Killer Whales: A New Perspective for Sea World

            I remember listening to a ranger who loved and respected bears and did not care for zoos.  As a child, I thought zoos were wonderful.  Seeing pictures of bears is not the same as seeing a real live bear.  Many don't have the means to travel and search for bears in their natural habitat - and even then - watching through binoculars is still not the same as being close - though having an animal remain behind bars seems cruel.

            A zoo can never provide the same amount of space for each animal as each animal is given in the wild.  The animals don't have to share inversion with humans as they do in the city - where their space is very limited.  Animals in captivity don't necessarily live longer than animals in the wild.  Perhaps the contrary.  There will always be two sets of answers.  That doesn't make them accurate.

            I have never been Seaworld in Florida.  I don't know if I'd ever gone to the one in California.  I'm thinking not.  I actually don't think I was ever given opportunity. My answer just last week may have been for going, but I know that if I was given the opportunity right now, I'd have to decline.  Roland and I have recently watched a documentary called Blackfish (trailer found here) and it's made me rethink a lot about animals who are in captivity and how the focus on "bringing in money" often has a higher cost than we can imagine.  In this case, to the killer whales trapped in a space too small for growth, a trainer named  Dawn Brancheau, and marketing "cover-ups".  This documentary was a real eye opener.

            The emotions of animals are real.  Just because humans are not able to communicate with animals on the same level as we do with one another does not mean feelings don't exist.  Animals are capable of loving and grieving.  And just like us, they need room to grow.  It is wrong to take an animal out of the ocean and put it in a much smaller container - no matter how large the container, it will never be as large as the ocean.

            Animals are beautiful creatures.  Like us, they need a place to grow.

Scrambled Weekend

            Yesterday felt like a Saturday.  Jenna was off because of parent teacher conference – which evidently was by invitation only.  I hadn’t been contacted – which they say is a good thing – but they said I could make a last minute appointment if they had the room.

            So our appointment was for 7:50.  I dragged Roland to get a feel of what was needed for her math assignments and to assist with anything else.  He has worked a lot of parent-teacher conferences.  A LOT!  I remember many a years attempting to visit with the boys’ teachers all by myself.  Once it was 21 teachers for all three boys together.  I also had the challenge of maneuvering Jenna in her stroller when the boys were in high school.

            Parent-Teacher conferences are done differently in Myrtle Creek than in Salt Lake.  Appointments in Salt Lake were made for elementary school, but not junior high and high school.  At Coffenbury (the middle school where Jenna attends) appoinments are made to meet with all instructors at once – though I’ve actually never met with all seven of them at one time.  Yesterday there were only four, but our concerns were met.  We had left Jenna at home.

            Yesterday felt like a Saturday overall.  We had gone to  big city of Roseburg to do some shopping.  Jenna had some specific things that she wanted to get in order to make a science project (something she has been doing since kindergarten – even when there was no assignment) and we decided to get some groceries while we were in town. 

            Roland was off because he is working today.  Once a month he has to work a Saturday and is usually off the proceeding Friday – but we’ve made acceptions for other days before he went on his remote assignment.  Before we moved to Oregon.

            In Utah, he would work from 7 – 4.  He still does those hours – still on mountain time.  But as we're now on Pacific time,  he is really working from 6 – 3.  It is nice having him get off at three.  Except for Thursdays.  On Thursdays he works from 10 – 7.

            As Roland is at work at Jenna is home, and I’m forcing her to help me do laundry, it still feels like a weekday instead of a Saturday.  I don’t know where my mind will be focused on tomorrow.

            We won’t have our regular church meetings tomorrow.  There will be a live broadcast from Salt Lake to be viewed by the western region (or so is my understanding) and so we’ll be returning to the big city of Roseburg.  

            Monday’s a holiday.  Both Roland and Jenna are off.  I’m guessing we’ll end up in Roseburg again.  Roland has been wanting to go to the movies for the last two months.  We had actually made plans for a date for yesterday afternoon.  That was before we realized that Jenna would not be going to school.  We did have breakfast together yesterday morning.  But I know he still wants to go to the movie.  Perhaps we’ll make a trip out to Grants Pass or Medford.  We’ll have to see.

            Four day weekend for Jenna.  Seems like her four day weekends always fall on the Saturdays when Roland is scheduled to work.  Weird.  

