A FIRE IN THE PASTURE 2008

The smoke could be seen from the road. Gently it billowed up into the blue sky. As we turned off the road onto the dirt driveway we could easily see the source of the smoke. It was Thanksgiving weekend and Mimi’s birthday, and the smoke was from the fire in the pasture. As I looked to the place in the pasture where the brush was piled and burning, I could see little boys stoking the fire with their sticks as in years past. Little girls were there being properly ignored, but taking in the aroma and building the memories that will last all their lives. No matter what happens in the future, these memories are etched permanently in that place in the brain where the memories of pleasurable events are stored.

We honked the horn. Mimi and Grandpa were here and the kids bolted from the fire to the car. Hugs and kisses were had by all. Then the kids started grabbing luggage and tugging on the handles to pull suitcases up the gravel walk to the house. In the house more hugs and kisses. You would have thought we never see each other. With the exception of Heidi, our homes are only a few miles apart. Hilary wouldn’t arrive until late that evening, having gotten a late start from Fort Knox. The weather was cooperating and all would travel and arrive under blue or starry skies.

There were new babies this year and a new requirement for cribs. The cribs required bedrooms so the babies would not keep others awake in the event they had a hard time sleeping. So Mimi and Grandpa all of a sudden were out of a room. Actually, other accommodations could have been made, but it was just easier on all for us to go to town and stay in the motel. As it turned out, the motel was being renovated by the new owners and it was nice, clean and cheap! We were afraid that perhaps the train, which passes just yards from the motel, would awaken us often as the trains rumbled through town. But, we heard not a click nor a clack and we slept well. We stayed at the house late in the evenings and arrived in time for breakfast every morning….usually via the way of Wal-Mart! After our experience, others are now thinking that they may volunteer to stay at the motel in the future.

As the weekend got into full swing, I noticed that the fire in the pasture was often going unattended. Where were the boys? What happened to the girls and their directing the efforts of the boys to make the fire burn better? Nintendo. The boys had graduated to the electronic age and were engaged in whatever little boys play on a DS. The little girls wondered around and played what little girls play when boys are not attending the fire. The older boys were gearing up for the hunt. There was target practice and the sighting in of the sights on the rifles. Learning safety tips from their Dads and making sure the cammo was properly worn. And the older girls were just being older girls…trying to figure out how they could get someone to take them shopping. They settled for the movies with Aunt Cindy, to see a vampire and to eat at Olive Garden.

The family was ready to eat! Thanksgiving had arrived. This year dinner would be at 6’ish so the great hunters could take as many deer that they could that day. Turkeys were roasted and deep fried. Potatoes were mashed and gravyied. Sweet potatoes were casseroled and candied. Dressing was wonderful! Cranberries were ---- well, cranberries. And the pies! Is there ever enough pie! We ate and ate, talked and talked, and laughed and laughed. It was a Thanksgiving that fit in with all our past Thanksgivings, yet so different. And we all are already looking to 2009!

On Friday the rains came….and came. Kids stayed in the house. Some of the adults ventured out to Wal-Mart and Black Friday. And unlike New York, everyone was friendly and helpful…and no clerks were trampled to death. The fire in the pasture endured the day. And, even though we were crowded in the house and often had to talk above the noise, not a cross word was spoken. Movies and football were the order of the day. Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit occupied many of the adults. And food! And at the end of the day, the rain continued.

By the weekend the rain had stopped and the kids were outside. I noticed that no one was at the fire. Then I noticed that the fire in the pasture had drowned. All during the rain, the fire continued to smoke, but in the end, it was no match for the rain and humidity. Not so for the enthusiasm of the kids and the parents. And next year our 5 year olds will be 6 year olds; a whole new crop of boys at the age to stoke the fire and a bunch of girls to tell them how to do it. And the hunter’s? Well, there is always next year!

With the words, “Color guards, post colors”, the Eagle Scout Court of Honor was under way. Joshua was receiving the Eagle Scout rank he had earned during his youth as a Boy Scout. The Weblos Den from Ashdown that Jacob belongs to was the color guard. These younger Scouts proudly carried the American and Troop flags to the front and upon command from the Senior Patrol Leader (and Eagle Scout Candidate), the boys placed the colors in the flag holder on each side of the rostrum. In the front, facing the audience was the Eagles Nest, the area where all those holding the rank of Eagle Scout sat. The program progressed and then it was time for comments of encouragement to the new Eagle Scout. “We call him “Pooter” “, stated Uncle Chad. Aunt Heather then explained how he got that name and the integrity that the name “Pooter” represented.

Following the Court of Honor, the family moved to the baptismal font. With Grandpa presiding and Uncle Scott conducting, Jannie entered the waters of baptism and was baptized by her Daddy, Paul. A few minutes later, with her Grandpa, Uncles and Cousin assisting, Jannie was confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, again by her Daddy. What a neat experience to have a room filled only with family, all enjoying the moment of joy for Jannie.

