Book Published

My book was published in time for the Boulder Heritage Festival this year.
I didn't attend. Tom lost his leg just the week before and events piled up.
My son Jason came from Texas and built a ramp for the wheelchair and fixed
the bathroom to be used more easily. Peole wander in and out giving rehab, checking wound, and prepare for prothesis. This is my youngest grandson and Grandpa sitting outside.
But the book is finished. It is a good one for the area as it gives information for those interested in the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument...but I put in what was interesting to me. I hope others write and do the the same. That country is a country for stories...none like the others. I hope others will add to my stories. Now I need to sell for awhile. $20.00 for book. $25.00 mailed.
I'll have to provide for all the curious tourists!

Flags

I tried to post yesterday, but was having trouble, but the new picture posted.
I'll try again today. We are enjoying seeing our plants bloom in this cool
spring and summer.
We had an emergency on Monday. Tom's leg tubes blocked off.
We spent half the day at hospital in Panguitch and the other other half in St.
George. Dr. Khoury found a very small pulse and although the tube is blocked,
thought there was a possibility for the blood to get through the foot by smaller arteries and capillaries. He knew that trying to open up the blocked tube was almost an impossibility as he had operated and done all he knew to do (five times).
So he sent us home to see what happened. What has happened is severe pain in leg and foot. Tom is calling to see what can be done...taking the leg off is the next option, I think. So we shall see. I don't know how long he can stand this.
But in the meantime, we will enjoy flowers blooming and water. He is out watering now.

Strange Plant

Does anyone know this plant?
We don't know where it came from or
its name.
Tom has been creeping around this
Spring with a bad back that keeps
him from standing up straight...
spasms in his shoulder that goes down
his arm and if left without help
on down his left bad leg.
He has had five surgeries on his leg
trying to save it and it always hurts.
The last bout he wore a wound-vac for
a month trying to get the wound closed
the wound healed.
He has been trying to get the pain in
his back killed with radio waves.
He fights off skin cancers.
He just doesn't feel well.
We all struggle with old age, but
some seem to be hit harder than others.
His 90 year old brother jumps on his
ATV and heads for the desert.
He smokes and all those hidden problems
will crop up. They have in his leg
with circulation. Groan. Moan.
So when an odd flower appears.
And we have new ones in our window box.
The flags bloom for the first time.
We enjoy them all every day.

Unbelievable Quilt

This quilt of the Last Supper is made with 1/4 of inch size blocks...51,000 of the tinest quilt blocks you can imagine to make this picture. The quilter first made pictures on the computer, pixal picture where he matched all the colors as he went along. To practice, he made inch size blocks of his wife and himself just to learn how to make the picture making a picture quilt and then he did this Last Supper Picture quilt. He had the quilt sewn by machine. That is another amazing job, sewing so exact and so neat with every line of the hands. The machine quilter had to change colors on her machine many times to exactly match the picture. It's so amazing..the picture and the sewing which was done by Don Locke of Woxahachie, Texas. He and his wife came to show off this quilt at the Panguitch Quilt-Walk Festival. Here are two others, but believe me..there is no comparison.
I do love the so many other well-made beautiful quilts. I had just never seen such a quilt with such little blocks made. It measures 183" X 67" so it is large.
I am soooo impressed!

Time marches on

I drove over to view the new Escalante Reservoir and was surprised at the size
of the dam as well as the lake. Fishers will enjoy this new lake. Boaters will
speed around. Escalante can boast of their water supply once more.
I took a picture of this old bridge, one of the first on Upper Valley Road and
this old wagon at the new Heritage Center area where Lynn Griffin's pictures of the Hole-in-the-Rock are on display. I was told that a touring car can get all the way
to it now, except one man said, "You'd be a damn fool to drive it in a car." I guess the road is not all that great, graveled sandy roads.
Towns improve as time marches on, yet history is valued and stories told and
retold. We love the old. We love the new. We want our lives easier at the same time we extoll our history when times were hard and our fore-fathers struggled to
get by.
I am captured by the old, yet don't want to turn back the clock. I would
hate to no longer have electricity, for example. In one fell swoop we would lose technology, telephones, many household items that make our lives so much easier,
and light at night. No, I wouldn't want to lose the energy that runs our daily life. I am reminded of that when the system goes down. Already thousands of us
depend on nuclear energy. As I plant a little garden and grow a few items, I know I depend on others to supply most of what I eat. I depend on others for what I wear.
I depend on others for electricity and so many of my needs. I admit it...I am not self-sufficient.

Extended Family

I wrote this poem for the two young extended family members that died
this month. The picture is family members at the funeral.

Joy
is in the crazy twitter
of thousands of birds
greeting the sun
each new day
Dawn – a portrait

Daylight finds work…
the struggle to face
what is needed.
The sun gives energy and light.

Sunset brings calm
And beauty incomparable.

Dusk
covers and outlines
stark contrasts of
light and dark
moments for solitude
and reflection

Night – moon and stars
Heaven closes around
us once more.

Tom's mother and Carrie's mom were sisters and spent
many hours of their lives together, quilting, cooking
in conversation. They went back and forth on a daily basis.
The girls of Aunt Nellie's and the boys of Aunt Maude...
dragged along.
Extended family touches all our lives.
Cousins become good friends.