4:30 temperature is Perfect

This month started out with the pattern of sunshine, sunshine, overcast, rain, sunshine, sunshine, overcast, rain.  I thought it might continue, but the last few days have been rather warm. Well, compared to Februarys’ past.

It’s crazy that I would wish the air conditioners were up.  Never would I have ever considered turning on the A/C in February while living in Utah.  There is still snow on the ground and I generally don’t want take walks outside.  But I am fine being outdoors in Oregon. 

75 degrees really is not that hot.  But 69 is perfect.  I like being outdoors when it’s between 68 and 72.  Anything above 72 seems too warm to me.  And the inside temperature is always hotter than the outside.

Roland had turned the heat down in the bedroom.  He’s unable to turn his own heat down, however.  And he likes to cuddle.  Snuggling with his is like being smothered by a humongous hot water bottle.  I left the bed and went into the living room and opened the door that leads to the garage.  I fell asleep comfortably.

At the Roland’s request, I have started packing up boxes.  One of the boxes I packed contains shorts.  I’m finding the denim is too warm on my legs and may be returning to the garage to reclaim my packed shorts.  But then it will probably rain for sure.

I really do like the weather in Oregon.

Pioneer Trek - Then and Now

            BYU had sponsored a bunch of youth activities over the years.  I remember staying at the dorms one time when our stake had gone for an activity for four or five days.  We’d have workshops and activities to do each day.  I remember having had enjoyed myself. 

            I don’t recall the year that I was introduced to pioneer trek.  I was looking for some history online, but thus far all I’ve come across is this article that barely mentions BYU’s involvement in the 1970s.

            Our stake and at least one other would be making the trek together.  We were divided into groups.  There were three in my group that I knew from my stake.  Everybody else was from the other stake located in another county and thus I had never met them before.

            The two that led the group were referred to as “Ma” and “Pa” – in actuality both students at BYU who themselves may not have had any contact with one another except through trek.  I don’t know if there experience in being there was part of their grade or part of their major or what. 

            Each group was supposed to pick a name.  Our group was known as “the Kettles” although I think it was changed to “F-Troop” after the first or second day.  Someone in the group had mentioned that most of the “families” or groups had “cool names” and Kettles sounded so lame.  I don’t think I cared one way or the other.

            We weren’t supposed to bring anything modern with us – except for maybe our sleeping bags and footwear.  We were told we could take two pairs of shoes – one to walk/hike in and a pair to change into for when we made camp. I don’t even know if sunglasses were allowed.

 We were told that we could bring cameras so that we could record our memories.  Our outdoor experience was to be as authenticated as possible – which meant using leaves and not toilet paper when Mother Nature called.

            Now mind you, this was in the day before digital and disposable cameras.  Film had to be loaded into the camera.  My brother and I knew of youth who’s taken cameras loaded with toilet paper – although I can’t imagine it would have been enough.  Pioneers did not have that option. 

            Our group had killed a snake on the trail.  One of my “sisters” held the snake and squeezed out a mouse that hadn’t been in their long enough to be digested.  That night each group was told to make a simple stew.  We were the only group to add meat (the snake) to our stew. 

            I don’t recall how many handcarts we had in our company.  I know we started out as the second wagon.  We had started that way but ended up second to last as our one of our wheels kept falling off.  (I think it may have been an authentic handcart) The last handcart in the company had the sturdiest cart and were assigned to be the last cart in the company in order to make certain all participants were ahead and no one got left behind – otherwise we would have been left behind – or cartless – which would have slowed us down even more.  Often by the time we arrived to the designated campsite, everyone else had eaten or set up or played games or whatever, and we – along with the family with the assigned last cart – felt forgotten.  At least I did.

            When I write about it now, it sounds like I had a horrible experience – which I really didn’t.  My skin cleared up.  I learned to love my family members.  I probably gained a better appreciation for the pioneers.  There were positive things although I remember thinking I would probably not go again if given the opportunity.  I was actually never given another opportunity.

            My three boys were given an opportunity about ten years ago.  All three enjoyed the experience.  There was some rave.  Our middle son Tony asked if he could go with Jenna when it came her time to go.  I smile at the thought of his desire, but I had no clue where he’d be when/if her time would come.  Like I would have the authority to send him with her.  I never dreamed her opportunity would come after we moved to another state.