Then Brandon came forward, and with all the Priesthood still in the front, Brandon took a seat and his Dad, Brett, ordained him to the office of Teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood. What a special time for all three that Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend.

On Saturday afternoon, Gunner, Hilary’s dog, was loving life on the farm. He was out renewing friendships with the family dogs and checking out the wildlife. Flower wasn’t as gentle and sweet as he was in Bambi. Flower left his calling card all over Gunner. Gunner then got a firsthand experience with tomato juice and Summer’s Eve. But Flower’s aroma prevailed and Gunner was relegated to his kennel for the remainder of his visit to Arkansas. Poor Gunner.

The fire in the pasture went out early in the rain. But the rain didn’t dampen the fire in our hearts. We all had fun, and a lifetime of memories were made. We now look forward to the Christmas holidays and the New Year, but it is the Thanksgiving adventures on a little farm in rural Arkansas where a fire in the pasture continues to burn in the recesses of our minds and rekindles the feelings of the eternal nature of families and our lives.

My Hawaii

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I have been blessed to be have an assignment as beautiful as this. I hate TDY's, but this sure beats the heck out of Dugway Proving Ground! Enjoy the pics.

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Sunset Beach Hawaii Sunset

I finally got to see my first Hawaiian Sunset this evening. Thanks to my children who gave me a neat digital camera for a gift last year, I got to take some fantastic pictures. Enjoy them.

In Hawaii ****

“In Hawaii there’s a place known as Waimea Bay, where the best surfers in the world come to stay. And ride the wild surf, they come to try to conquer those waves some thrity feet high” (Ride the Wild Surf by Jan and Dean)

Well, Waimea Bay is just a hop, skip and jump from where I am, but here I am in the land of splendid sunsets, so I decided to see one tonight. Where should I go to see a Hawaiian sunset? Not Waimea Bay, but Hawaii’s Sunset Beach, naturally. So after dinner I drove over to Sunset Beach … my condo is about 3 miles from there. When I got to Sunset Beach, I found me a good place to sit and watch the sunset. The sky was partly cloudy, so I figured it would be spectacular! There would be shards of sunlight streaming from the sun and clouds right up until the sun sizzles as it dips into the ocean. The sun would set in about an hour – but the clouds kept rolling in … an in … and in! Then there was no sun and the rain began. So I set the calendar on my watch to remind me to try it again tomorrow. But I did get some good photos of Sunset Beach. Enjoy.

SQUIRRELS

Click on the Squirrel!

This morning I got a text message from Heather: “So I have BBQ’d squirrel in my backyard & no power.” It reminded me of the dead squirrel the power crew found in my yard while restoring my power when a squirrel got fried in the transformer.

This got me to thinking about squirrels and wondering how such a cute little animal could be such a pain in the rear. First and foremost, we have to forget the Walt Disney images of this little critter. He is a rodent! A rat is a rodent! So these little Chip and Dales are just rats with furry tails.

But they are so cute, and they don’t eat much – JUST ALL THE PECANS OFF MY TREES! I haven’t had a decent harvest of pecans in years. I remember as a boy my Uncle Lee had walnut trees in his backyard and had the same problem – darn squirrels ate all the walnuts. So he got a little terrier dog, Daisy June, and gave her the run of the backyard. She would bark at anything that had 4 legs and moved, especially in trees. The result was his neighbors complaining they had no walnuts and that Uncle Lee always had a bumper crop. So I figured that if Daisy June could scare the squirrels away, then my dogs could too. There must be something scarier about a Terrier because the wiener dog and the Schnauzers did nothing to get rid of the little nut thieves. So here was my dilemma, how do I get rid of the squirrels?

One afternoon I was sitting on the swing in the backyard with a couple of my grandchildren watching birds eat from the bird feeder. Squirrels are infamous for stealing the feed from the bird feeders. So I figured I would place my bird feeders where the squirrels couldn't get to them. Worked like a charm. Whenever the little birdies came to eat from the feeders, they always had plenty of food because the little thieving critters couldn't get to the seed. But that didn’t mean that I had outsmarted them, not one bit. When I went to get bird feed from the BBQ cart where I stored the feed, it was gone. They had figured how to get in and take the seed from the source. I know one little squirrel was sitting on a branch of the pecan tree, eating a pecan and laughing at me.

One summer we had a squirrel that had no tail. This seemed to fascinate the kids. We don’t know why the varmint had no tail, but I could imagine it losing it in a fight with a cat, or a trap, or some other means of torture. One thing, it made it easy to watch the squirrel that summer because we always could tell “our squirrel”.

Now, the little darlings stealing my pecans was bad enough, but then we began to hear what we thought were mice in the attic. You see, here in Central Texas, we have a complete array of critters that can take up residence above your residence. I once heard someone complain that they could hear animals in their attic. I just said, “Welcome to Texas. Well, one afternoon while in the backyard I saw a squirrel jump from the tree to the roof, then in thru the vent below the eaves of the house. Great! I checked the vent and where there was once screen, there was nothing but air.

