Walk This Way . . .

I am a walker. An early morning walker. I used to be a jogger, but when we moved into our neighborhood 21 years ago I joined a group of girls who walked together every morning and began a lifelong journey of walking. My friend, Marie and I are the only die hards left of our original walking group, but we still walk - every morning - at 5:40 AM - unless it's raining. We walk through wind, snow, ice, escaped convicts, Bandido motorcycles gangs, anything but rain.
And this is where I walk.
Every once and a while we have someone who wants to join in our morning walk, and we let them. We are not discriminatory walkers, but invariably they will want to change our course to something more challenging or longer or more scenic - like THAT does any good, it's dark when we walk, but eventually they will drop out and Marie and I go back to our three mile Millcreek parkway walk. It just suits us.


At one time the orthodontist I used to work for offered a comment that made me realize how unique our walking was. He was getting divorced for the second time and was being all introspective and philosophic about it when the subject of my walking came up. Someone asked me how long I had been walking, and when I told them 16 years he said, "Oh, wow. How do you do that? I can't even stay married for 16 years."

But here is a secret - the real reason I walk every morning without fail. When I was in college I had an Institute teacher who told us that his doctor promised him that if he would walk consistently every day, he would never die from a heart attack. Of a whole list of things I don't want to die from, a heart attack is up near the top of the list. So I walk, banking on a promise made to my Institute teacher by a doctor I don't even know. And if I do eventually die from heart failure . . . well, imagine the irony.

Because She Asked . . .

My friend finally got me copies of her pictures from the debate Dave did at the high school, but by the time they came the election was pretty much history so I thought I would just forget it. Kimbrey, however, is still intrigued, so I'll tell a few thing about the debate that I thought were interesting. Dave got 15 minutes at the beginning to present "his" candidate. He talked mostly about McCain's war service, in particular his POW years. One thing that brought tears to my eyes was when he mentioned someone in the senate once accused John McCain of being a carpet bagger. McCain's reply was that he came from a military family and they moved around a lot. He said he would have loved to have had the luxury of living in one place and calling it home. Then, almost as an afterthought, he said, "In fact, I believe the one place I lived the longest was Hanoi." Dave's point was that in order to effectively run the country you needed to have a deep love for the country and that he was confident that John McCain loves our country deeply. He didn't feel that Obama has that patriotic love for the US that John McCain does.

Mr. DeFrancia's main objection to John McCain seemed to be Pres. Bush. Let me pause here for a minute and just say that I think Pres. Bush has gotten a bad rap. He pretty well got crapped on his second term with 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina, to name just two biggies. I think he did the best he could under a bunch of really BAD conditions, and if I knew where to send it, I would send him a Thank You note for holding to his principles even when the populace was against him and for serving morally and with dignity. I'll bet when Obama moves into the White House there won't have just been a mass of convicts freed from prison, more Utah property tied up as protected land, and all the B's will still be on all the keyboards. ("B"arak o"B"ama, get it?)


Then they took questions. Mr. DeFrancia just kept coming back to Pres. Bush and the war and how terrible it was that we invaded another country without provocation. Dave pointed out that the war came after 9/11 AND after Saddam Hessian protected known terrorists who had killed United States citizens. Mr. DeFrancia's reply was, "It was a Republican President who put Saddam Hessian into power." So . . we shouldn't correct that? We should have just left him there? I'm not sure what Mr. D's point was, but Dave's was that we DIDN'T attack without provocation. They also brought up socialized health care. Dave countered with the fact that we have the best health care in the world here. That in places where they have socialized health care you can't get in to see a Dr. He mentioned one city in Canada (Dave served his mission in Canada) where they drew names every day to see who got to see a Dr. that day. Now, maybe I'm just stupid, but if WE can't afford our own health insurance and OUR taxes support the government, where is the government going to get the money to buy our insurance for us? If someone could answer that for me I would feel a lot better about things.

