Today's local news

Dale White is here with his stump grinder, removing my tree stump. $50. The chips are flying, and I mean it. Dale had to tell his helper(?) Randy to move from where he was standing. I had tried to get Randy's attention and tell him to move, but he couldn't hear me. Anyway, he had already been hit several times, twice in the face. You would think he'd know to move.

I wonder what my lawn will look like covered with tree stump chips. Oh well, I think I know.

Rudy brought these guys over this morning. I just have to say it. Neither one looks savory, if you know what I mean. But I had a nice chat with Dale, obviously a veteran of some war, perhaps Iraq, because the VA is looking after his infected foot. 

Infected foot? you ask. Yes, he cut off a toe with his chain saw. And, yes, I still hired him. Actually, what I said was, "Ok, you've got a deal, Dale."

And I have to say this: Where is my husband when I need him? I know. That question is so unfair. It's just that I miss him anyway.

P.S. I have just paid Dale. He brought up Randy, who I am guessing is not as bright as, let's say, as Dale. He mentioned having to tell him to move when the chips were flying. "I mean," said Dale, "what does it take? Chip takes his eye out and he'd be mad at me."

Of bellies

My mother used to say, "Better a poor girl's belly burst than a bit of good food go to waste." However, I cannot always live up to that. Like today.

I make good chili, of course, but even so, I don't want to eat it for days. There's not much of anything I want to eat for days. You know what I mean.

So today I determined to have chili for lunch and chili for dinner. Then I wouldn't have to have it tomorrow or the next day.

It was difficult, actually impossible, and I simply could not eat two bowls of chili, even 3 1/2 hours apart. Not that there was anything wrong with it, just that I thought my belly might burst.

So I quit eating and had to throw out about half a bowl of the stuff. It gave me pause. I thought of my mother. I thought of people who don't have enough to eat. I am pretty sure that someone, somewhere would have been grateful for that chili. Too late.

Sorry, Mama.

I guess it's a generational thing

Just back from delivering Peter's birthday present. He's not home, only his dad is there. Here is part of our conversation.

Peter's dad (hereafter known as Paul or P): Should I hide this?
Me: Why?
P: He'll want to open it.
Me: He can't open it until his birthday. And that's the word with the bark on it.
P: What?
Me: That's the word with the bark on it.
P: What's that?
Me: Haven't you ever heard that?
P: No.
Me: (Incredulous) My mom and dad said it often. Did I never say that when you were growing up?
P: I don't think so. What does it mean?

I told Paul what it means. But I'll leave it to you to figure out. Shouldn't be too difficult. I wonder if you have heard it. I didn't make it up.

Another Chronicle of sorts

Yesterday I drove out to see my friend. She was not home. I visited with her son who is living there, met his wife and two little boys. 

My friend and her husband and the family of another of their sons--they have six sons, one daughter--have gone camping, up to Red Fish Lake, a place they have loved forever. They used to live up there every summer when he (my friend's husband) worked for the Forest Service.

This son, next to the youngest, works for Verizon, which is not particularly relevant but is part of the small talk we engaged in between the hard parts of the conversation. Like when I asked about his mom. "She's all right," he said, with that tone and look we have when we know all right is not very good, not good enough. 

I told him that she seemed to know me last visit, that she asked about Paul, which I took as a very good sign. He said she's worse now. Probably wouldn't know me now.

It's only been a month or so.

We chatted, I cried, he said he feels bad for his dad. I didn't say it, but I feel bad for her and all she has lost. I left, told him to tell her I came, whether or not she will know who Carol might be.

Growing Up

Elder Sylvester. That's Dwain La Vell Sylvester, from Pintura, Utah. He was Wayne's traveling companion coming home from Uruguay. He made an enduring impression on Wayne, and I heard a few things about him, among them his "skill" with the Spanish language. Like, "Sí, y los arbols."

Of course, it should have been ârboles. 

This is actually a direct quote, and it was typical of how Elder Sylvester did not quite "get" Spanish. (I probably wondered if he "got" English.) 

But now, especially, I believe he was a humble, unpretentious guy, and I'm guessing he was ready and receptive to the Holy Ghost, because the people overlooked his Spanish and seemed to love him. That's what Wayne remembered.

I met him once. Tall, thin, dark hair, friendly, a simple farm boy and hard not to like.

Perhaps I harbored some kind of judgment of him based on his language skills. Perhaps I thought he was not "as good a person" as I or as Wayne, not as smart. 

And that's what I was thinking of this morning, wondering if we are harsher and harder on people when we're young and as we grow up and grow older, we are kinder, more able to see their strengths and our own failings. Or, even better, we stop comparing and really accept people. Period. 

I'd like to think so.

A brief book report, even so

Finished Winter Count by Barry Lopez, written in the early 1970s. Very short book. 

I have found it to be a bit pretentious, the language often self-conscious, some words too carefully selected. For effect. Do we all do that? No. I don't think so. But he was young then. I think we may do that kind of writing when we're young, trying to impress instead of simply saying something.

But some things in it I like. For instance, "As a stone waits millennia to trip a certain horse on a well-worn path . . . " is a phrase I liked and liked contemplating.

Something more on the soul

It's Sunday, and I'm contemplating the scripture below. I bolded the part that struck me forcefully, probably because I have recently written about the soul. But the first part is vital to me also, I want to understand the meaning of the entire verse, actually.

So. To seek the face of the Lord always--as Chad said, we want to see the Lord's face again, and we will, if we come to live in the Celestial Kingdom. We will see him and recognize him, and that will be so joyous. Therefore, to seek his face always is to make certain that everything we do on this earth points us and leads us to him. That is eternal life, by the way, to be with him again.

To possess your soul. Here, I see the word "soul" used to represent the person in wholeness, being all that we ought to be and want to be. To wait with patience upon the Lord and trust in his will--easy to say. 

Not to give away my soul for anything, and there are many things in this life, this world, that could steal my soul from me. I wish words did not fail me, but they do. All of this is grander and more important as it swirls around in my head than I can ever express in words.

Doctrine and Covenants 101:38 And seek the face of the Lord always, that in patience ye may possess your souls, and ye shall have eternal life.