One day I asked Val’s dad, an exterminator, the best way to get rid of squirrels. He told me tomatoes and poison. Squirrels love tomatoes and if I mix a little poison that I could get from the local feed store, I could wipe out an entire colony in a few days. He gave me some instructions on how to do this without killing off other animals. You know, I thought, this might just work. But I never got passed the thinking part.

One day I got some wire mesh and when I figured the little demons had left for the day, I had Scott go up into the attic and seal off the vents. It worked! Didn’t hear a single squirrel – for at least 2 days. Then they were BACK! We could sit in the living room and listen to them doing what ever it was they do. Just have to do something before they destroy my wiring (they love to eat the insulation on wires).

Now this is where I can say, “Meanwhile, back at the ranch”. Holly was complaining that she had squirrels up in her attic, too. So we called the exterminator to come and clear them out. They used traps, etc and a couple of visits to get them. But not without bodily injury, and not to the rat, but to me! The exterminator had gotten rid of all but one – RAMBO! I went out into the garage to get something and “there I was”, face-to-face with Rambo. He jumped and I jumped. He wanted to get back to the attic, only I was between him and the opening. So he jumped up onto the window sill and made a leap to freedom….onto a PVC pole sticking up into the attic opening. Why it was there, I have no idea. Rambo leaped and grabbed the pole and his little legs and feet were going like mad climbing that pole. Only problem – it was PVC. There was nothing for his little feet to grab. The faster he climbed, the faster he slid down the pole. Now I figured the best way out of this mess was to open the garage door, so I made a dash to the door before Rambo made it to the floor. The door went up and he saw FREEDOM – and away he went. Last time I saw him he was skirting out the garage door.

Now this all occurred in just less than a minute. Then the exterminator guy comes out into the garage and sees a large shelf unit that reached right up to the opening into the attic. He asked me to help him move it over so Rambo couldn't get back in. BIG MISTAKE! This is where the “bodily injury” part comes into play. I pushed and my knee tore. Surgery and 6 months of recovery - which is another chapter in some future post.

“Meanwhile, back at the other ranch”, we still had squirrels. I asked Scott to look around the eaves of the house to see if he could see where they were getting in. He first checked his handiwork with the mesh wire, and it was all good. Then every nook and cranny, and then he found it. Right above my bedroom window the squirrels had chewed an opening – we had found the back door. So Scott rolled the mesh wire and shoved it into the opening. The next morning I am awakened by the pattering of little feet above my head. Papa Squirrel was heading out to work, He stopped, and then I hear him run back. Then the whole herd passes over, I can hear them hitting at the mesh for several minutes. It was actually fascinating to hear…too bad I didn’t have a video camera up there. Then success and away they all scurried. I could hear them jump on to the eaves, then quiet. I went out and secured the opening. The saga of the squirrels was over. Almost.

I still wanted to get rid of the little buggers. In the mean time, Heather and Shawn moved in their new house, right behind us. Shawn, along with Brett, Paul and Shawn, had taken up deer hunting. Shawn also took up bow hunting and practicing for the Thanksgiving Smack Down, he took to target practice. Hitting the bull’s-eye on a target affixed to a hay bale was easy. He needed moving targets. Squirrels. He began stalking the little critters and got pretty darn good. And except for a missed aim that took down a swimming pool filter, he got pretty good. And our squirrel population seems to have either expired or moved on. Now I have to figure out where to get all these pecans shelled!

We Must Never Forget!

DeDespite all the rhetoric from the politicos and the conspiracy theorists, this was a second day of infamy and a day we must never forget.

Target Target

The joke around here is that if you want to save money, shop at Target – they never have what you what. Actually, there is more truth than fiction in that statement, as far as I am concerned. The other night is the classic example; but before I get to that story, let me tell you why I make this bold statement.

I have purchased very little over the years in Target, mainly because they never have what I want. I have gone into the store with Mom to get this or that and end up buying a package of napkins or a Snickers candy bar, but not what we came in to buy. I first began to notice this when I went to buy a plastic tub and they were out. Later I went to buy something they had on sale that I wanted for Christmas decorations, and they were out.

We were in Bryan one Christmas time for a cousins party at Bug’s when we decided to go pick up something at the store. Cindy was with us and wanted to stop at Target to get a gift she needed for her kids. I said that I could save her a lot of time because they wouldn’t have it. She said surely they would because it was advertised on sale in the paper. She trudged into the store and some time later became a believer – they were out of stock!

In 2006 I was in Utah working and was getting ready to head home at the end of the job. One Saturday afternoon I was to meet my cousins, Dovey and Judy for lunch so we could say our goodbyes. The restaurant we chose was in the same center as a Target. I needed something and forgetting the curse on the store, I ventured in to make my purchase. The shelf was completely empty! I started to laugh out loud and said “of course”. Until the other night, that was the last time I ever ventured into a Target.