Memorial Day

The old headstone has Great-grandpa James King
on one side, Great-grandma Isabella Neil King
on the other, and James (twin brother of John)
King on a third side...all buried at Fillmore, UT.
I remember grandma Isabella coming to Boulder once.
My great-grandma Wilson kissed us all when she left
saying she wouldn't see us again..but she did, several times.
My Grandpa and Grandma King lived to see their son
Max and Glen's and Grandson Stewart go first.
They are in Escalante with Aunt Nethella and Richard,
Aunt Neta and Aunt Mary Ena (who I never knew).
The Kings were hard working, straight talking folk
who loved a joke and a good poem.
My Wilson grandparents are in Salt Lake
Crae went missing in World War II.
His tombstone is in Boulder with Mother and Dad.
And my sister LaRae, gone 20 plus years.
Uncle Reed and his kids are in Boulder.
Aunt Thirza and Ted..later on...and this year
Marge left us and joined the family beyond.
She leaves a hole behind.
Her tombstone is not yet placed.
Tom has been down with pancreatitis...
and I hope he can recover and go on awhile.
We all look to the edge...two younger ones
in their forties joined the other world
on Tom's side. No one is exempt.
Shelly and Leann. Too young it seems.
The spirits lean toward us today
and we lean toward them
wishing them close
wishing them well
wishing them tender care
with concern.
Memorial day...so many have gone
that touched our lives
and leave us here to wait
today.

Spring Trees

I believe my crab apple tree is the prettiest tree in town. You might like this apple, or this one, but I like the pink crab. They are in bloom all over town.
Panguitch in the spring is lovely. Cold today, but lovely. I am dedicating this blog to the younger people in the Reynolds Family who died this week.
Both in their 40's. One has been ill since birth. The other choked on meat.
They will be missed. It is always a jar when parents end up burying their children.
It should be the other way around.
My son has arrived to till the ground and plant the garden. Spring is here.
We had two warm days, but now it is cold again today. Memorial day is tomorrow
and we will think of those who have gone. Our spirits intermingle with those of the past and we feel somehow touched. Spring, when trees are draped in beauty,
is a good time to remember.

Graduation Girl

I decided another blog wouldn't hurt, since it was a big day for Shayna.
The picture did not have Lorraine and Stuart who came. Alicia came running in and out with her girl friend and hugged everyone. Garret played a song for the graduates that made Shayna cry. (I can't think of the name of it) Lori and Mala planned the party, Lynne cooked...Brenden and Shayna were both there---in the same class except for two years since pre-school. That's sort of amazing. I took pictures at the graduation, but they're not good..too dark. The graduation and party afterward were very special. It was fun until Tom called headed for the hospital.
I left, went home.

Final Days

The last concert for Trilogy (Header) is over. Graduation is tomorrow and my first grandchild will be headed for college and the wider world. It's all very exciting. We Grandmas know that time has sped by and we are looking at the world from a different vantage point. But it's fun to send our grandchildren out to accomplish great and important things. I'm sure I will have to add a picture or two to this blog after tomorrow. When events are happening, events must be recorded.

Texas

The house is where Jason and family live after his remodel job...walls, floors, ceiling, bathrooms, paint...pretty much everything redone. It's pretty nice now, but just a ranch house. There are three huge oak trees and peacon trees. The landscape is grass and trees. Drew, Addy, and friends are swimming at the other ranch which is nicer over all. The sand pile was brought in a day or two after I arrived.Jason was getting rid of some sand. Meadow is showing off her couch.
I thought you'd like to see house and yard. There are three oak trees and the rest are pecon trees. I enjoyed seeing where my family lived and visiting their school, their activities, their lives. It was just a great vacation for me.

Off to Texas

I decided to post Drew in his Texas blanket to commerate my trip to Texas.
I fly out day after tomorrow into Austin, Texas. I'm excited.
Never having been to Texas, I don't know what to say...
I know tornados whip through Texas.
Fires are burning out of control.
There are miles of open spaces.
Jason lives close to a wild-life ranch
where animals from Africa roam.
I want to see those.
They jet-ski in Texas.
Addie said she steered the jet-ski.
Where, I don't know.
They roller skate at the rink.
The school has the long-horn steer on T-shirts.
I remember the Alamo and the American heros holding
off the Mexican Army and died there.
I am going to take pictures in Texas
and let you know what I learned.
I wonder if we can all go line-dancing in Texas...
kids and all?

Night of Dance

Perfect name of a night of dancing. So many designs of motion.
Surprising how many images can be made in an evening.
More than I could imagine. Alica, my grandaughter was in eight
numbers, poetry in motion. She did a tap dance number.
I had no idea that she tap-danced. I was surprised.
Her cousin-aunt Annie yelled "ALICIA!" after each number
she was in. Soon the smile appeared.
Grandmothers just love to see their grandkids perform,
It's in the Grandma Code. That's what kids do, perform.
We just sit back and enjoy. That's what we Grandma's do.
It's part of the fun.
Yesterday I watched Logan play clarinet in the
school band. The middle-school band wasn't perfect,
but my grandaughter was. That's the Grandma code.
We just know that one is perfect.
I enjoyed Garret awhile back with his elementary choir.
He played accompanying guitar. Well, you know. You know.
My Shayna went off with Trilogy for her Region solo competition.
I expect a superior rating. Grandma's have a tendency to brag..
so I won't go on long. I have had some good, good days
this year!

