old as Methuslah…everyone
one parents, my brothers and sisters,
all my friends.” She was 95 when she passed,
just a month before my sister LaRae.
I think of her as someone always there
interested in the family,
and would thank her now for
being interested in all she knew.
Ann King Reynolds

When small, Linda and I walked down the hill to Sherry Lee’s
to play games or paper dolls. Sherry loved dolls.
We walked up the road to Donna Jean’s
Where we’d make a house in the orchard,
Or go slide or climb on the School House Ledge.
Donna’s early yellow apples were first to turn.
We ate those while waiting in anticipation for Snowball’s.
We and Aunt Nethella raised Red and Yellow Delicious,
the last to be ready. We loved each kind, but my
favorite was Donna’s Snowballs, and Sherry’s peaches.

When we wanted to hike or climb or ride horses,
Donna would grab Old Bud, her workhorse, while
we would have to go to Grandpa’s to get Old Buttons,
another work kid horse. Sherry Lee rode Old Tilly.
LaRae finally got Diana, but she scraped us off.
When Powder, mine, grew into a true kid horse at home,
I was happy having my own horse to ride.
One time Donna and I were on old Bud and had a fight.
She kicked me off her horse and I walked home.
The next day she came early to give me a ride.

Delores lived on the other side of Thompson Ledge,
So we didn’t see her often. I stayed with her
and was surprised to hear her mom and younger
sister Anna Lee play the piano. They all loved to sing.
That was a family of cooks.

Jewel was my best friend later on in high school
We all rode the bus and stayed for dances,
and flirted with boys. Jewel’s folks made rugs.
There was always rug rags to tear while
her mom sewed. I never did that at home.
Jewel hated doing it, but I didn’t mind.

Donna and I walked Death Hollow
And nearly died (we thought) of thirst because
we wouldn’t drink that oily water at the bottom
of Death Hollow and didn’t bring any.
We drank instead from a deer water hole.
The old men clapped when we walked into Escalante.
Linda and I took two other hikes in Death Hollow.

Sometimes we’d grab a raw potato and be off
for a hike. Once we tore an old separater
apart at the top of the Boulder Rocks.
We loved finding something new.
We’d climb Thompson Ledge to sit in the hole
in front, try to sneak peeks at baby coyotes,
and make sandstone money in the money cave
To spend at Hansen’s store.

Sherry Lee, Linda. and I rode our bikes to Escalante
over Hogsback. Sherry’s bike broke down
And we pulled it almost all the way.
Sherry was diabetic and she was almost into
a coma going up the Escalante Rocks.
A tourist gave us cokes and her some
Candy. She revived. We just wanted
her safely in town.
Linda and Sherry finally rode the two good bikes
while I waited with the broken one.
It belonged to Sherry and she wouldn’t
leave it hidden behind.

Lila, Marilla, and Clo lived in Salt Gulch.
They were fun to visit and spend the night
on the ranch. I only stayed with Clo one night,
and was so impressed with them owning every
Zane Gray novel, first editions, ever written.
I would have loved to sit in their living room
And read. Clo had this funny dog that
would climb a tree to wait for the bus.
Lila and Marilla were sisters. Lila was my age.
Leslie, their brother, had muscular dystrophy and
I learned how to enjoy a boy in a wheelchair.
What if I were him?

One birthday party, we jumped off the banks
of Sweet Water into a mud hole
sinking up past our waists. We jumped all day,
and came back covered in mud.
What a great day! At night…
the howling coyotes were closer
in Salt Gulch.

We all loved to go to Upper Calf Creek swimming.
When we got someone to take us out, we would call
Everyone with the party ring (one long on and on)
to see who wanted to go.
One night we camped down off the hill
(so we didn’t have far to carry things out).
The next morning we heard screaming
And thought someone fell off the ledge into
Calf Creek, but then we heard it again.
We ran down the side of the canyon.
Every once in awhile there was screaming…
Then it was gone.
Daddy said we had been chasing a
Mountain Lion.

It was Sherry, Linda and I who were swimming
when the flood came. We heard a noise and ran up the
sand rock to see what it was.
The flood was rolling rock and pushing trees.
We watched as it went into our pond at the top
And then down into the canyon
Over Upper Calf Creek Falls.
It was terrifying. There was so much water.
We waited for an hour or so, then decided we
had to cross to go home.
I went first and got over all right.
Sherry Lee came, then Linda.
She was scared and smaller than we were.
She was swept downstream toward the falls.
I had a log and tried to put it out for her to grab,
but she went by.
I ran to the shallowest part just above the falls
and put it out again screaming for her to swim
as hard as she could.

She got out just before she reached me.
She was crying and shaken.
We all went home sobered by her near death.
Linda dreamed about it for years.
We still all went as often as we could to swim.

I loved to call and visit friends or have them come to play.
When no one could play, there was always Linda.
We went to climb on Thompson Ledge when we could get away.
We walked along the curved sidewalks
and climbed up the front to sit in the hole at the top.
We took a can and matches and
made Brigham Tea.