Now here in Killeen; Harker Heights actually, there is a new shopping center. Very nice and very large – Market Heights. This outdoor mall contains many shopping, eating and viewing opportunities, one of which is the new Target. On the way home the other night, Mom decided we needed to go in to see the store. It was larger than the old Killeen store, so she wanted to see what they had. I must admit, the facility was very nice, modern and clean. The shopping carts were something at which to marvel. All plastic and very quiet. While we were there, Mom mentioned she had forgot to stop at Walgreen’s to pick up some aftershave lotion for me and thought she could just pick some up here. I made my flippant remark about them not having any and we proceeded to the isle where the shaving things were. We found lots of brands of shaving cream, lot of different razors, tons of deodorant, BUT NOT A SINGLE BOTTLE OF AFTERSHAVE! I couldn’t believe it! We looked and looked, up one isle and down another. When we decided we wouldn’t find any, we looked for a clerk. We found one in the front of the store and she said that all they had was out on the selves. I started laughing out loud. I was amazing to me that I apparently have the ability to put this curse on Target.

Now, in all fairness to Target, Mom went back and climbing to the top shelf, and way in the back of the shelf, she found 3 bottles of Aqua Velva – but only 3 and all of one size. But to the average shopper, there would have been none. I would not have climbed to the top shelf! BUT, now that this is brought to light, next time I venture into Target to buy some non-existent sale item, I am checking the top shelf first!

Memorial Day Swim

Yesterday was Memorial Day and, even though it is a day late, thank you
to all the veterans who happen to read this! On Memorial Day we
usually have a BBQ and swim in the pool. At the end of last week it was
"iffy" as to whether or not the pool would be ready. But, thanks to KFD, it
was.

I went down to the Killeen Water Department on Friday and picked up a
hydrant water meter ($650 deposit, which I get back today when I return
the meter, less the charge for the water). I went to the fire
department to see if I could borrow some 1 ½ inch fire hose to fill my pool.
The Lieutenant I spoke with told me that the only person who could
authorize the loaning of the hose was on leave, so I was out of luck. BUT, he
said he could send a fire truck over to fill the pool. GREAT! So when
I got home from work, Holly and I (mostly Holly) finished pressure
washing the pool and pumping out the old water. We got most of it out, but
there was a little we could not get because of the time factor. When
the fire truck arrived (lots of looks from the neighbors), the fire crew
used a 2 ½ inch hose, and had the pool filled in an hour and thirty
five minutes! Only problem, the water was brown! No problem I assured
everyone, who looked at me skeptically. I tested the water before I
treated it and found the PH level to be extremely high. No problem, when I
shocked the pool I would add a half gallon of muriatic acid, which
brings down the PH. But, when I went to get a gallon of acid, I couldn't
find it. So I just shocked the pool. The next morning the brown water had
turned to green. Now the skeptics were out in full force. I tested the
water and the shock had brought the PH level way down, so I actually
had to add PH increaser. A few hours later, I added some flock to clear
the water. On Sunday morning the water was crystal clear and BLUE! I am
so good! Then on Memorial Day I vacuumed the pool and now it is blue,
clear and swimmable.

We had been invited to Brett and Cindy's for a Memorial Day BBQ, but
Mom had worked and was very tired. I was doing the yard and was beat
myself. So we begged off going. Then at the last minute, Heather changers
her plans and had a BBQ. so we walked over and had dinner. Earlier in
the late afternoon, I was in the house cooling off and resting a bit when
Tyler came in and asked if they could swim in the pool and use the
diving board. I told them sure, and then went out and joined them. Later,
Maddie came and I swam with her. After an hour, older kids decided to
go back over to McCourt's Pool. A few minutes later, Kimber and Maddie
went to Heather's too. I got dressed and Mom and I went over then, for
dinner. So we had a BBQ and went swimming on Memorial Day...tradition
unbroken.

Next big thing is when Hilary and her kiddos come down for a couple of
weeks. The pool will be ready!

SWIMMING POOL

Definition: Swimming Pool – a hole in the ground into which you continually throw money.

I have heard of pants wearing out; and I have heard of shoes wearing out; I have even been worn out myself. But who ever heard of water wearing out. Does it feel dry when it is worn out? I don’t know. Actually, I did know water could wear out. When I was in the pool business we warned people about their water getting to the point where you couldn't’t control it. This happened more in hot tubs with the constant heating, but it also happens to pools. There is a test that can be run to test for chlorine demand, but in the end it us usually cheaper to drain the pool and refill it than it is to bring it back up with chemicals.