My proudest moment came when the question was asked about No Child Left Behind. I knew Dave didn't have an answer for that - I had seen his preparation paper, so when that question came up and it was his partner, David Knutson's turn to answer I was relieved. However, David K. took the mike and said, "Be brave, Dave" and handed the mike to Dave. Now, the girl standing next to Mr. D had answered that question for their side. She went on and on about bubble tests, the ACT, how testing doesn't test knowledge, blah, blah, blah, but she finally said that "No Child Left Behind was a punishment for the most important people in our lives - OUR TEACHERS!!" I was shaking in my seat as Dave took the mike, but this was his reply. He said, "I have three grandsons who we love a lot. My oldest grandson is an import (yes, he called Aiden an import) from Ohio. He just turned two years old and he can recite the whole alphabet and he can count to 15. And he has not had a school teacher in his life yet. Then he said, "I respectfully disagree with Miss S, but the most important people in your life are not your teachers, they are your parents and your family. When more parents start to take responsibility for their children's educations and stop expecting the government to do that for them, we won't have to have No Child Left Behind." I wanted to stand on my feet and cheer. But that's just not me, so I cheered and clapped from where I was sitting. He made other really good points about how teachers needed to be held to a standard just like any other person in any other occupation, that maybe testing wasn't the best way to measure a teacher, but that it is the best way we know right now.
Anyway, the outcome is different than I hoped for, but maybe Pre. Elect Obama CAN hold good on some of his promises and make things better. We can only wait and see. I'm really anticipating that middle income tax break - and having someone else pay for my health insurance. Let's see . . tax BREAK, pay more money OUT for health insurance . . . nope, doesn't add up to me, but I've never been that great at math.

A Sadie Hawkins Miracle

Although unrecognizable as such, this is Drew's room. Looking past the fact that he sleeps, by choice, upstairs in the rickety old water bed when he has his choice of nice downstairs bedrooms, you have to know that this room has never been so clean. Bed made, nothing on the floor except his big, blue bean bag chair where he plays X box, and just look at that neat and tidy desk there in the corner!
It all started a few weeks ago when this cute girl asked Drew to Sadie's. Doesn't she look just like Daisy Mae in her dress and running shoes? Actually in this picture she had just finished running in a cross country race and then threw on a dress on to accept an academic all state award. I was cheated out of a Sadie Hawkins picture, but that is another story. Anyway, Friday night, the night before the all day long Sadie Hawkins date, Ivy told Drew he needed to be ready at any time, the whole thing was a surprise and she wasn't going to tell him when she was coming to pick him up. In Drew's mind this meant he may very well be awakened early in the morning by a bunch of cute, giggly girls, (group dating, you know!) so he carefully cleaned his room and even slept in pajamas, just in case. Then he was up bright and early this morning - on a Saturday! The girls didn't show up until 10:00, but it couldn't have worked out better for me.

Just look at that nice, clean floor, shoes lined neatly by his bed. I wonder if I could I get them to do this every Saturday?

An Old Nutmeg Memory

It's funny the circumstances that will jar loose some old, dusty memory hidden in the deep recesses of your mind. While preparing my lesson on Gratitude, this one came hurtling to the front - so I used it - and the girls thought it was pretty funny, so I thought I would share it with my kids, who periodically ask me to tell them stories from when I was a child, like I'm from the 1800's or something! Anyway, this happened when I was 5 or 6 years old. My Grandma Sitterud was visiting us and was going to bake something yummy, but we were out of nutmeg. There was a tiny little grocery store on the corner about a half a block from where we lived, so Mom gave me some money and told me to run over to the store and get some nutmeg. (Oh, the days when you could send a 5 or 6 year old to the store alone!) Only, I didn't know what nutmeg was, so when I walked into the store I told the nice store lady that I needed some nut-neg. She looked puzzled and asked, "What?" "Nut-neg," I repeated. "Nut-neg. My mom needs some nut-neg." She couldn't get it! So she called over another store clerk and asked her to listen to what I wanted. "Nut-neg!" I said, slowly, emphasizing the word so they would understand. But they didn't, and I could hear them discussing what I might be trying to say. "It sounds like she's saying nut 'n egg. Does she want nuts and eggs? But she didn't send enough money for nuts and eggs." Finally, because they had no other solution, they sent me home with a little bag of walnuts and a note - "Did you want nuts and eggs?" Mom and Grandma read the note and then laughed until tears rolled down their faces. Then Mom turned the note over and wrote NUTMEG on the back, and sent me back down the street to the store. The store clerks laughed and laughed when they read Mom's note, and sent me home, finally, with the nutmeg. As I told the Achievement Day girls, memories from your past usually fade until you only remember those things that were really exciting, really scary, or really embarrassing. I don't know why I remembered this one.

