Sweet "Aloha" -- Goodbye for Now

Aloha Oe

How Nutty Are You?

For some reason, I am compelled to take any quiz like this. Here's the latest one. According to the nut test, I'm a cashew.

And here's what this apparently says about me: "You are laid back, friendly, and easy going. Compared to most people, you have a very mild temperament. You blend in well. You're often the last person to get noticed. But whenever you're gone, people seem to notice right away!"

Come on, girl chillen and friends, try the nut test and find out what nut you are. And be sure to share.

Dog Days of Summer: Putting the Baby to Bed

By now you probably know that we have a dog, a Beagle named Bo. He has lived longer than we ever expected--he's about 119 in dog years. He doesn't hear very well, and we're noticing that his sight isn't the best. He doesn't get as excited as he used to, and he sleeps a lot. I have expressed on this blog before how this little tri-colored pup has burrowed into my heart, which is an amazing thing to me. When we bought him for our four-year-old son almost 17 years ago, I simply tolerated him and was pretty proud of my aloof attitude about it all. But I quickly learned that dogs are called man's best friend for a reason. And I'm pretty stuck on Bo.

Though he is old and slow, Bo still clings to his bark. I remember the first time I heard him bark so many years ago. I flashed Bob a look and asked, "What's that? Does he have something stuck in his throat?" I was told that no, he's a hound, and that's the noise hounds make. Well, he still sounds like a hound, but he's quieter and he doesn't give it the effort he used to. Which leads me to the purpose of all of this.

One evening several weeks ago, at about 9:00 pm, Bo began to bark. I have to tell you that barking is a process with him these days. He starts out with little short under-his-breath "woofs", warning us that the next one just might be for real. He reminds me of an old car that has to warm up before taking to the road at full throttle. On this particular night, I heard the pre-barking grunts, but didn't think much of it, other than it was a little late. Both Bob and I ignored him. We thought that whatever was bothering him would go away momentarily. It didn't. Soon came the full-blown bark, every five seconds or so. Bob and I looked at each other, a little mystified.

Suddenly, I was having flashbacks. Flashbacks of babies and toddlers who didn't want to go to bed. I had hopped through C. S. Lewis' magic wardrobe and had found myself in Mommy mode. "Bob," I ventured, trying not to sound totally out of my mind, "Maybe he just needs to be told it's time for bed. Why don't you go out and talk to him?" Bob gave me the incredulous look I expected, but like the good husband he is, he did as I suggested and walked out to the back yard. When he returned, I asked him what had happened. He said that Bo was already in his dog run, standing up, watching the house. He saw Bob coming, but he didn't move. "Did you talk to him?" I asked. "Yes," answered Daddy Dog. "I talked to him." We didn't hear anything from Bo for the rest of the night.

We now have a new evening routine. Every night, at 9:02, 9:04, or sometimes 9:08, Bo begins his goodnight bark. And Bob wanders outside and tells him everything is ok, it's time to go to bed, and he should go to sleep now. Bo studies Bob's face, then turns toward his doghouse, goes inside it, and lies down. And he is quiet until morning.

Yep, Bo continues to let us know he's part of our family, and as long as he doesn't start demanding a two o'clock a.m. feeding, I think we'll keep him.

A Super "Shout Out"

"City Lights"

Some of you have asked about the incredible totes I've been toting around. :-) Bob's cousin Suzanne, who lives in Colorado, is the talented lady who makes them. She is not only an expert seamstress, she has a knack for color, fabric, and ways to put everything together. But, you've already seen that. The good news is that she is giving away a tote in the next week or so, and you can enter your name in the drawing by hopping over to her site on http://www.justanotherhangup.blogspot.com/. The tote in this contest is totelicious! *groan* She's also giving away a Dwipe, another item she makes. Don't know what that is? Take a look and put your name in the pot for both freebies!