            From my understanding, the Roseburg stake offers this activity every four years.  She’s not happy that we are sending her.  Hopefully in four years she will WANT to go rather than be forced.

            Jenna is in primary but will be turning twelve in less than two months.  She will be continuing with her primary class but will go in with young women’s instead of singing time and primary closing exercises.

            This morning we took Jenna the big city of Roseburg for the first “Pioneer Trek” meeting.  She couldn’t understand why she was there.  Her photos showed confusion and less than thrilled to be there.  

            I think her biggest hang-up about going is having to wear a long dress – or just a dress for that matter.  Jenna HATES wearing dresses!  She does enjoy the stick pull however.  Glad something could make her smile.

            I’m happy to hear that the youth will be offered porta-pottys – though not conducive to authentic pioneering, does seem more hygienic than the “leaves-in-the-bush-thing” that I had the joy of dealing with

            There do seem to be more conveniences offered to youth now.  First aid stand-by (which was also available to us) and modern conveniences for times of emergency that weren’t offered to the youth when I went (such as the cell phone given to specific leaders who would use them in an emergency situation)

            Situations have changed.  “Ma” and “Pa” are now married couples from the stake – who still have to go through at least one year of training (or so it seems) and the invention of the women’s pull (which they may or may not do – but have done before) which was not a part of the pioneer trek I had gone on – or even church history for that matter.

            As I mentioned in this post the Mormon Battalion was recruited in 1846 when the company first came out in wagons.  Handcarts weren’t used until ten years later.  There was no women’s pull.  But all of the feedback I have read or heard has been positive.  I guess that’s why they keep it.  I just think the youth and leaders really ought to know that not all the reenactments really are not  “reenactments” but “what ifs”

            I’ll hopefully have a better post sometime in July.  And hopefully I’ll have more and better pictures.

Jumping the Gun

    “Jumping the Gun” is a phrase I’ve used before – and although I knew what it meant, I didn’t understand its origin – so why on earth would I use a phrase that I myself didn’t understand?

    I looked it up online and came across an explanation of foot racing (though I suppose it could find to any other kind as well) in which a gun was fired to start the race.  The runner who was “jumping the gun” was the runner who took off (or attempted to) before the gun was fired.  Thus “jumping the gun” is acting before the proper time.

   

    We have been house hunting since before Christmas.  Our initial offer made on a house (here in Oregon) was made on December 1.  But we couldn’t get the kind of loan that we had planned for, and so we had to withdraw. 

    Meanwhile, we still owned a house in Utah but have signed that over to our youngest son.  He and his wife have signed the papers.  We have signed the papers.  We’re just waiting for it to record.  It was supposed to record January 29.  

    Our youngest son called us to complain that the house hadn’t been put in his name.  What does he want us to do about it?  We can’t get the other loan that would work for us as long as we own property with the same kind of loan.  And the closing DRAGS ON.

    Our offer was accepted after a painful wait (paper work resigned, countering to another offer) – same house as before.  And we have been approved for a loan – almost twice the amount as what we need.  We’ve been approved.  We don’t actually HAVE the loan.  I don’t know how long the waiting process is here in Oregon, but in my experience with Utah – closings seldom ever happen on first specified closing date – sometimes not even on the third try.  I hope things run more smoothly for us in Oregon.

    Roland told me to start packing, which in my opinion, is jumping the gun.  We don’t know what red flags (another phrase with this possible lengthy story) the creditor is going to find.  Our WV house not recording would definitely be a red flag.  And believe you me, if there’s something to find (and even when there isn’t) they will find.

    When we left Utah, all the boxes I had packed were sealed shut, to be put on a truck for a 13 hour drive.  I don't have to shut boxes for the move here.  Just fold them shut - if I choose to fold them at all.  Roland wants everything taken in the car - everything that will fit anyway, and he will rent a truck for the furniture that obviously isn't going to fit.  Thus we'll have to make several trips between houses.  It will take longer to load and offload than the drive itself.  Hopefully our loan will go through and there won't be any bumps.  I would love to experience a smooth ride.

Jumping the Gun

    “Jumping the Gun” is a phrase I’ve used before – and although I knew what it meant, I didn’t understand its origin – so why on earth would I use a phrase that I myself didn’t understand?

    I looked it up online and came across an explanation of foot racing (though I suppose it could find to any other kind as well) in which a gun was fired to start the race.  The runner who was “jumping the gun” was the runner who took off (or attempted to) before the gun was fired.  Thus “jumping the gun” is acting before the proper time.

