Tuesday, April 25, 2006

About eighteen years and one month ago I entered this straaaange institution to prepare myself for what I hoped would be an adventure of service to my God.
What an interesting chapter that two years was. I do hope I did something good for someone.
Just driving past the MTC at this time of year brings a cavalcade of mixed emotions to the surface.


The Emtpy Sea.
So, here I am in a corporate coffee/bookshop in a place that has exponentially more money and opportunity for material gain and forward momentum than where I live with my family, yet many would consider this "flyover land".
For many in our country, and quite a few that I have known, where I am now is a backwater. Utah, no matter where you might mention, is a place that very few would look as worth even a little bit of attention.
Consider this:I am looking at a range of mountains that I have long admired and enjoyed looking at, a range complete with foothills, an aging range to the fore and a new and craggy mountainscape to the aft.
I am able to see foothills which are blossoming with new growth and in the older, softer mountains there are aspens coming to life with green. The rocky peaks far above are partially covered with clouds and still heavy with snow. Here in the valley, there are flowers and fruit trees blooming amidst all of the traffic and people gabbing and smoking and talking on their cell phones; and I see no one paying the least bit of attention to the real drama going on around them. The drama that holds them rapt is the pursuit of little power and whatever money that power they can accumulate will get them.
Are there some that aren't thinking on these things that I so flippantly accuse them fixating on? I'm sure there are (and bless them all), but that is not the point; generalizations work amazingly well at the level that they are meant to operate. That level is one where questions are put to the greater whole, and the observations are that which one's perception would answer back. Therefore, This is where I come from, this wee space within my own mind, one man from a very small town in a small state who works with those whom many have given up on. What would you expect from such?
Just this, no doubt.

Monday, April 17, 2006



Jesse made a tank out of the box I brought the swings home for Easter the other day. Give the boy a Knife and some odd cast-off items and he'll make at least a few days out of it.

That just about describes the last three months for me.
Yippee!

Sunday, April 16, 2006

The kids had a splendid Easter this year. It started out almost as exciting as one we had a couple of years ago in Flagstaff, but it became a pretty good object lesson on patience and persistance.
We went up to a reception in Spanish Fork yestereve, and isodoing failed to get any egg dying done for the morning's activities. Everything was late, late, late. We hadn't any family to hang out with, but we got things going eventually and spent a good part of the day hunting eggs and chatting with a dear family here in town who, like us, have very few people of like interests to hang with.
The best of Easters and am energetic renewal of spring to all.


Asher-boy and some loot... He sure has changed in a year...

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Sunday, April 9, 2006

We headed on a 'splore yesterday, Ryan and I, looking for a few lakes fabled to hold fish riches untold for the hardy hiker and early-springtime adventurer.
We drank in vistas like this one and caught enough fish to make us happy beyond our expectations, so what more is there to ask for with gratitude in one's heart?

Saturday, April 8, 2006

Another great poet has shuffled off of this mortal coil, Leslie Norris died late Thurday of a cerebral hemorrage.
This is no long conveyor belt we're all riding, afterall. Live well while you can, friends.