For How Could We Hope To See His Face, Who Never Could See His Hand

The above picture was one I used in the photography class I took with Kimbrey this summer. I had kept it pretty quiet that I was driving clear from Moab to attend the class until the last session, but when it did come out, my fellow classmates were astonished (and my teacher was so flattered!) that I would travel so far to take a photography class. We had to do a series of five pictures we had taken and present them to the class, and when this picture came up on the screen I heard someone behind me say, "O.K., please don't tell us that is the view from your back door!" And I heard Kimbrey respond, "Well, practically." I am speaking to a group of cute little Achievement Day girls on Thursday about Gratitude, and the following is something I read in preparation for that assignment. It's by Joseph B. Wirthlin, and he says: "Unfortunately, because the beauties of life are so abundant, sometimes we take them for granted. Our minds have a marvelous capacity to notice the unusual. However, the opposite is true as well: The more often we see the things around us—even the beautiful and wonderful things—the more they become invisible to us. That is why we often take for granted the beauty of this world: the flowers, the trees, the birds, the clouds—even those we love. Because we see things so often, we see them less and less. Those who live in thanksgiving daily, however, have a way of opening their eyes and seeing the wonders and beauties of this world as though seeing them for the first time." As my "year of 50 books" draws to a close, I have set a new goal for 2009. To more fully live my life in thanksgiving daily. And so, 51 thank you cards will go out next year, throughout the year, from my hand. As a line from one of my favorite songs states, "Listen to the wind blow, then listen once again . . ."

Soap Box

Today I am climbing on my soap box, something I rarely do because, although I am passionate about my beliefs, I have a husband who is vocal about them and I think one per family is enough. Recently I have been following the progress of a young girl who is pregnant and not able/willing to keep her baby. My friend who is a nurse and knew of her situation, called and talked to her in great length about a young couple she knew (she was referring, of course, to Jill and Kenny) who would love to adopt and raise the baby. We have had hopes raised and then dashed before in that area, so I really didn't place much hope in the idea that she would choose Jill and Kenny to adopt her baby, but I DID hope she would choose to have the baby and allow someone to raise it. Today I found out that she aborted the baby. And I am surprised at how deeply that effected me. I have been holding back tears all day at work and I am so ANGRY that we live in a country where many people believe it was her right to choose that course. I believe in a woman's right to choose. But I believe she made her choice when she made the choice to have sex. Pregnancy is a consequence of that choice - sometimes a happy consequence and sometimes not, but we live with the consequences of our choices, do we not? There are many alternatives to abortion. It only takes nine months out of a whole life to bring forth another life and then give the beautiful gift of a child to someone whose arms ache for one. So, here's my soap box speech. I have had more than a few Democrats say to me, "You say you could never be a democrat because democrats believe in abortion." And, by the way, they do. I looked it up. It's in their platform. So, to go on, their thing goes like this, "When you go to the polls, do you believe in EVERYTHING your Republican candidate stands for? Well, I can be a democrat and not believe in abortion." O.K., good for you, but I can't. I ABHOR!!! abortion. It's wrong. And it is not a LITTLE thing - it's a biggie. There is nothing I disagree with in the Republican party that is anywhere close to being as huge as that one belief. And, the moment the Republican party claims a belief in abortion is the moment I abandon ship with them. By the way, that is not the only reason I am a republican, but it is a HUGE reason I am not a democrat or affiliate with any other political party who believes a woman can choose to kill an an unborn child. I believe, I HOPE, that someday our posterity will look back on our country's sanction of abortion with the same shame and horror we now view slavery, or the killing of Native Americans. It. Is. Wrong. And I will never join hands with a party who refuses to admit that. O.K., now I'm down. I'm better. I've stopped crying and I can write to my missionary son with peace in my heart.

Halloween and It's Subsequent Weekend

Halloween has been a relatively quiet affair at our house for the past few years. No little kids clamoring to dress up and go trick-or-treating and so few trick-or-treaters come up our dark, scary road, we've resorted to handing out full sized candy bars to entice goblins and witches to our door. But this year a cute little monkey showed up and lifted our Halloween spirits.

Today we ordered lunch at Milt's and ate at the Rotary Park, a favorite thing to do when our kids come home. Dave brought Jake, his little kestrel along and we had a good time playing Pooh sticks on the bridge.
And playing on the toys. It was a beautiful day.