Wounded Hand

        Whenever Sugar escapes and can’t figure how to get back, Cocoa bleats.  It’s like an alarm going off to warn us – though that may not be his intent.  Perhaps he feels left out.  Stupid goats.

          I should have probably just left her to fend for herself among the rocks, but I chose to go around and rescue her.  I don’t know what I was thinking.   There is no way I could have thrown the goat over the fence by myself.  Jaime helped me and we both got hurt in the process.

          Her wound wasn’t quite as visible – nor bleeding as mine was. 

It annoys me that the picture gives the impression of paint on my hand.  It’s blood.  I washed it and then took this one.

          I didn’t realize how far the scratch had gone.  Jai apologized that I had gotten hurt.  It wasn’t her fault.  And it certainly doesn’t compare to the injuries I would have received if she hadn’t helped me – or rather I helped her. 

          Her wound was from Sugar while mine was from the fence.  Darn Sugar.

          I noticed she uncovered the area where Cocoa had escaped just a month ago.  He had made it into our back neighbor’s yard – the one who used to house the menagerie – though it’s different people now. It’s a concrete wall!  Mary sent over her grandson to pull him out. 

          If they escape behind the concrete wall again, I’m not climbing the hill and pulling them out.  Hopefully the neighbors behind our yard and Mary’s won’t get upset.  The real hope would be that they don’t go over in the first place.

          Such a weird place for trying to keep protected.

Obstacles

           Just after 10:00 am this morning I received a phone call inquiring my presence for a presidency meeting with the Relief Society. I figured I’d get there by 10:15.  The biggest slow down is the speed limit into town.  Well, normally that’s the biggest slow.

          This morning there were obstacles.

          First obstacle – not so much my obstacle as for others moving headed west – or even north.  There was a dog in the road – either a Husky or German Sheppard – something along that line.  He was wearing a collar and standing in the road.  He wasn’t a threat.  His presence actually reminded me of Odie form the comic strip Garfield.  I thought that he (or she) could get hurt and needed to move out of the way.

          I suppose I could have pulled over and crossed over to it to guide it where?  What would I have done with the dog? I could have checked the tag in search for a phone number.  I had seen the dog before but I don’t know where.

          I was relieved to see another had pulled over to assist.

          For a brief moment I had different thoughts go through my head – both of which I think I have posted before.  One was about a test given at the University of Utah Institute students – only they hadn’t been given the details of the test.  All of those who arrived to class on time had failed the test.

          I wasn’t a student there and so this is only hearsay – but the instructor (who’s class I had taken) said that there had been several scenarios set up throughout the campus eg. a child with a broken bicycle, a student dropping a stack of books, a man falling . . . and if one had stopped to assist that person of course would be late for class. The lesson was seeing an individual as more important than a grade.  So I felt I had failed not only the dog but passing life’s test.

          Next obstacle: There was a utility vehicle ahead on the road I meant to take but turned on the street to see a man putting up a sign.  I did not see what it said – but when I saw two or three police cars ahead I decided to turn around and take the road I had initially thought to take.

          The utility truck was gone.  Hooray!  I took an unfamiliar road toward my destination – only to find the same utility truck blocking my path at the end of the road. 

          I looked over toward the middle school and could see a fire truck and several more police cars.  That was definitely cause for concern.  I waited for the man to put up yet another sign before he returned to his truck and moved out of the way.  I didn’t know what was happening at the middle school.  The sign the man had put up indicated that the road was closed. 

          When I arrived at the final street where the church is, I saw a truck had backed into a driveway, but not all the way.  The cab was in the middle of the road.  There was enough room to go around it. Two guys were coming towards it and I looked to seek approval to move around and hoped that both would know I was there.

          I finally made it to the church!  I had prepared a different thought than the one I had given.  I shared my experience and another that came to mind.  Only it was not my personal experience.  Hearsay again.  But I had no reason to doubt.