   

    We have been house hunting since before Christmas.  Our initial offer made on a house (here in Oregon) was made on December 1.  But we couldn’t get the kind of loan that we had planned for, and so we had to withdraw. 

    Meanwhile, we still owned a house in Utah but have signed that over to our youngest son.  He and his wife have signed the papers.  We have signed the papers.  We’re just waiting for it to record.  It was supposed to record January 29.  

    Our youngest son called us to complain that the house hadn’t been put in his name.  What does he want us to do about it?  We can’t get the other loan that would work for us as long as we own property with the same kind of loan.  And the closing DRAGS ON.

    Our offer was accepted after a painful wait (paper work resigned, countering to another offer) – same house as before.  And we have been approved for a loan – almost twice the amount as what we need.  We’ve been approved.  We don’t actually HAVE the loan.  I don’t know how long the waiting process is here in Oregon, but in my experience with Utah – closings seldom ever happen on first specified closing date – sometimes not even on the third try.  I hope things run more smoothly for us in Oregon.

    Roland told me to start packing, which in my opinion, is jumping the gun.  We don’t know what red flags (another phrase with this possible lengthy story) the creditor is going to find.  Our WV house not recording would definitely be a red flag.  And believe you me, if there’s something to find (and even when there isn’t) they will find.

    When we left Utah, all the boxes I had packed were sealed shut, to be put on a truck for a 13 hour drive.  I don't have to shut boxes for the move here.  Just fold them shut - if I choose to fold them at all.  Roland wants everything taken in the car - everything that will fit anyway, and he will rent a truck for the furniture that obviously isn't going to fit.  Thus we'll have to make several trips between houses.  It will take longer to load and offload than the drive itself.  Hopefully our loan will go through and there won't be any bumps.  I would love to experience a smooth ride.

Let the Hunt Begin!

         Khonie uses ideas and outlines from Printerest and Sugardoodle.  She presents them in such an awesome way that we all learn.  The theme for primary this year is "I know the Scriptures are True"

With our latest sharing time, the children were introduced to a treasure map

and were given bags

Khonie made several bags and will be making more
 (as our primary has gotten bigge)

to fill with charts,

reading material

and a "message in a bottle"  

which included directions for parents and child to help their children, and the first reading chart

(Jenna ended up with 2nd Nephi - I think because her class may have already read 1st Nephi before this "treasure hunt" sharing time was introduced.

         In the future we will be given clues that will help us find the treasure. 

         I don't if there will be one treasure box for each child or a joint treasure box. 

         I understand each jewel will have a letter on it, and at the end of the year, the children can take their jewels and arrange them to make a puzzle - (or scramble/rearrange the letters) another clue?  or perhaps the treasure (answer) itself.

          Either way, Jenna will start YW in April and will not be participating in the primary sharing time.  But perhaps I can still participate in her behalf. She is reading and will continue with her primary class.

         How great it is to have a world full of creative minds.  How awesome it is that modern technology allows others to share and continues.  Thank you to all of those who have contributed to so many of our activities.  You're awesome! 

Breakfast

This morning I made a bacon and cheese pie - which I haven't had for decades.  You can find the recipe at this site It is the first time either Roland or Jenna had it.  

Roland wolfed his down.  Jenna, as usual, didn't care for it.  

When my mom made it, it somehow tasted more delicious. 

Next time I make it, I'll be doing at least 2 1/2 cups of cheese.  One cup get's lost.  My mind knew it was in there, but my mouth didn't.

Going to Tri-City

            There are at least three kinds of loans offered to those who qualify to purchase a house.  The VA loan is offered to veterans.  The government will loan 100% of the funds needed for the house.  The house has to be up to code to meet all the approval of the inspector.  They are very strict.

            An FHA will pay up to 96½%.  It is up to the buyer to come up with the remaining 3½%.  The house has to be up to code and meet the approval of the inspector.  They are not as strict as VA.

            A conventional loan will pay up to 80% and the buyer has to come up with the remaining 20%.  Cash is also an option to those who actually have it. 

            The couple that purchased my mom’s house had been looking for a house with established and wholesome owner history.  How fortunate they were to be able to get into a house that had only one order.  How great for them that they were able to have that option.  I have not been as fortunate in my house hunting.  It seems with each house our options have lessened. 