Bored old folks

Glade and Darlene were bored so decided to take a day's road trip over toward
the San Rafel country. Of course, they didn't tell anyone where they were going.
But then they decided to go to Loa over 1,000 Lake Mountain, so if they had told anyone they weren't in the right place. They ran into snow so turned off a road going to Cathedral Valley and ran into more snow. They followed someone's tracks
until they suddenly mired in and couldn't go anywhere. They were too remote for cell phone connection, so Glade decided to walk down the road until he could call.
He finally got through to someone who thought he was with Dale, so called Dale when they couldn't call back to Glade. Dale was at home in Provo, not down on 1,000 lakes Baker Road. He knew where that was, so called the Sheriff in Wayne County that he had a 90 year old man and 84 year old woman stuck in a snowbank. They went looking and when no one had found them before dark, called out the Jeep Posse.
A man on a snowcat finally found them at 2 A.M. In the meantime, Glade has walked back up through the snow to the jeep. They were loaded in the snowcat and brought off the mountain. The sheriff hauled them to Richfield...it was now 5 A.M.
Glade called Paul Neimeyer who has a winch on a wrecker and they set off the next morning to bring the Jeep home. They were able to winch it out of the snowbank and get back down the road. Glade called Dale to let him know he was home
and while on the phone fainted dead away. Darlene grabbed the phone...Dale was more than alarmed...and called 911 and Glade was rushed to the hospital. He was diagnosed with dehydration and exhaustion and kept in the hospital overnight on oxygen and IVs. We talked him after we got home from Cedar. He was home, still very tired. He said Dale called everyone in the state, but got them off the mountain. Darlene was wondering, left alone on the mountain for three or four hours before Glade returned, if anyone would find her.
We are very happy the old people lived through their ordeal and hope that they will refrain, at least, from trying to go over snow-covered mountains when bored.

Strolling History

My grandaughter had an assignment to write a poem about a picture that was posted.
Imagine the picture on white paper, the house white...not pink. Click on the poem, then click again ..it will be big enough writing to read easily.
The poem is hers.
Shayna graduates in May. She has been part of a singing group called
Trilogy at Pine View High School the past three years. An ending is coming
with graduation and a new beginning with College. She made one B+ in all high school
classes. I am so proud of her work, her poetry, her singing, her sharing.
I went by pictures with her to Europe (England, France, Germany) last year and enjoyed every minute! I think I'll see if I can join her friends going to Spain
this year through the school. I love what the schools are doing to share with
parents now. Many special events are recorded. I am hoping for a singing DVD
soon to keep forever! I thought you'd enjoy a big of high school fun.

Regrouping

I am just trying to regroup this morning and get my ducks in a row.
I don't know exactly what that means, but...
I am planning a trip to Texas in two weeks, a bit more.
Have to get medication lined up, in order...and figure out what I
need to take for us all to do, if anything. I'll have to see what my
grandkids have. I am looking forward to seeing those kids.

My book on the Grand Staircase needs what? We are on our last look through, I hope. I am looking forward to publishing. People are calling
to order the books I don't have. Camille called and said two guides ;
from Wayne County want one or two. Mala called and said she wanted one or
two for teachers. A few people have asked me. But I've got to get them
done..ready to go. I keep thinking I should include an index. Cover?
Spiral or not? Color pictures or not?

What else? Shall I keep going through the Clyde King book, correct errors?
Maybe so. I am also including a paragraph on Grandpa King's brothers and sisters.
What about all the kids? Enough?

What next? My own history? Oh my what a lot of stuff! Gerry is doing hers, polishing as she goes. It's something of a miracle! She is writing down her story
that many don't see the same way...but she is writing it down. It is happening after so many years of thinking and thinking.

Marge's death tugs me in unexpected ways. I am still trying to recover from the suddenness, not expecting death for a foot surgery. If she would have stayed overnight in the hospital, she might have been saved. Who stays overnight for a
extended-day surgery anymore? But if she had a stroke, the saving might have been hard too. So a quick death might be better for her. Who expects a quick death anymore. When a sister goes, she leaves a hole...that's for sure. I am not ready to ask her what she is doing over there when I am not sure what I am doing here.
I feel it is important for me to take direction for myself. I do hope my sister LaRae is looking after her. I hope Floyd, her husband who died the next day, is finding himself too.

Tom is walking around with his wound-vac. It's a machine that vacuums out the drainage and closes up a wound. He found a belt so he can carry it around and said he would find a peice of baling wire to tie the tubing to his leg so it doesn't flop around. He said, "I'll look like an old farmer tying himself together. If I didn't have a bad leg, I couldn't do all this." I had to laugh. Is that positive thinking about your bad leg or what? Well, maybe not exactly positive, but funny.

Our son-in-law was here yesterday...attending a funeral of a young friend only 27, who lost a leg in a mower accident. His nickname is Legger. They don't know what actually happened to him. His Dad Kyle is also in bad shape. When severe accidents happen to the very young, it's tragic. Helps you put your life into perspective. Lynne took some time to spray weeds. We appreciate that.

This is a blog trying to regroup and move along. Slowly.

Green

I needed something green and have no picture of Alfalfa fields.
King Pasture deer and green forests work.

I dreamed last night that Marge was walking down through very, very
green alfalfa fields on the Salt Gulch Ranch. She was breathing
deep, her lifelong asthma troubles gone. She strolled along
in one of her short sleeved white shirts and pedal pushers with thongs;
the wind drifting through longer hair.

It made me feel better,
She came to Boulder with her breathing machine,
always with medication to take if a real
asthma attack happened.
Knowing she no longer had that problem
was so positive...finding out what it's like
to breathe, without stress, again.

Wolf in the Parlor

Jon Franklin is the winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Explantory Journalism...and this book explaining how the wolf became the dog and human's favorite animal. He marries and his wife talks him into a large-size poodle. He had never been one for animals, but the dog comes and sits by him and soon he pays attention. He takes him for walks and learns from the dog, seeing things he's never seen before. He begins a quest on evolution and how the dog came about to be in his parlor. His study is fascinating. He uncovers one person's diggings that puts the dog and man together about 12,000 years ago. Other animals have books, but not the evolution of the dog. While he is discovering, he writes what his pet dog does...he writes about the how he acts, his smell, what he hears...and the eyes of humans, there perception of color. So many facts that entwine the dog and his human companion and how much they support the other. The dog's devotion. The dog's training. The dog's need for simplicity. What the dog does when reacting to man. This book is one of the most fascinating books every written about a pet. I was impressed. Franklyn talks about people in very practical ways. I even sent some words of advice off to others.
I recommend this book to anyone who loves a dog and wants to understand him. It is outstanding.
My pet Taz (above) acts just like a dog! I would have enjoyed reading this book when he was alive.