Childhood friends made life more interesting.
We could share and party.
Our parties were many and varied.
We rolled tires off the Boulder Rocks.
We went after dark to see the Blue Light
And other empty ranch house ghosts.
We walked around the grave of Sam Sheffield.
We cooked chickens, potatoes, and corn.
We took strangers to find the Sidehill Gouger.
We played swords with sticks.
We rode the bus and argued about everything,
Discussed everything, laughed at jokes.
We knew everyone, became family.
Childhood in Boulder
was always better with friends.

My friends,
Sherry Lee Poulson
Jewel Moosman
Clo Coleman
Marilla Hall
Lila Jean Hall
Delores Hansen
Donna Jean Moosman
And Sister Linda,
grew, became educated,
married, were responsible parents,
Cared for others…

I consider them lifelong friends
And enjoy the moment
whenever we meet.
Ann King Reynolds

I decided to share with you my poems.
Sculpture by LaRae King

Friday, February 19, 2010

I thought these carvings by Tom on
a number of subjects might work as a headline.


As we focas on many athletic
stars from all countries,
and they compete...rise or fall,
there seems to be a possibilility
of World Peace.
Why do we have war?
To kill before we are killed, of course.
Each country rises up in self-protection.
Knowing life is for the living.
and might only be protected by
death to the other side.
And what about the poor
who live in squalor and see their
babies die of malnutrition
when people in another country are dying
of obesity? How do you spread the food?
A recent charity collecting millions
to feed the children, never managed to get
a single box of food delivered to those in Haiti.
The charity is over-run by organizers
wanting to get rich, live well.
Everyone blames everyone else.
Food and goods sent around the world
for the poor are grabbed by the military
and the poor go on starving,
at least the women and children.
World Peace is a catchword for
politicians, world leaders, and churches.
I am confused.
Is World Peace something that
should begin at home?
What is needed to get along and
actually move toward that end?
The Arabs and the Jews began from one family...
way back to good Father Abraham...
and see as the only solution
death to the other.
Suicide bombers are willing to take
their own lives as long as they can
kill hated others at the same time.
Do they believe even in the concept
of World Peace?
Christians hate the Jews for killing
Christ..even though he says to
"Love your neighbor as yourself."
Are suicide bombers doing that as
he dies with others?
The ten commandments offer a light
through chaos. At least,
if following them, you allow
others to live on earth with you.
The Republicans and Democrats can't
come to a single unifying thought in
a terrible economic crisis,
If whole families can't talk
without argument and bitter complaints,
how can we achieve world peace?
If mothers can destroy their babies
because they want to,
what can they do for World Peace?
No one is at peace.
How do we find it amid all
the conflict, within ourselves,
and make a peaceful nature
strong enough to share
and make a difference?

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


Hamburger for Olympics, complete with
catchup, beef, mustard, lettuce, tomato.

It's interesting to see the Olympics.
I heard on TV that Facebook calls them
the Glitch Games.
The leg of the torch did not rise.
The ice melts and freezes.
The Louve track was too fast.
People fall and are out.
I loved the opening ceremony
with all the tribes from four ways.
in spite of glitches.
What amazes me is how many come
from all the countries,
some I've never heard the name before.
Who is dominant.
Who rises. Who falls.
I personally loved the Italian skater
in the short men's figure skating
and his particular dash.
The older hero doesn't often win,
but who can beat the Russian doing
quad spins?
I felt sorry for Linsey Jacobellis
when she fell and was out of contention,
but was pleased when Bodi Miller got bronze.
I was amazed at that half pipe Shawn White
built to go out in the mountains
(by helicopter) to practice.
The curling is something else.
Where can you go just to try curling?
I'd like to try that.
The Olympics go on..
I just thought I'd add
my impressions just like
a reporter on site!

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Singing Valentine

My first in almost 50 years,
not my first Valentine..
my first singing valentine.
Open it and it sings
"I'm so happy I could shout.."
and the song is sung.
I didn't know he was so happy!
My Valentine to him reads
"Smile, It's Valentine's Day!"
A crazy cat is smiling on front.
After 50 years,
you would think I could 'read'
him better!
We listened to Susan Boyle
on Osgood this morning
and her amazing singing voice,
and hope we can find success of sorts.
We have learned to accept each other...
maybe not happy with all parts,
but allow ourselves to be who we are
and the other the same.
Enjoy the daily commute.
Accept that we have to allow
interests to grow,
and be responsible
for our own.
After 50 years
love is...
still a mystery
in the way
it can expand
and fulfill.

Friday, February 12, 2010


My oldest grandchild loves singing. She is part of a group at Pineview,
as well as the choir.We went to St. George to attend..Grandpa going for his first time.
The program was geared to all the old folks who love to go to programs in
the Tabernacle.I can't figure out how to access the video so you could
hear one song. If I figure that out, I'll post. You can recognize songs sung.
I loved seeing the old Tabernacle. What's with The Seeing Eye?
And the music sounded great in the old building. Shayna can be seen on the video, but my individual pictures are not good. Too dark. I don't know of a grandparent that doesn't love to see their grandkids do what they do. I like going to everything I can, sports, music, activities. It's fun!

Wednesday, February 3, 2010


I love when the trees become ice,
probably one of the few real treats
of deep, cold winter.
My bones shiver,
but my eyes are greeted
by Crystal Trees...
and the filaments of twigs
are magical spider-webs.
The sun hits and glistens
and the magic is gone.