            Yesterday, I had actually started a post about the last couple of houses we saw – specifically the one that Roland was determined to get.  I never finished the post. It doesn’t seem pertinent anymore.  At least not the way it was written.

              Before we moved to Oregon, I had decided that I wanted to live in one area for at least a year before settling on an area we would finally call home.  Our initial plan was to drive to locations between I5 and Highway 1 to get a feel of the land and decide where it was we wanted to live.

              After we moved in, Roland and I were both so exhausted that we didn’t ever want to move again.  But as we are only renting, it does seem apparent that we will need to move someday, though perhaps sooner than we had anticipated.

      

              We spent two weekends exploring.  We first went to Coos Bay and then to Eugene.  We did not look at houses.  We toured.  It’s just as well.  In the seven months that we’ve been here, I’ve ruled out living directly on the coast or living in Lane County.  I’ve been leaning toward Polk – though we’ve actually never looked beyond Douglas County for housing – at least physically. 

I have found houses in Polk that I thought might work for us – but we have not made a physical trip to Polk – perhaps through Polk the two times we’d gone to McMinnville.  I even found a house in Salem that will be going to Auction in less than two weeks.  My cousin said it’s in a good neighborhood, but we haven’t gone.  I think we’re meant to stay in Douglas County.  But in which city? 

              Before we had come to Oregon, we had known our monthly payment on the house would be more than our monthly payment in Salt Lake.  We had figured that into expenses.  We had not planned on the outrageous water bill – more than three times the amount of what we’d paid in Salt Lake.  Our expenses overall are more than we had planned and we need to either come up with more money or spend less.

We have managed to save a bit when we cut costs from our budget of things that – although they seemed necessary – we could try to live without.  It’s helped some, but would be more comfortable if we had more wiggle room.  

Another option that we had was to purchase a house that would give us a lower mortgage than what we’re currently paying in rent.  Thus we started looking at houses online and now have a realtor who can take us to houses and allow us to look at them in person.  We started looking for houses at the end of November.

Our journey has definitely been an interesting one.  Fixer-upper stick houses or manufactured houses, which Roland really doesn’t want – but overall I have liked a lot better than any stick beast we have looked at.

In the past, Roland has always looked at the house itself.  I look at the neighborhood.  I have attended the ward before we’ve moved in.  I have made my decision based upon location.  But I don’t know Oregon well enough.  I already have a feel of the wards.  Thus I have been looking at the house itself.  I have seen a few that I liked but wasn’t so fond of the location or else I’ve given myself more time to reflect Roland’s comments on the flaws of the house and have had time to weigh it in my mind.

We saw two houses the other night: one in Sutherlin and one on the outskirts of Roseburg.  I like the idea of Sutherlin – because it is closer to Roseburg and we’re closer to greater opportunities at finding jobs.  But I did not like the house or - more specifically - the yard.

The house is a short sale.  It could take up to two months for the bank to decide whether we can even buy it or not.  Also a six hundred dollar cost on an inspector who may not pass it.  That is quite a gamble.  Even from the realtors’ point of view, it seems like too huge of a risk. It is definitely the oldest house that we would ever live in. Also the traffic on I5 seemed loud – which is weird because I’ve been around heavier traffic all of my adult life. But I’ve gotten used to the quiet and have really enjoyed it.

Roland is excited by the potential of the Sutherlin house.  He sees what things can be done to make it “ours” but I do not share in his excitement at all.  The roof is flat.  There is only one wall heater.  The improvements that Roland would like to make don’t cost as much as the house, but they still cost.  I don’t want to make payments upon improvements and a payment for the house.  We may end up spending more than we are currently paying – which would defeat the primary purpose of our move.

Let’s not forget the cost of tree removal and sprucing up the yard.  I didn’t move to Oregon to spend the rest of my life to fix up a house and yard for someone else to live in (I think I might actually pass away before the renovation is complete) Also there was something in the air that seemed to have the same affect on me as the Salt Lake inversion. 

I think Jenna would have liked the started tree house and just having a tree to climb.  But I don’t think it will be worth the move just for that.  Nor do I believe it will compensate for not being able to finish up sixth grade at Coffenbury.  Overall the schools in Sutherlin do have better ratings than what is offered in Myrtle Creek or Canyonville.