Moving sluggishly

The flowers above are some Marge brought for our 50th Wedding Anniversary. We planted and enjoyed them all summer. They are annuals, at least here. It is hard to pull back from death and move on with determination to do what you can do before you also depart. I am hoping the family can pick up and move on, working and helping others the best they can in the time they have. Life is fragile. We need to protect and embrace it. And get about the business of living (line from Shawshank Redemption).
I decided to show you Tom's leg...he still has staples here. The staples were taken out, but the incision opened up and now it looks infected somewhat. He has had about 7 procedures, 3 or 4 operations on the leg. We are hoping to see his doctor when we go to St. George tomorrow. He is also seeing a back surgeon to discuss possibilities there. He is in pain in his leg, his foot, his lowerback, his neck. Oh groan!
Marge and I had fun having work to do, in spite of her pain. She had cronic pain too. She talked through it. She, like Tom, couldn't sleep. Linda called her in the night. I will miss her, but Carry On! I will soon change the subject, but she and LaRae are always close. Seems like too many sisters on the other side.

Touches of grief and love

I decided not to use a funeral picture, but keep this one of Marge.
The wreath was for the casket was very beautiful.
The Boulder Cemetery was covered with weeds and thistle.
Chairs were placed on poor mama's grave.
Marge was placed just down from her first husband.
Just up from her daughter Carmen. Perfect placing, I thought
in the available room. Boulder hills circled.
Floyd's children and grandkids come, wondering, I'm sure,
why she would want dirt and weeds to lawn in Santa Clara.
She came home.

Her family gathered - happy to have her be part of them once more.
Wishing they could have had another day, another visit.
They can all visit when they come to Boulder.
LaRae's kids and grandkids came, as did mine, Linda's, and Gerry's.
Gerry could not come..we missed her and the others who didn't come
.

Scott Burns flew in from Washington D.C.
carried a bouquet of red roses from J.Harlan Burns, deceased.
Said his father made him come, and so surprised the family.
Marge loved Joe some 50 years. She met him as a young nurse
after he fell down the mine shaft and became paralyzed.

Floyd's lawyer gave Marge a nice tribute on her care for Floyd
during Floyd's furneral.
Marge's grandkids gave glowing tributes to both she and Floyd.

Max drove from Phoenix, Claudia from St. George, Gary and Carolyn
and family from Las Vegas, Renae got caught in a blizzard so didn't
make the plane...so nice for them to come.

Raymond and Baby also came from Phoenix. Raymond sang.
Cheryl made a wonderful Marge disk and I want a copy.
Pictures of Marge with Camille's songs.
Camille sang her song for her mother and it was
so beautiful. It left everyone in tears.

Bishop Lefevre conducted and said many words wrong.
He is dyslexic (trouble reading) and says he can't improve without reading!
Camille joked later that she thought she was at the wrong funeral.
His stories about knowing Marge were great.

Kate's dad came for her.

Glade and Darlene (my 90-year-old brother-in-law and wife came)
as did my friend Rolain with Sandra, Cousin Marion and her daughter
and old friend Marilla. Renon came for Raymond.
Larry and Carol and Vard and Farlan
We saw Edith (Lyman), Thresa Coombs and Loya (Lyman)came
And Marge's friends that she worked with in St. George..many.

There many touches of kindness.
Gestures of love. Of appreciation.
My sister Marge is on the other side.
My sisters Gerry and Linda are ready to be mediums
as much as they can; what she wants.
Marge stepped on and left us.
LaRae stepped on and left us.
We will learn what we can.
Before we step on.

My sister, Marge

I am still in shock from the death of my sister, Marge.
The family asked me to talk..her eulogy...her early life
and I've written. I've torn up. And written.
trying to get the facts just right..trying to remember
what made Marge laugh. She picked up all kinds of humor.
She loved facts...could you prove what you said?
She wanted to be a journalist.
Her first book publishing
came when Aunt Nethella gave her the book
she and Aunt ONeta wrote
telling her she could publish...or not.
She made sure the King book was published.
Mother worried her book for years.
Marge talked her into doing the School Teacher's Kids,
then made me help her figure out how to
end the book of Mother's Boulder years.
We got Mother's book about Hawaii
done and decided we needed to do the Clyde King Story.
We asked for people to contribute and fretted over what to say.
We made mistakes...ohhh groan...and more.
So many that we were trying to correct if
anyone decided on a second printing.
Marge thought we hadn't given Clyde enough praise
for his accomplishments in life...how to do that?
We'll just add more information.
What do you want to say.
"Give facts about his selling, his making money."
In the meantime
She was to write her book. Me mine.
We needed to get her facts from the journal.
Get my facts down. FACTS!
We had such a great time deciding what to do.
How to get our own story told.
Marge was going to publish the facts in her story.
She copied a thousand letters. Her story was
told in letters, but where were the onces she wrote?
Oh. I had a few.
Now she is gone...well, I'll just turn her book
over to her kids, Cheryl, Raymond, Dan
Anyone she tried to hire to help,
and mine to my kids. What more can we ask?
Let us hope they get the facts straight!
Especially hers.