          I had been giving a lesson in primary several years ago (probably 1996 or 1997) when one of my students (a boy who had recently moved to our ward from Oklahoma) related the following:

He said he had a primary teacher who worked for the federal building who was already running late for work when she encountered car problems – weather a flat tire or stalled engine, I do not know.  She was still stranded on the freeway when the bomb went off here. 

Often we are faced with obstacles that may seem inconvenient at the time but in the end may work for our good and turn out to be a blessing in the long run - and maybe that’s the thought I was supposed to give as opposed to the one I had prepared.

When I returned home I think I saw that same dog – but in a different area.  I also saw some students from the junior high.  They had missed whatever it was and might not even be aware.  It turns out that the kids were not even in school today as there is a student teacher conference later this afternoon and the instructors were preparing for that.

According to facebook there had been a report of someone burning weeds and somehow it made its way to the school.  Apparently the conference is cancelled but school will start tomorrow as planned.  So glad it was not a shooting.  Still makes me wonder why there were so many police cars at the scene.  I didn’t think Myrtle Creek had that many and wondered if some were from neighboring towns.

Growing Holy Week

           On Sunday we had our Easter program.  It was Psalm Sunday.  Easter falls on Conference weekend and so we will be not meeting at the Church but viewing the world wide broadcast here. 

          I clicked on a link that was sent regarding Holy Week – a short video to take the viewer through each day.  Since the “Come Follow Me” program had been introduced, I have collected Easter thoughts and video links and have created eight documents which I add to each year starting with the outline.  Day One is Palm Sunday – today would be Ash Wednesday . . . I had never celebrated either until the last few years – though more of a recognition than a celebration on my part.  I feel extremely blessed to suggestive recognition. 

          I have added the Saturday Night Sedar (here) to my celebration going on six years.  Each year I spend more time moving from day to day as I read through my collections and watch videos and reminisce and appreciate.

Day to Day videos starting here and here

Four Seasons

 In 52 questions tradition section the last four questions ask what do you look forward to each season, what are the seasonal foods? places? hobbies? and so forth.

I'm sure I could go into more detail but this is what I have thought of so far:

Summer     –     enjoyed pool workouts for the first five years I was here.  The last two years have been more crowded for my taste.  I do enjoy outdoor picnics and barbeques.  I like being in the shade. It’s hot in Utah and equally hot in Oregon.  I don’t recall having fire season each year in Salt Lake.  There were parades and activities all summer long in Utah.  I don’t recall any of them being as hot as Summerfest.  I enjoyed taking the kids to the park for free lunch.  Seems a thing of the past. I prefer Utah summers to Oregon summers overall.

Winter     –     I like the winters in Oregon better than Utah winters where the snow and cold seem to make the season longer.  And the darkness.  Winters are always dark.  I look forward to the lights and decorations and music of Christmas.  I enjoyed sledding and tobogganing in my youth.  I like having green grass in Oregon.  I like Oregon’s moisture as opposed to Salt Lake’s dryness.

Spring     –     I like seeing blossoms on trees and daffodils.  Earlier I had said that Marigolds were my favorite flower but I think I prefer daffodils.  Irises are quite pretty also. I have memories of ham and potato salad that my mom made each spring. I was always grateful that the end of the school year was approaching.

Fall    -         autumn leaves in brilliant colors, the coolness after summer heat, I don’t know that I really have any hobbies.  I like apple cider and watching Jaime’s enthusiasm as it nears Halloween.  No food stands out that I don’t have access to every other season

The Grass is not Necessarily Greener

           We split our yard and kept the goats behind a fence we had secured – allowing them to graze almost a 3^rd of the yard.  It worked for almost three weeks and last night we received a call to let us know that the goats had managed to cross to the other side.

          The goats were staying in the yard at the top of the hill.  Richard and I were both very excited to see two of the “sticks” we planted now have blossoms – and so does the mysterious tree that I thought was a cherry but Richard thought apple.  I guess it’s apple; a daughter to a neighbor’s tree – though the once producing apple tree no longer exists.