I was unable to properly care for the pool this year because I was laid up with my knee. So the pool got out of hand. The water looked like it came from Belton Lake, and smelled that way too. Scott and I shocked it and got it looking good. Before I could clean the pool, here came the rains. Nothing will use up available chlorine in the water faster than a good rain dumping all those contaminants into the water. So after the rain, we shocked it again. Then came round two of the rain. Last Wednesday evening I super shocked the pool. Then on Saturday I shocked it again and added PH increase and flock. When I tested the water on Monday I got a negative reading. The reading should have been off the chart with the amount of chemical I put it, but it was not showing any chlorine and the PH was still extremely low. I decided that it was enough and I got out the old pump and drained the pool. Last night Shawn Mc and I used our pressure washers and pressure washed the pool. We have just a little to finish up tonight. Then I will go to the city and get a hydrant meter and hook it up to the fire hydrant and, using 200 feet of 1 ¾ hose, I will fill the pool. It takes 4 hours this way, compared to 5 days with a hose. And bulk water from a hydrant is much cheaper than coming thru the hose. The meter I get from the city attaches to the hydrant and measures the water we use. With any luck, the pool will be ready for swimming by Saturday.

Mother's Day Talk

This is Mother’s Day, the day we honor our Mothers and the Mothers of our Children.

Brother Lower must be having a “pay back” day for something I must have done because I know he knows that there is no way I will get thru this talk without tears.

The Mothers role in life is one of the most important. President Harold B. Lee said, “The most important part of the Lord’s work that you will do, is the work that you do within the walls of your own home”. You mothers struggle each day to balance your lives between children and everything else, and it is not an easy task. I know because I have had to pinch-hit for my wife on more than one occasion. One time was when my oldest daughter was twelve; it was a Saturday evening and time for baths and hair. Now, I had watched Jannie put curlers in the girl’s hair for years, so I figured I could do it. Heidi still has nightmares of the results. If you were to ask her today about it, she will have flashbacks, “And he made me go to Church”. I am reminded of what I was once told; The Lord never promised life would be easy, only that it would be worth it. Elder Ballard gave a beautiful talk at the last General conference titled “Daughters of God. Among the wonderful points he made, he said, “There is no one perfect way to be a good mother. Each situation is unique. Each mother has different challenges, different skills and abilities, and certainly different children. The choice is different and unique for each mother and each family”.

One of the best examples to me of the results of motherhood is the story of Helaman’s Stripling Warriors. Now, my wife is nervous about now because I have a joke I tell about them, and she asked me not to use it, so I will refrain today. Helaman was asked to lead this band of 2000 young warriors…The Army of Helaman. These young men had great testimonies of the Lord and knew their cause was just. When Helamen asked these young men about their faith, they responded that their mothers had taught them.
In Alma 56:47 we read, “Now they never had fought, yet they did not fear death; and they did think more upon the liberty of their fathers than they did upon their lives; yea, they had been taught by their mothers, that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them.”
And in 57:21, “Yea, and they did obey and observe to perform every word of command with exactness; yea, and even according to their faith it was done unto them; and I did remember the words which they said unto me that their mothers had taught them.”

When Brother Lower asked me to speak today he told me that he knew I had a wonderful relationship with my own mother and thought I could share a few stories about her. Right off, I can say without a doubt that she was probably the gentlest person I’ve known.

I am the oldest of my Mothers three children, and the only one still living. My brother, Henry died when he was 8 years old; and my sister, Evelyn when she was 32. In 2000 when I was diagnosed with cancer in my right eye, she bemoaned her fate saying that she wasn’t supposed to outlive her children. Obviously, I survived my bout with cancer. When she was 80, in 1998, she moved into our home where we could help care for her. What a blessing it was to have her with us, and what a close relationship my younger children were able to develop with their Grandmother. She was with us until December 2000, when she passed away in her room. I have many, many stories I could tell about her, but I have picked just three, to show the influence she had, not only in my life, but in the lives of my children.

Who would ever think that their Mother was a pool shark? We were vacationing at the beach in Capitola when I was about fourteen. There was a penny arcade in Capitola where we kids spent some time. This was before video games, but we could play pool. It cost a dime a game. I would play a few games everyday and I thought I was pretty good. One afternoon I was at the arcade when my mother came in looking for me. She watched me play pool and listened to me tell her how great I was at the game. So she challenged me to a game. This would be great, I thought, and immediately accepted her challenge. After all, what fourteen year old boy doesn’t look for the chance to crush and adult in anything? I even let her break. She then almost cleared the table. I think I got one turn before she finished me off. Stunned, I asked her where she learned to play pool. When my Dad with was in the Army, she used to play pool a lot at the Officers club with the other wives. I was schooled. I don’t think I was so braggadocios after that. With a game of pool, she had taught me humility.

My oldest daughter, Heidi, told me the other day of her story with her Grandmother. When we lived in Alaska, Heidi was 13. Gramma had come to spend a few weeks with us, as she did often when we were up there. Gramma loved movies and she and Heidi were going to go one afternoon. There was a movie playing that Heidi wanted to see, but Gramma said that she was afraid that Heidi wouldn’t understand the movie. So they saw something else. Heidi told me that now she is 38 and has never seen that movie. She said that it comes on television quite often and she is always going to watch it. But, when she sits down to watch, she remembers her grandmother telling her that she wouldn’t understand it. So she turns the TV off.