Long lost Great Aunt Mary Margaret and John

My Grandpa King's sister was never mentioned that I could remember.
How do you lose a family member?...in the old days, they changed their name.
This one above was my Great-Grandma King, her daughter Mary Margaret and Mary's son Mason with great great grand girls Lois and Laveta who were Mason and Lavorda's kids.
I just love writing down all these names that only cropped up in my life
when Caroll Lester, another great-grand, wrote us for a book on the Kings.
My head is swimming with getting re-acqainted with relatives I never met.
She wasn't even dead when I was born! What is wrong with my relatives??
I know travel wasn't easy and people were very poor (by our standards)
but they seemed to leave and never look back. If left, family didn't stay
connected. There were letters in those days!
I am very interested in finding out that Mary Margaret was married in Green River (Why Green River?), lived in Vernal..her husband also invested in the old Orpheous Theater that I posted earlier. She was the first white woman to live
in Bridge (Myeton) and Dragon, Utah. She ran a cafe, a hotel...they even build and sold a hotel in Rangely, Colorado, was in Creed, Colorado when Bob Ford (killer of Jesse James) was killed, and finally became a nurse. That woman worked! She could have used some help. Her husband worked the mines, hauled Gilsonite to Dragon, and moved to Oregon where he did both mining and worked in sawmills later on. They lived a long, hard life.
I just decided today to write about this relative. I would have liked to meet her too.

Life of Pi

I kept thinking I'd read this book, but seeing it at the library decided to check to see if I actually had as I knew people who loved it. I had not read it and was amazed at the story. I loved the fact that the main character was named after
the best swimming pool in his country, that he became a worshiper of Hinduism, Christianity, and Islam..all at the same time having certain days of the week for
each and worked out in his mind how each one was the religion for him, and was raised in a zoo. But could any of it prepare a sixteen year old boys to cross an ocean in a life boat with a Bengal Tiger? What a marvelous, riveting tale written by Yann Martel.
I recommend it to everyone, especially boys sixteen.

Andrew King and the Orpheus Theater

My great-uncle Andrew King was a major stockholder in the Orpheus Theater
in Vernal, Utah. (Shown above) The floor moved as people danced because
it was built in parts on these huge springs. People sat on chairs put on
solid flooring around the outside of the dance floor, but the floor itself
moved and danced with the people. Dancers came from all over to
try out the spring floor. They said women had to watch it because
gusts of air coming up cold lift their skirts. I guess the old
dancehall still exists as a historical monument in Vernal.
I was fascinated. I would like to dance on the 'spring' floor.
I wnder if Uncle Andrew loved to dance. His sister was in a theater
group that sometimes traveled to Salt Lake City to put on productions.
My grandfather, his brother, loved to recite poetry.
This is one of his favorites.

It was late in last November
I was walking down the stree
My heart was all aflutter
and I fell into a gutter.
A pig came up and lay down by my side.
As I lay there in the gutter
my heart still a-flutter
a lady passing by chanched to say:
You can tell the man that boozes
by the company that he chooses...
and the pig got up and slowly
walked away.

Why this one came to mind I cannot say!

Imagination Heaven

Gerry and Doc inspired my blog today and
as sit-down comics made me laugh.
So, as I look at the rubble in Japan
caused by the tsumani...
and worry about the radiation leaks
spilling from five reactors...
I will try to think of all those
hurricane victims in Imagination Heaven...
returning to their homes and well-ordered lives
for a bit before they fly like non-earth bound ninjas
or reach for an orchid or smell the fish cooking
(I get a kick out of that father that keeps wanting
to eat all the foods he remembered in China on
The Amazing Race.)
As Gerry visits all the great intellectuals
of the ages to see if she can hold her own, I
will check out what kind of lives their kids led.
I want to know how much profound thought filters down
and is valued through the ages.
Is it immediately important?
Is it immediately valued?
Where will I go?
Will my imagination propel me into mysteries I have
never known? Hardly understand?
Into mysteries of Science? Of Space? Of Time? Of Religion.
I just want to open up wide beyond imagining
Into fantasy, into reality, into beyond...
To go where I have never gone (I needed to steal that line.)
I am off to Imagination Heaven.
To be what I am.

Linda, does the tsumani fit your dream?

Linda said she dreamed of the water receding way out from San Francisco.
When I heard of Japan's 8.9 earthquake and the tsunami coming in waves along the coasts, I thought that this must be what your dream was.
I couldn't believe the terrible destruction with the one that rolled in
Japan, taking cars, houses and such in its path. It will leave a long dry
space when it rolls again out to sea...leaving bare watered ground.
An earthquake of that magnitude can cause such destruction.
One reporter on CNN tried to tell how bad it was, that he was still
shaking inside. They asked what he was doing to calm down.
He said, "Drinking gallons of tea...nothing works, actually."
They haven't begun to tally deaths.
When the earth moves, we all pay attention. How can one walk
on a shaking earth? So many lives can be lost.

Recovery

My operation is over.
My blood drain in place.
Just wanted to show you a bit of discomfort.
One can't have an operation...my thyroid was removed
without something to show for it...
except it's gone now.
Removed this very day.
And I am on the mend
looking forward to a new day.
I am waiting to hear the path report.
I am waiting to hear how the body works.
without a thyroid. I hear it works just fine.
If anyone's can, mine will.
It is used to working without parts.
I will expect it to do whatever's necessary.
I have to admire the way it keeps moving.
The way it keeps doing what needs to be done.
And keeps me going...
to enjoy life once again.

Shayna Performance SLCC Jazz Festival 2011

This is my grandchild Shayna Henrie singing Old New York.
I love it. I've learned how to move a video.
I'm so happy.