          Richard and I spent three hours outside refiguring the fence and allowing more space for Sugar and Cocoa to roam.  When Cocoa returned to Mary’s yard, Richard was able to coax Sugar into crossing over also.  And then we shut the gate between our yard and Mary’s as we continued to secure the fence. 

          We put up a fence around one of the trees, patched where we thought there might be holes for Cocoa to escape (but Sugar cannot get through the holes as Cocoa can;  and really he’s the least mischievous goat of the two.) and I put a time limit and said we would have to return to the house by 6:00 – though we did not until almost 6:30. 

          We’d gone out this morning to tweak the security of the other tree as Sugar wants to eat the blossoms.  We’ll squirt the goats when we catch them doing something we don’t want them to do.  But we are not always out there to guard what we planted.

          There are a ton of weeded vines all throughout the yard.  Way more vines than there is grass.  Richard weed-wacked a small area and threw the weeds over the fence which Cocoa appreciated.  We had the gate shut and the goats were bothering Mary’s handy man.  But when we had finished with the tree we opened the gate and they were chowing down and seemed to enjoy it – though I noticed Sugar attempting to find an escape. 

          We’re not perfect by any means but are slowly finding a way – and enjoy having the animals do the work of mowing our lawn before summer hits – which is when we’d be mowing in Salt Lake.  But we don’t always have that option during fire season.  I have posted pictures.  We still have a hill in the yard.  Slopes. Slippery.  Wet . Muddy.  Looks as though it will rain again.  The goats don't like the rain.  I don't have a problem with it.  Most of the time I welcome it.

Mother's Memories For My Daughter

 

        When we had lived in Kearns and Jaime was almost three, there was a sister in our ward who had given us a Mother and Daughter scrapbook that she said she had but never used – and yet she had three daughters. 

          I made it a project for the two of us to work on and allowed Jai to pick all the pictures for the album and I would write about whatever the page instructed.  I wrote most of it in cursive not realizing few schools would even teach cursive anymore.  As with shorthand, cursive seems to be an art of the past.

          I never had pretty handwriting.  It’s somewhere between elementary and chicken scratch.  It wasn’t until we had moved here and I was working on some updates that I decided to scan the scrapbook, change some of the pictures, and use a font which Jaime would be able to read.  I don’t know how many pages I created.  There are a few tacked to earlier posts such as the ones found here

          I had hoped that Jaime would share my sentiment in preserving our legacy.  She does not.  At least not at this time.  Perhaps when she is my age it will be more meaningful (that is if it doesn’t get lost in the sauce and forgotten)

          In addition I have 12 binders of journaling from what I believed was her point of view.  After we moved here I continued to create pages but hadn’t printed anything.  There are volumes that will take up less space on a thumb drive than on a shelf.

Collecting Pennies

           When I was younger my grandpa taught me the art of collecting pennies and collecting stamps.  My brother and I each had books to collect pennies made in different years at different mints.  My neighbors across the street were really into it and found pennies made during the war.  I still had several pennies when I married Richard.

          He attempted on getting the boys into penny collecting.  I remember donating a couple of rolls of pennies to his cause – though I didn’t see any value to them.  But the boys were floored.  I had pennies dating as early as 1972.  Wow.  The year my brother was born.  To me they really weren’t that old.  But they were over 15 years older than each of the boys – therefore they were “antiques”

          I think within a week the boys had lost interest and some time later he had tried again with his two oldest girls.   Frances did seem interested, but as we really didn’t see them a whole lot, that didn’t pan out either.  So now he’s trying again with Jaime who tries to show genuine interest but is really not.  Richard keeps offering suggestions on what to do with extra pennies that were minted before this decade.

          I told her perhaps we should just keep them all.  After all the penny making has ceased and one day all of the pennies will be more valuable than they are today.  It’s just a thought.