Reflection

I'm reflective by nature. It often gets me in trouble. In writing this, I somehow feel I should apologize, perhaps because this forum is better served by levity. But though I love to laugh and am really trying to learn not to take things too seriously, this last week has been one when the bigger picture has been casting a rather large shadow, and try as I might, when this happens I find myself in an introspective, contemplative sort of mood.

I've spent the majority of my days this week among hundreds of 19-year-old young men in white shirts. I'm learning how to teach them some specific skills that may help them better accomplish the assignments for which they are preparing. I cannot find the words to describe my experience with these young men. The truth is, I fall in love a dozen times a day and want to wrap them up and take them home with me. They are truly happy, and it shows in myriads of ways. They are respectful and helpful. They are grateful to learn--anything and everything that will help them do a better job. I often see two together, teaming up to study and practice.

Last night, Bob and I hopped in our SUV and drove over to the new high school in our town. This fall it will open its doors to its first group of students and its first graduating class. The building is stunning. We drove around the campus, and I marvelled at the perfection that is newness--the football stadium, the grounds, even the parking lots. All basically untouched. Then, we parked the car and grabbed the camera, got out, and walked to the baseball field. If a high school baseball field can be described as "beautiful", then this one qualifies. It is fully equipped, ready to go, with newly-laid grass, bleachers, and dugouts. We noticed a lone young man, standing in the batter's box and hitting balls pitched to him by an older version of himself. We stood and watched the boy take his Dad's pitches as we snapped some photos, and we listened to the distinct "ping" when the young man's bat connected with the ball. They use wood bats in the major leagues. In high school, it's aluminum, and there is no mistaking the sound. I pictured the many hours of "pinging" that would soon fill this field.

These experiences do relate to each other for me. And both have caused me to reflect, to ponder, to remember the past, to look forward to the future, and, most importantly, to embrace the present. Oh, those precious present moments. They make the past what it is and can decide what the future will be. Today, I'm thankful for all the present moments in my life that have included the "ping" of a bat and a white shirt, and for this moment of reflection.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

August 5, 1975

Salt Lake City

Answers to Photo Tag

I've been absent from blogging for a while, partly because of computer problems, and partly because of me problems :-). But, I looked over a couple of drafts and decided to post this one. So, for those of you who have been holding your breath, here are my answers to the Photo Tag posted on July 27 below:

Age: I just loved the picture. I'd never thought of that situation from a baby's point of view. :-)

My maiden name: This is a baseball signed by one of my favorite third-basemen in the business. I took a chance and left the signature in tact. If you can decipher his handwriting, the name is there. But is it his first or last name we're looking for? And are you sure? :-)

Place I would like to visit: No kidding, I would LOVE to "Get my kicks, on Route 66." Beginning to end. In a Mustang convertible.

Favorite object: Even though my mother thought it was absolutely sinful to call a piano an object, ("A piano has a soul, Judy!") it is definitely my favorite object. Sorry, Mom.

Favorite food: Moist chocolate cake. Coming in second, anything other good chocolaty thing. I don't like wasting calories on knock-offs. But, that doesn't mean I don't ever do it. :-)

Favorite color: Blue

Where I was born: Check out the letter on the mountain. It's a Y. I was born in Provo, but I grew up in the Salt Lake valley.

Where I live now: In a little part of heaven.

Best friend's nickname: My hubby's name is Robert.

My first name: The shoe is "Judy" from the "Oh Deer" line. Good catch, Jen!

First job: I worked for my uncle's engineering firm in SLC as a secretary, and therefore usually wore office-ready clothes to college, as I went to my job downtown directly from class (sometimes I'd change in a back room). One day, a day I happened to be dressed for the office and wearing nylons and heels, my uncle announced that I needed to clean all the garbage cans. If you have ever been around engineers, draftsmen, ink . . . Well, I did it. But that was my last day there. My sweet older brother gave me permission to quit. Sheesh.

My grandmothers' first names:

Lorette. This is a photo of a French basilica called Notre Dame de Lorette. Apparently the land it sits on was a strategic site during WWI. See how fun this game is?