Operations

Although small, I love the Black-Eyed Susan.
I need something bright and cheerful to
send me to my next operation
removing nodels from my thyroid,
odd nodels that shouldn't be there.
I started out this operation road
with a hysterectomy, my problems were
like my sister who died of overian cancer.
I'm not sure I actually needed one.
Doctors told me I did.
Then I had sharp pains and I was
sent to emergency to have a gall bladder
removed...only to discover the entrance to
my pancreas didn't look right. I flew to Boston.
Was diagnosed with Ductal Mucinous Ectasia
and was operated to have some pancreas removed.
It was totally diseased. Where did that come from?
How do you pick up a fatal disease?
My pancreas and spleen were removed.
I become diabetic (no pancreas) and need
insulin shots and enzymes to digest food.
Everyone I talked to told me I couldn't live
without a pancreas...I am living.
Next they found a lump and it was a lumpectomy.
Cancer and I am given both chemo and radiation
although doctors felt the cancer was contained.
Chemo freezes. Radiation burns.
I know now what diabetics live through.
I know now what cancer patients,
my sister with ovarian cancer, lived through.
Finally released as a survivor,
high calcium on final blood tests and scans
found a lump on parathyroid.
It was removed. Now there are lumps
on the thyroid. Did one contribute
to the other? I don't know,
but feel that I'm not the healthiest
person around. Maybe lumps are forming
here and there and everywhere!
But these are small. They can be removed.
I can live some more years.
I am 72. I told my family after I hit
70, I was on the gravey train.
My cousin has 28 stents.
I can live without a few lumps.
Modern Medicine comes up with
another solution. My husband's
back is bad. Will the new bone,
Kryptonite, we saw last night on TV
help him? He needs some Superman
Power. I just need a super-flower
power.

Anasazi

ANASAZI
The Red Sun
Little black or red square men
One hundred hand prints
painted by those long ago
who also left mud and stone
storage houses or cliff dwellings
high on red cliffs.
Breath catches
at leaping goat hanging on cliffs
impossible to climb.
Were they painting for the Gods?
God of Wind. God of Water.
God of food that came only with seasons.
Children rush. Children climb.
To see paintings left behind.
Finding a black obsidian arrowhead
Down by Lampstand, laying on sand,
Black against red sand.
A perfectly spiked White , so delicate,
By the Monkey House under a Cedar tree.
In that exact spot to draw down eyes
On that very day feet carry close enough.
Curious. So curious about the makers
Of this perfection. People from long ago
That touch lives now.
The Anasazi. The mystery.
My breath catches.

This is my revised Anasazi poem to go in book for next Festival.
Dave suggested no I or Me. I like it. The pictures didn't come with
poem, so I used old one. I hope Cheryl gets the new version.

Old folks gone

My mother's special friends, Twila and Veda, have died only a month apart.
They were sister friends for life and one without the other was reason
to depart. Sid is a nephew that helped them both with chores and other work.
I talked to Twila about her mom about two weeks before she died and
she talked and talked, wanting to have her mom part of Boulder Women.
Veda always remember Aunt Vesta, the one her age...and Mother and Twila
were the same age, lifelong friends. Twila 98 and Veda 96. My mother died at 89.
Grace, another same-class friend is still alive at 99.
I am missing going to the funeral of Veda in Boulder...to see her kids
that I haven't visited lately .. Farlan and Twila. Maxiene died years ago in
an auto accident. Since I can't attend, I am thinking about them today.
Fae, my neice's husband's mom also died. They must travel through the snow
to Panaca for her buriel. She was a character..and loved the ball games where
she would curse the referee at the top of her lungs. Her son and wife sat in a
different spot. I used to take my grandaughter and go visit her dogs. Grandma Fae and those dogs were the ones to see.
I am reading about my Stringham relations that I never knew. Great-Grandpa Jeremiah and his brother Briant who stayed for years at Antelope Island. Briant
used to say he would love to have an acre of ground filled up with babies. He would roll and tumble with them all day long. That image caught me...what man says
something like that? They say he loved children and was never known to say even a cross word. (never spanked) Great legacy. I would have liked to have known him.

Pa and Ma by LaRae

I love this cartoon with the head of the big steer on top
being carried from Phoenix to Utah, with parents fighting
all the way...here my dad yelling at mom. Very authentic.
My sister Marge has been reading Dreams of my Father by President
Obama presenting his dad in the best possible way he could,
and wonder if we are doing right by ours. We did the Clyde King
Story, but she was thinking it was too negative and we didn't get
in the book all his accomplishments. He ran three ranches for many years,
kept his cattle herd growing, was an accomplished rancher and business man.
He had a sense of humor and said funny things. He was liked, but he also drank,
cursed and raved. We told of drinking episodes. We think of him as a
drunk, but he didn't drink all the time or he could have never made as much money as he did. The question is...were we fair? Did we tell the best of him? Did we tell all sides? What was the best of him? The worst? Why does this cartoon seem so true?
Dealing with people, we find them so many-sided. Everyone seems to have their worst side...we indulge food, drink, sex, drugs.. and are sometimes out of control. Another side of us becomes religious, educated, thoughtful, generous, and caring. So how to balance all that within one person? How do we show ourselves as balanced individuals? That is my wild cow on top of the truck that I brought up from canyons. My dad did cuss. My mother did cry. LaRae captured it. There is something about writing, about art, about imagination that captures the truth...and holds it dear.

"Let's Drive."