My mother was very conservative and a proud Republican. I tell you this to set up the following story. She also enjoyed playing the devil’s advocate. A few months before she died, and during the 2000 election season between then Governor Bush and Vice President Gore, she and my son, Brett, were having some discussion at the dinner table, in which Brett seemed to be gaining the point. She looked right at him and said “Why, you’re no better than Al Gore! Brett was stunned and we all laughed. Brett told me a story recently when I was sitting with him at his new office. He had told this story to me before, but felt to share it again that evening. Gramma visited Brett shortly after she died. He will not say he had a vision, but he had a dream in which his Grandmother came to him and told him that she loved him. She was smiling. She was afraid that he might have thought that she was mad at him. After they talked for a minute or two, Brett asked her if she had seen Evelyn and Henry. He said that she looked forlorn and then said that she had and that they were well. Brett learned that she regretted that she had spent most of her adult life mourning their deaths; that she had missed out on so much happiness in this life because she was always so sad. And all along, they were well.

To me, one of the greatest examples of Motherhood comes from my wife, Jannie. We had 8 children, and it was not easy. I was in the Army, and was enlisted, and though I was fortunate in that I didn’t have many long deployments, I did have a couple, and a few TDYs along the way. Elder Ballard said, “We need to remember that the full commitment of motherhood and of putting children first can be difficult”. Jannie made her full time job being a full time Mom. This was her commitment to her family. As the Priesthood holder, husband and father, I presided in the home. But, as wife and mother, she conducted. She was the organizer and kept our home and our children immaculate. She took time to teach her children. We always had music in our home, although the only musical instrument either one of us played was the Stereo. She used music to teach. She had all of the Janine Brady cassettes and my kids knew all the words of all the songs. “I’m a Mormon, yes I am”, Be a Friend, The Words You Speak, and Maybe You Laughed. We sang songs about telling the truth and not being afraid. Today, some of my children are teaching their children these same lessons and using the same songs. And for the most part, my daughters and daughters – in – law, learning from Jannie, have chosen to be stay at home moms, or to work from the home. When I was deployed to Korea for a year, she took the time to record Family Home Evenings, and then send me the cassettes. I would get cassette tapes of weekly Family Home Evenings, and listen to my children talk to me. I think the first words I heard Hilary utter was on one of those cassettes. Without a lot of money to work with, Jannie made sure our children were always neatly dressed and pressed and well fed. And she could stretch a dollar better than anyone I ever knew.

Elder Ballard said, “I am impressed by countless mothers who have learned how important it is to focus on the things that can only be done in a particular season of life,” What a joy it is for me to see the growth in my Grandchildren every day. I am in awe with the time my daughters and daughters-in-law take to teach their children. Jared is 15 months old and Valerie has taught him how to sign. When we were tending him the other night, we were impressed that he could communicate in sign language when he wanted a drink, or that he has had enough. At the football game last evening, Jared spent most of the evening with Mimi and Grandpa. When we gave him back to Val, he signed “thank you”. I wish we had known that we could have taught our own kids to sign when they were babies. Maddie seems to me to be far beyond her years (maybe I am just a proud Grandpa), and this comes from the things Kimber takes time to teach her. I can’t help but chuckle when I think of the stories all my children to tell me about the things their kids have done. And these stories are not just limited to my children and Grandchildren. Kids today are growing up far ahead of where children were just a generation ago. And this because you Mothers are recognizing the seasons of life that your children are in.

When Gramma lived with us, Scott was her driver. She wasn’t supposed to drive anymore, so if she needed to go somewhere she had Scott take her. Boy, where the older kids jealous. Scott was sixteen and driving her Lincoln! The night before she died, it snowed here in Killeen. Scott helped her outside so she could see the big snow flakes. The next morning, after we found that she had passed away, we notified the authorities. During the time before the ambulance took her, Scott sat by her bed and held her hand. What a great influence she had on our children. Now, each year, on the anniversary of her death, the family gathers at her grave and remembers Gramma.

Elder Ballard asked this question: What can you do, as a young mother, to reduce the pressure and enjoy your family more?

Recognize that the joy of motherhood comes in moments. There will be hard times and frustrating times. But amid the challenges, there are shining moments of joy and satisfaction.

Author Anna Quindlen reminds us not to rush past the fleeting moments. She said: “The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less”(Loud and Clear [2004], 10–11).
Mothers make things. School projects, lunches, snacks, desserts, arrangements, and even clothes. One thing I challenge you mothers (and fathers) to do is make memories for your children. On Sunday evenings after dinner, the smaller children like to go in the front yard and play. So Mimi and Grandpa will sit out on the front porch so the little ones can romp and play in the front yard. You see, we want the memories our grandchildren have to be the happy times they had at Mimi’s house. The older ones like to swim and on days they are over to use the pool, we get in with them. Ask any of my grandchildren what all the steps are in doing an Olympic class cannonball, and their faces will brighten up as they remember and tell you all the steps, of which there are not a few. There are times my own children, now all adults will sit at the dinner table, or wherever we may be and someone will say “do you remember when, or do you remember this or that?” In many cases, I don’t. But the important thing is that they do. Make memories with your children.