Ellen. Either the ship in the picture, winning a race, or Dame Ellen Macarthur ON the ship, who is apparently quite the sailor in Britain. At first I thought it was the name of the ship, but when I looked for more pictures, I learned about this woman who is quite the celeb in England.

College degree: English, hence what seemed to be 24/7 reading.

What I was doing right then: Yes, Mia, I'm afraid I wasn't feeling too well. I found this drawing of a little dog entitled "Sick and tired of being sick and tired." I loved it. I'm not a patient sick person.

And there you have it!

Mr. Pope

While I was pursuing my college degree in English, I studied many authors. Among these was the great Alexander Pope. I liked reading Pope. He had the knack of saying a lot in a few words. Four short lines from his famous Essay on Man made a profound impact on me. I have never forgotten the message, though I often had a hard time quoting the lines exactly. I wonder. How could a secular writer, often regarded as the greatest writer of the 18th century, pen thoughts that would be pertinent to those of us living in the 21st century? The answer is fairly simple: Truth is truth. And Alexander Pope nailed it.

Many times since my college days I have heard this phrase quoted by people I admire in many different settings. I believe the last time I heard it over the pulpit was when Gordon B. Hinckley referenced it. During the last little while I have finally memorized it, so that I have it at my fingertips when I need it. That's how important I think the message is.

Occasionally I like to share words such as these which have made an impact on me. Pope's writing may seem a bit awkward to some, but once his cadence and his particular use of the English language is learned, (and it doesn't take long), he is easy to understand. See if his message strikes a chord in you. (The word "mien" is defined as "appearance" or "demeanor".)

Vice is so frightful of a monster mien,
As to be hated needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

Photo Tag

My Dad often used the phrase " . . . going from the sublime to the ridiculous." Well, comparing Thankful Thursday's post against this one, it sort of fits. However, one thing my Dad knew how to do in a spectacular fashion is to laugh at life. He would have loved this little quiz, Jen. So, thanks for tagging me.

This tag idea was amazingly fun, and it also took quite a bit of ingenuity. It was a top-knotch brain teaser. I'm still trying to figure out a couple of YOUR image-answers, Jen, and I think I know you pretty well. Clever girl. Everyone who wants to try it, consider yourself tagged.

Here's what to do: Google-search images of the answers to the following questions, then pick your favorite image. The images can be obvious, cryptic or clever, whatever you choose. Post them on your blog as shown. If you'd like, try to figure mine out. (Please abbreviate or deftly disguise maiden or last names!)

My age:

My Maiden Name:

Place I would like to visit:

Favorite object:

Favorite food:

Favorite color:

Where I was born:

Where I Live Now:

My Best Friend's Nickname:

My first name:

Bad habit of mine:

My first job:

My Grandmothers' Names:

My College Degree:

What I am doing right now:

Thankful Thursday

May I just say that I love this idea. The credit goes to Mia, and I hope it's ok if I tag along. I need every opportunity I can find to reflect on the blessings in my life. So, first of all, thank you, Mia.

Today is the 24th of July, also called Pioneer Day, and is a holiday particular to Utah. It celebrates the arrival of the Mormon pioneers to the desolate Salt Lake Valley after long, arduous travels by wagon and handcart. They settled there and began to build a dwelling place which today is undeniably beautiful. So on this day my thoughts naturally turn to my heritage, my ancestors, and the great gifts that are mine because of them.

My great-grandparents on my father's side joined the ill-fated Martin handcart company who became stranded in Wyoming in a wicked, early snowfall. Many in this company did not survive. Mine were fortunate enough to be among the rescued and taken to shelter in the Salt Lake valley. My great-grandparents on my mother's side traveled by wagon train. During the journey, the family was stricken with disease, and the children were left as orphans, entering the valley alone. They were then assigned to and adopted by families already settled there.