I drove to Boulder to work on my book with my neice and stopped to see the
two paintings at the new rest/information stop past the Escalante Cemetery
done by Lynn Griffin...which I found OUTSTANDING. These will certainly commerate the Hole-in-the-Rock story. The dedication of this spot is planned for Memorial Day at which time they'll do the Hole-in-the-Rock play, as well as other events.
Hey people, these paintings are worth the drive to see.
I am still working on my book about the Grand-Staircase Escalante National Monument. I was trying to finish it up so we could get some frist drafts done to check for errors. I also wanted a picture of the Circle Cliffs from the mountain.
I tried to add it here, but it is back on top. Oh dear. I wish I'd taken a picture of the Ponderosa Pine trees that have had their limbs snapped this winter. Limbs look like they'd been shot off by Old Man Winter and are laying in clumps at the bottom. What happened there?
My book is gradually coming together. It needs to be done. I changed the name to "Let's Drive" as it tours around and through the monument. I'm hoping that people will read and then say, "Hey family, let's go for a ride in the Grand-Staircase canyons."

My side

My family is in a 'blog fight' each putting out
their side to the family story for each other ---
and the world. My sister Gerry is writing her memoirs
and bringing out every family problem known to man as she
sees it in hers, and mine, and my sisters' lives.
She is currently trying to get the friend, who is all
our friend for years, off the family site for an affair
with our cousin, never discussed at least by her (the friend),
that supposedly happened years ago...or went on longer than we know.
I can only tell this friend right now that she'd better start
blogging and tell her side of the story...off the family site...
as we are not allowed there to discuss 'old fights',
if she feels she is getting unfair treatment. We can only
tell the world. She is 80+, still young enough to fight.
She did the 'right thing' and got her divorce, so she could
live the way she wanted. My cousin didn't.
Which comes to me. I had my 50th Anniversay this year.
My cousin will soon have his. We have been in this marriage thing
for years. I understand married wives...I lived with a truck
driver who was gone weeks at a time. Who knows what happens on the road?
I have been called door-mat, passive, non-fighter, too-sweet, and other
non-flattering terms, which are true by the way. You can't live with
a man 50 years and not be walked on at times...although you try to walk on too.
My truckdriver is not rich. My cousin is. Both are charming.
I don't step and neither did my cousin's wife. We are ANGELS.
That gives us power of a different kind. What exactly, I can't say.
I just want the world to know that I am ready to defend
all wives of stepping men. That is my side. It's not easy
to be the loving wife and snarling might happen (Or pouting,
bawling, sneering, sniffing, and sheer boredom.), but it comes with
the territory.
We are the Water Lillies!

Family

Like the profusion of Asters,
the family grows and expands from
one generation to the next
profuse in it's beauty.
I find endless fascination in both
directions. for example Jane died at
age 31. How? Did she have a child?
Did she marry the man that married
her parents, or his son? Why is she
so completely lost? She was my Dad's
Dad's sister.
My dad's family gathered on
Grandpa's ranch. They left, stayed,
and died. What was of most value?
What do my children actually think?
What am I missing? What are their goals?
What would they love most from me?
I raised them and they left and check in
sometimes. They live such different and
separate lives, each on their own.
And now I have grandchildren and find each one
endelessly fascinating, as I will great-grands.
We hit and miss on their very busy lives.
We enjoy. We laugh. We go.
Our turn to go into a past generation
creeps upon us...and we remember the
deaths and difficulties of those
who went before us.
I feel the urge to gather, like the Asters,
and keep the family bouquet
together in a bunch.
If only they didn't have to put down
their own roots to grow.

Sopher's first novel

I want to recommend this novel to readers everywhere.
It is the story of her wealthy Jewish family living in Tehran,
her father being wrongly arrested and his imprisonment, and the family's
eventual escape into Turkey. The world as they knew it collapsed.
Her brother was previously sent to America for safety.
Dalia was only nine/ten when all this took place
and her book is about that difficult time. She tells
about her family's actual escape at the end of the novel.
In this novel, she explored the conflicts for each family member
as they tried to stay alive, cope, and discovered their actual
relationshp with those they hired, the revolutionaries, and
others being taken to prison, tortured, and killed.
They were saved by the father's wealth. This is a remarkable
first novel. This is a remarkable novel about those who live
through upheavals in government control...
I am aware of the wars in Iran and Afganistan, the crowds of people protesting in Egypt, in Sudan, in so many countries today. I think about people
protesting because they are starving, needing to have a better
life and feel 'walled' in American easy living and too much complacentcy.
I wonder just how to care about so many in the world needing food and
medical attention. I need to know more, understand better.
I am touched by Dalia Soper's story. I recommend it.

Tribute to Modern Medicine

I'm very glad for modern medicine for keeping my grand-daughter alive!
She is only 12 (13 this month) and has had a very rough time in the last months with pain in her stomach. After tests of all kinds, they determined the gall bladder wasn't working and operated only to find the appendix eight inches long and very, very swollen - doctors were surprised it hadn't burst. No one suspected
this was the problem in one so young...and with some history of problems since birth.
Of course, we need to wait and see how she recovers, but I think her life has been saved. And I am grateful. This is my girl Logan who,I feel, has a lifetime of
giving to do. She wants to be a nurse for newborns. She is remarkably kind. Her future is as bright as her red hair! I love her much.