If my mother were alive to give you some advice, I can’t help but think it would be this: Mothers, love your children. Teach your children. Help build their faith. Be a part of their lives. Don’t spend half your life bemoaning things you’ve missed. Mourn the tragedies, then let yourself heal and then live your life and don’t miss out on the fun times with your family. Then, when your children are grown and face obstacles in their lives, like those young men in The Army of Helaman, they will remember that they, too, were taught by their mothers.

May this be a joyous day for all the Mothers here today, and everywhere. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen

My Night at the Pizzeria

I wasn’t going to the Pizzeria today until 5 pm when I was to deliver an Italian Cream Cake. I have been at the Pizzeria every day for over two months, ever since I injured my knee. Most days I worked the register because that was all I could do. We sat a high bar-type stool at the register and I would sit there and ring in the patrons orders. We started out with a cash register and order tickets I had to write out. Then the POS (point of sale) system came on line and life got easier at the register. A touch screen allowed me to just touch the entrée, or pizza. I could touch Spaghetti and Meat Balls or a Primo Pizza. Add two sodas and the total was displayed. Very nice. BUT, I wasn’t going to be there today!

I had plans. I was going to fix a leaky water faucet. I was going to fix my ovens in the kitchen. I was going to make that Italian Cream Cake and a dessert for the social at the Church tonight. And I was going to the social at the Church this evening with some of my grandchildren. So, the Pizzeria was the furthest thing from my mind. I was working on the oven when the phone rang. It was Chad. “Can you come out and deliver an order for me at One Killeen Center?” Reluctantly I agreed. Mostly because I needed to go to the Pizzeria and pick up some lard for the cake, and the delivery was near the house, and I could use the tip for spending money. So, off to the Pizzeria I went.

I arrived and loaded the order into the car, along with a tub of lard (I always thought that was my nick name growing up.) But, as I was leaving, Chad asked me to come back because there was another order to be delivered to Sears at the Mall. I said okay. I delivered the lunch to the office in the One Killeen Center building and got stiffed on the tip. Returning to the Pizzeria, I was willing to just cover the register if Chad made the delivery to Sears. Getting stiffed once in a day is once too often. BUT, I acquiesced and took the delivery to Sears. I got a good tip this time. I took the payment back out and put it in the register and headed for home.

At home I jumped right in and made that Italian Cream Cake and the dessert for the social. Because I had grandchildren at the house, I called Chad and ordered a couple of pizzas for dinner. I told him that I was on a tight schedule and would pick up the pizzas at 5 when I delivered the cake. And I did. And all went well. We had pizza for dinner and I was about to go change my clothers for the social. Then the phone rang.

“Dad, I really need you out here. I have 10 tickets hanging and a line”. So Jannie went to the social, and I went to the Pizzeria. Now, I am not complaining, mind you. I was only there for an hour or so and still made it to the social before it was over. But my experience there tonight is the subject of this writing. I was in awe tonight at what I saw. I have worked there for months, but tonight was pure poetry in motion. It was a symphony being conducted by a master conductor. Chad was in his element.

He had the line working, and was even short staffed. But he directed like a master. “Three eggplant parms all day,” he shouted as the order was coming up from the printer. “How is that Bruschetta coming?” or “Bread coming out of the oven”. Then he announces to the “audience” (dining room), “Spaghetti and meatballs, Chicken Parmigiana for Richard”. This went on for the entire time I was there. For me, it was worth the time I was there to see this production.

I don’t mean to make it sound like this is the exception to the rule, because this goes on every night at the Pizzeria. Just that tonight it just struck me as something beautiful to behold. As I said, Poetry in Motion.

Henry James

I really don’t know how to write about Henry James. His is such a sad story and it breaks my heart when I think of his short, pain filled life. I don’t have a lot of stories to tell because there were not a lot of happy incidents that come to mind. He was born on November 10, 1955 in San Jose, California. He was loved greatly and I remember he had huge eyes and a captivating smile. He was born a few months before his cousin; Lisa Susan Magnon Scherer was born on April 30, 1957.

He was not quite a year old when we moved to Dallas in the fall of 1956. We lived in the house my parents rented before they purchased the home two doors down. At about 3 PM on April 2, 1957, a Category 3 tornado hit Dallas. My mother was in the kitchen and had told me to watch Henry as I watched TV in the den. Evelyn was also in the den watching TV. An announcement on TV warned of the tornado. I ran and told Mom and she tuned in the radio to KLIF and listened to the Tornado Warning. We were told to go to a shelter or into the smallest room in the center of the house. That was the hallway. Sitting in the hall, Mom held Henry and Evelyn and I huddled together. Mom couldn’t hear the radio very well, but was afraid to go to her bedroom to turn it up. Finally she broke to the radio and turned it up.