All four of us eliminated the house in Roseburg before we had even arrived.  Dirt streets trails, railroad sounds.  Each of the neighbors seemed to have unsanitary piles of junk surrounding their houses.  I was fine with the interior of the house – very spacious, but still on jacks.  I can visualize an obnoxious wind knocking the house to the ground.  We’d end up in some neighbor’s yard that would just add us to the collection already built up in their yard.  No thank you.  I’ve already lived next door to a pack rat whose yard looked like a junkyard.  I don’t need to look at that on all four sides.

As I was writing, Roland announced that the Sutherlin house would be out.  We were supposed to look at one more house tonight and then we’d put in an offer on something.  It would be one of three houses, two that we had already seen or the one in Roseburg that we were supposed to see tonight. Meanwhile, our realtor called back to tell us why the house in Roseburg wouldn’t work for us.

Roland and I discussed the two remaining house options and narrowed it down to the same house we had signed papers for on Dec 1.  One we thought we would get on a VA loan except for Roland’s ex let her house go into foreclosure and defaulted on his loan and VA wouldn’t give us the amount that was needed – though they did offer to pay for a larger loan. A larger loan would defeat the purpose of our house hunting reasoning in the first place.  But then again, when does our government make sense?

            I still wanted to see Jenna finish out her school year at Coffenbury.  She likes school.  She enjoys getting up in the morning and really is excited.  I didn’t wish to jeopardize that.  If we moved to Canyonville, the morning sky is beginning to fill with enough light that I can see to drive her to finish sixth grade at Coffenbury.  If we took a house in Tri-City, she would remain at the same school until high school.  We both want her to continue in band, which is not offered in Canyonville.  My deciding factor was what the cost of utilities would/will be in each area.

    We won’t be going back to Utah to visit in March as we had planned.  Perhaps after the move, we will be able to save money to return to see our families.  We never did make it out of Douglas County. Perhaps one day before we die, we will be able to visit more of Oregon.

Out of the Blue

          I vaguely remember reading about a situation of a girl who was struggling with maternal issues.  I don't know where I read it or how I had access, but evidently I commented on my own situation, trying to establish some kind of hope.  Two months later my family had moved from Kearns to West Valley.  I hadn't given my comment or the girl a second thought.

          We lived in West Valley for five and a half years before we moved to Oregon.  We've been in Oregon for seven months now and out of the blue I get this picture message and then a facebook request from someone I don't even know.  Turns out to be the girl who had saved my message to her phone and has had it there for all this time.  Evidently my words had left an impact on her end and she sought me out.

          I know I have done that myself.  Recently I sent a message to Jeff (mentioned in this post) although it's been over 35 years since we graduated high school  - at least I gave him something to go on - though he still may not remember me - nor is is it important.  What's important is that he was there for me and I did acknowledge it.  

        A similar situation occured with Maureen who sent me a friend request on facebook.  I did not recognize her name, nor did we have any friends in common.  She lives in Ireland.  I don't know anyone in Ireland.   I messaged her that I thought she had the wrong person.  But she was able to message me back exactly what I said.  

         The description fit.  How many other women with my name did not marry until age 39 and took in three boys and was grateful that she didn't have to go through potty training and had a tubular pregnancy and then gave birth to a girl even though the doctor said that there would be less than a 25% chance of getting pregnant. on and on.  Evidently I had also sent a picture of Jenna.  I don't remember doing that.

          I would not have this vague memory at all if I hadn't read what she had saved.  It is mind boggling to have someone contact you out of the blue like that.  I still don't understand how or where we made the connection.  She still has the same cell phone that she owned back in 2009.  I had gone through three phones and two different phone numbers (I think) in that same amount of time.  I have to delete things or else my phone will clog.  But then again, I still have a "grandma" style phone with buttons.  I don't like touch screen.  They frustrate me.

          I believe that God sends people into your life just when you need them.  We don't always know how we have influenced someone from our past, those we are aquatinted with, or even those we're not acquainted with.  Our thoughts, actions and emotions influence others close at hand and across the sea.  We don't always see it, but God does.  He has a hand in everything.  It is up to us to have the faith to understand the influence he brings to us through others.

          I just hope and pray that I may always contribute in ways that are positive.  I am reminded of this hymn.  I want to incorporate it into my life on a daily basis.  Thanks to modern technology, Maureen and I have the opportunity of corresponding and made a connection.  I am looking forward to many friendships.