I often wonder if I would have had the courage to leave comfortable surroundings and head West to the unknown. I honestly do not know. But I do know that I owe my great-grandparents my love, my allegiance, and my everlasting gratitude for their stoic perserverance. I hope that my life will, in the end, reflect their sacrifice.

Hello, Bloomin' Tuesday!

Today, I've chosen to show some late-bloomers in my yard. Below are my daisies, which bloom about three to four weeks after I see other daisies in our neighborhood. They are a distinct petite variety that you can have shipped from Burpee, Inc.

Also, my late-blooming day lillies are here. They, too, are a Burpee product, and bloom in July. They are a true day lily, in that each blossom blooms only once and is gone the next day. You can see the blooms that are ready to pop tomorrow.

On to fence climbing blooms. I love to cover my fences in beautiful vines and blossoms. Below is a beautiful orange trumpet vine. It works extremely well for rounding out the "squareness" of fences, but it can get away from you if you're not careful. It's worth the trouble.

In a few more weeks, I'm going to share what I do with my favorite ground cover, Snowcap, sometimes called "Bishop's Weed", when it has had too much of our 90-100 degree weather and generally changes from its beautiful green to a rather ugly brown. Some people really don't care for this ground cover because of its penchant to sunburn. But I do something radical around the end of August, or whenever I see too much brown. I'll be letting you know what that is, and what happens.

Go to Ms. Green Thumb Jean's to sign up to participate in Bloomin' Tuesday or to see other Bloomin' Tuesday posts.

All-Star Break

Some might think I'm a demure, artsy sort of girl, but, come to think of it, maybe not so much. (I'm suddenly remembering myself on numerous occasions chasing our dog down the street with a piece of pizza to get him to come back home. Demure. Yep.)

In any case, I feel compelled to memorialize my antics while Bob and I were watching the Home Run Derby last week. For those of you who don't follow Major League Baseball, (or didn't drive a son to three million games from the time he was four until he could hop the bus with the high school team), I'll explain that the HR Derby is part of Major League Baseball's All-Star break. During this break, all the teams take a breather for about four days and do some pretty fun stuff for their fans and charity. Then, the teams play the last part of the season on the way to the World Series in October.

Included in the events are an all-star Fanfest, a Legends and Celebrity softball game, an MLB all-star batting practice, the above-mentioned all-star Home Run Derby, and it culminates in the yearly MLB all-star game. All events are open to any fans of any team who are able to obtain tickets. This year it was held at Yankee Stadium, the last big hurrah for that field. (A new stadium is being built next door.)

Anyway, while we were watching the Home Run Derby, a little quiz began to unfold itself in my mind. Obviously, there was a pause of a minute or two as a new player walked to the batter's box and prepared to hit as many home runs as he could within a certain number of pitches and/or strikes. As each player stood at the plate and squared up to try for a homer, I squared up and, how can I say this delicately and not give the wrong impression, inexplicably began to analyze their legs.

Now, usually I'm drawn to broad shoulders, so this was kind of new territory for me. But, pretty soon, I had fashioned a game for myself, trying to guess how tall the players were by eye-balling the length of their legs. I'd study each player's legs, guess his height, and then look up his stats on the MLB web page. I had Bob's laptop handy, so I could do this rather quickly. (Checking out baseball players' stats? Please. I'm a pianist and an English major.) But of course none of this activity was my fault. (See reference to the three million games cited above.)

At first, I sort of talked to myself. "About five-nine," I'd say quietly. Then I would check the laptop. Wow. I was pretty darn close. I continued my guessing. Pretty soon, my voice took on an umpire's shout of "You're OUT!" as I continued to guess. "Six-two!" I blurted, loudly. "Huh?" Bob replied. "I'm trying to guess heights," I said. "What?" he asked. "I'm trying to guess their heights by the length of their legs." "Oh. Are you watching them hit?" Very funny. I kept on going.

