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.