Jack Hayley's WOLF

I just finished reading Wolf. As a biographer, I must first applaud Jack Hayley in his well-written and very revealing story of Jack London. It is so well done. I know, after reading this book, there are other books I have not read that I need to read written by Jack London. I was certainly 'caught' by the actual life and the books written by Jack and his very complex interest in MEN as well as the women he knew. Hayley writes about an attraction of men to men that few writers talk about...not that gays are simply born gay, but there is a while world out there
when men are with men as in war, on ships, seeking fortune or adventure, where there are sexual activities, forced or not. (We know about prison.) Jack goes out to sea when only seventeen with men wanting favors. He goes to Alaska where thousands of men are. He finds companionship with others wanting companionshp, yet none would say they are homosexual. They don't claim bi-sexuality either. They were all married men and still associated. They went off in groups to get drunk. This is the culture that isn't often talked about. And it makes one wonder just how far-spread it actually is..are men more free sexually than women? Oprah recently had 200molested men on her show. 1 in 6 men molested. 1 in 4 women. We have a lot of molested children in this world. Jack often shows his anger, savageness with his drinking, yet he is a thinking careful man in his prose. He maintained when sober his love of women.
My sister Gerry has long proclaimed my dad bi-sexual. He didn't marry until 26 and spent long years in drinking with other drinking men. He spent time gathering cattle, other times as a group on the mountain. This is the first book I have read that makes a possible split very clear. I can see how this kind of split could be maintained for years, especially with a certain party. Fascinating study. Jack Hayley discussed a difficult problem with care.

Monument Book

These photos by Michael Fatali were in the St. George Magazine today.
They caught my breath. He works with light and rock. It's hard
to believe these scenes are actually out there, part of nature.
They look painted by brush, by imagination.
So many wonders are out there to be discovered.

I am changing the name of my book I've called
Grand-staircase Escalante National Monument is Home
and Walking in Sand. Walking in Sand doesn't
include all the history, the people, the stories,
the beauty, the canyons, the light, the shadow
surrounding the GSENM. Maybe that's it's name
GSENM. (God Sent Everyone Nature's Miracles)
People have sent suggestions. That's fun.
I am trying to discover just the right name.
These pictures remind me again what can be found.

The Old Folk

Aunt Nethella (above) wrote up the
history of Vern Lyman...where
I got all these pages on the
Lymans, I'll never know.
I have been running it off for
Rolain's family and retyping
unreadable script. They probably
have it already, but I couldn't seem
to throw it all away. Tom's great
aunt Rosanna Lyman was the mother
to all those Lymans in Boulder.
My great-aunt Ellen King was
also a mother to Lymans.
I ran into three Amasa Lymans
but none Aunt Ellen's husband
belonged too...he came from yet
another Amasa Lyman.
How did those Lymans keep these
Amasa's straight? There are
generations of Amasa Lymans
and wives of the same Amasa who
had Amasa Lymans...couldn't anyone
think of another name?
All I could think of was the Amasa Lyman
who built a coffin for his wife may
while she hand-covered twenty-five
white satin buttons to go on the
white satin burial dress
she made herself AND
lined the pine coffin.
but, the Lymans are here
for Rolain to give to her
Lyman kids and grandkids.

The Human Spirit

I have been touched by the recent deaths
of children. In Austrailia a young boy
wanted his younger brother saved from the
flood, and didn't live until rescuers returned.
The 9-year-old shot in Tucson, the older man
who jumped in front of his wife, and all the
rescuers who are out there in floods,
in snow in the Northeast, in earthquakes,
in mudslides...all those who rush to help
the best they can.
I marvel at the human spirit,
that torch in so many that reaches
out to another, does the hard work
in helping out animals or people
and keeps doing it for years.
Today I am applauding all those efforts.
There is a greatness in the common man
that we don't say enough about.
There is a joy in reaching out
and pulling others along.
Attention needs to focas on that part
that is our best.
This head of my aunt,who lived a long life,
sculpted by my sister shows the
creative energy of both
and represents today for me,
endurance of the human spirit
and that joy of service
that makes us great.

Snuggie Bunnies

It was -13 in Panguitch last night
and I thought of all of those
snuggies out there keeping people,
especially my grandkids warm.
And the blankets and the quilts.
But -13 is enough to make one
dive for the covers.
and remember fun times
and comfort when warmth
is arms.

Willow Canyon

Aren't these amazing photos by Tyler Knudson
that were published in the Spectrum?
This is Bull Valley Gorge also known as Willow Canyon.
The truck can be seen from the bottom.
These are recent pictures. I am so impressed.
That's the wonder of The Grand-Staircase Escalante
Monument...there are so many wonders to see.
This is only one.

Be Alert

(Picture borrowed from a Sierra Club postcard.
I love this picture of a fuzzy alert bear.)

Be alert
for computer changes that tax our brain
or steal our ideninity
for items we have lived with all our lives
that no longer exist
for becoming hopelessly out of date
for war we don't understand
and have no idea how to fight
for those struggling to live
without technology

Be alert
for those lines of communication
that reach out across the social network
and connect us to those we love

Be alert
for those that would tear us apart
in their savage love for their own god
who does not believe in commpassion
but only death to the unbeliever

Be alert
to preserve our animals, our water, our planet
in order for those coming after us can
live, eat, and love

Be alert
Be alert

2011

This year my grandchildren will all be
someplace else. I won't be able to run
down the street to visit, nor will they
be able to run to my house.
One of my grandmother's died when I was nine,
the one that lived in my hometown,
the one that I ran down over the hill to see,
the one that made cookies, hot bread, and jam.
She was there when I was young.
The other lived away 'up north'.
I was thirty-five when she passed away.
I always looked forward to seeing her
although she seemed sick most of the time.
When I went to the U, I helped her clean house.
She and Grandpa visited us in Boulder when
I was growing up. I like seeing her smile
and come in the door. She had long, flowing hair.
Now my grandkids come and go. I love
seeing them. They tell me about their interests,
their friends, their sports, their fun.
They visit and head for home.
I am content that is the way
things should be...I grow older and
they grow up! May their grandkids come
and add joy to their lives as they
grow old... and older.
May the circle continue
and we all love the 'other' generation.