The next batter took his place. I sized him up. "Six even!" I yelled. "What?" Bob asked. "I told you, I'm guessing heights." "Oh. Sure." This was getting fun. I eyed Justin Morneau's legs. He plays for the Minnesota Twins. "Six-four!" I said. Bob, having tuned me out and now on full auto pilot, said "Hmmm." Undeterred, I continued. I didn't care if I no longer had an audience. Now, I was on a mission. "Six-two!" Pause. Laptop check. "Correct!" "Five-eleven!" Laptop check. "Right-o!" Now I was British. And on it went.

If I'd been on a TV game show, I would have taken home some serious cash. Amazingly, I was 100% correct on the guys who were 6'4". Go figure. More amazingly, Bob didn't tell me to knock it off. Obviously, he's a very patient man, and I'm in need of help. But in the end, I had to put my personal game on hold, as one of those 6'4" dudes, Josh Hamilton of the Texas Rangers, hit 28 straight home runs in Round 1. Incredibly, he paused at about number 18 to sign a baseball for a little boy or two. Josh put on a fabulous, unbelievable show. It was a landslide record.

Guessing heights aside, my favorite part of all-star week has always been the Legends and Celebrity softball game. The oldsters still certainly have the "it" factor. This year's game was absolutely, complete fun. I was too busy laughing at the guys calling the game and at the players themselves to do anything but enjoy. They played like there was no tomorrow. Seeing some of those oldsters slog around the bases somehow gave hope to us all. And the celebs? It was obvious that they were having the time of their lives. The fans were loving it, especially the young ones with dreams of stardom in their eyes.

It's called America's Pastime for a reason, folks. And I'm kooked, er, hooked.

Friend

FRIEND

A friend is one to whom you can pour out
the contents of your heart,
chaff and grain alike,
Knowing that the gentlest of hands
Will take and sift it,
Keep what is worth keeping and,
with a breath of kindness,
Blow the rest away.

--Anon

Scott and Bo, and Lessons in Love

I was sorting through some old snapshots the other day, and I came across this one of Scott and our Beagle, Bo. This was taken in 1993. Scott was 5 and we'd had Bo about a year. In spite of my lackluster desire to have a dog, it's easy to take one look at Scotty's face and understand why I couldn't say "No!" to that. And so Bo's been a family member ever since.

Fast forward to July 2008. Bo celebrates his 119th in dog years in July. When Scott left 18 months ago, I watched him say a sweet goodbye to his canine friend. Neither he nor we thought Bo would make it another two years when Scott would return home. But there he is, much slower, much grayer, much quieter, sleeping a lot. Occasionally, we wonder if he's just waiting for someone.

Here's a photo that Scott sent us this week. He's holding a Beagle that he says reminds him of Bo. Although Scott is much older, taller, and wiser than he was in the first picture, the grin in this photo is amazingly similar to the one in the 1993 photo. There's still an incredible amount of enthusiasm and love in Scott's face. Now, however, much of it belongs to people who live in small, slightly run-down homes, with whom Scott now spends his time and loves with all his soul. And, conversely, they love him. From what I'm told, they'd let Scott have their Beagle in a heartbeat.

It's Tuesday, already?

The only bloomin' flower that I can claim as my own is the one in the first photo, and it is truly lovely. It's my first try at growing Columbine, and though it is a little timid in our heavy clay dirt, I love the simple, lacy beauty. I tend to plant what I know will grow well in the climate of central Utah--bedding annuals. So I'm excited that my first try with Columbine is alive, and I hope to see it take off next year. It just might, with some bloomin' love.

The next four photos are a bit of a cheat, perhaps. I hope it's not against the rules to submit snapshots of flowers my neighbors have. I'm not even sure what the following beauties are, but I really did enjoy a lovely walk with my camera. Perhaps someone more knowledgeable can identify them?



I'm pretty sure the flowers above are bell flowers. Good guess? They are beautiful! I love the fact that my neighbors have greener thumbs than mine!

TTFN!

Go to Ms. Green Thumb Jean's to sign up to participate in Bloomin' Tuesday or to see other Bloomin' Tuesday posts.