It was about that time when Evelyn and Henry came down with the Chicken Pox. Evelyn was covered with spots, but Henry had only a couple of pock marks. He hardly was sick during that bout. Between then and our moving back to California after my Dad lost his job with Slick Airways, I have almost no memories of Henry James.

We moved back to San Jose in the spring of 1958. We stayed with Aunt June for a few days. I remember waking up with my Mother screaming “MY BABY”. Aunt June wouldn’t let us come out of the bedroom. An ambulance arrived and left. It was the next morning I would learn that Henry James was taken to the hospital. He had gone into convulsions when my Mother started screaming. He stayed in the hospital for a few days and was diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes. He stayed in the hospital while the doctors regulated his insulin levels. He came home after a few days and apparently didn’t have many more problems at that time.

We went to Clear Lake, CA on vacation some time later. Aunt Bell had a place there and they let us go up there for a few days. I had been there with Aunt June and Uncle Lee sometime earlier. I must have been 15 because Evelyn was 12, and that is a whole other story. Evelyn and I had a lot of fun. We went out in Uncle Jim’s boat and there was a dance almost every night in the park where we were staying. We had planned on staying longer than we did, but Henry got sick. He was in pain and she took him to a local doctor. When they got back, we packed up and headed back home. He was admitted to the hospital again. He was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis.
This disease would take its toll on his frail body. He was in and out of the hospital several times, then seemed to settle down and he came home and went back to school. He was 6 and in the First Grade.

One of my favorite memories of Henry, perhaps the only one, happened one summer day when we were at home. Our house was not air conditioned, like most homes in Central California then, so we had a screen door on the front, back and patio doors. I was sitting on the front porch steps doing something. Henry was in the living room on the other side of the screen, and we were talking. As we were talking, a girl about 16 walks by the house on the sidewalk. At the top of his lungs he yells, “HELLO THERE CUTIE!” She looked up and kept walking. She could not see through the screen door, so all she saw was me. Had no idea who she was, never saw her again, as far as I know, but I could have crawled under a rock and just died. She never said a word, He thought that was the funniest thing he ever did.

It is sad, but that is about the only thing I remember about Henry without him being in the hospital. Evelyn and I could never go see him while he was in the hospital in San Jose because of the rules about kids going into the hospital. A few months after the incident at the screen door, he had another health crisis and was back in the hospital. It seems that the treatment for the diabetes and the RA conflicted. Every time the doctor’s got one disease under control, the other flared up. His little body was showing signs of the RA. His joints were huge. He spent several weeks in the hospital, then came home. He went back to school again, but only for a short time. Then he was admitted again. This time the doctor made arrangements for him to be transferred to the Stanford Children’s Hospital at Stanford University. He would never come home.

The doctors at SCH tried to regulate the two diseases, but made very little headway. He seemed, in fact, to be worsening. At some point, because of the intense affect on his body, his immune system began to shut down. He was diagnosed with Relapsing Polychondritis a disease that causes inflammation of the joints, particularly the cartilage. As I have read some about this disease, it is rare and the symptoms could easily be mistaken for RA. I wonder if he wasn’t misdiagnosed from the beginning.

My mother would drive to SCH every day to spend time with Henry. Evelyn and I were teenagers and spent a lot of time home alone. On Saturdays we went up to the hospital with Mom, We also went on some Sundays, but usually we stayed home. I remember how frail he was. He laid in bed all day and had developed bedsores. Mom had gotten him a sheep skin to lie on, but it only helped somewhat. If he wanted to sit up in a chair, I would carry him. He could no longer walk. On some visits we could actually take him on an outing for an hour or so. We would load him up in the car and put his wheel chair in the trunk. Then we would go to the mall and walk around and buy him some ice cream. Once we took him to Crystal Springs Reservoir so he could be out doors for a little while. I remember picking him up so he could see something and could feel his heart just racing. I thought how it was not right for his heart to be racing that fast.

At the hospital I would play cars with him. He had lots of Hot Wheels. He was in great pain and I would hold his arm or leg and softly tickle his foot or arm. It relieved the pain to have his foot tickled. When I came in he always wanted me to tickle his foot.

It was about 10 PM one evening after Mom had come home from the hospital. The phone rang and Mom answered it in the kitchen. I heard her call out and collapse on the floor. I took the phone and it was the doctor. He told me that Henry “had expired” a few minutes earlier. Then he told me we needed to make arrangements to have him picked up before the morning. I remember how impersonal he seemed, and how incredulous I was. First, I called the mortuary and made arrangements to have him picked up. Then I called my Dad. He had been talking to Mom earlier that evening and thought it was the operator calling him back. He said he would fly out the next day.

His funeral was three days later at the San Jose Stake Center. I remember the chapel was about half full with family and friends. Henry had an open casket and at the end of the service those present passed by him, paying their last respects. As the family lingered, I stood by his casket and thought how peaceful he looked. As I began to leave, I laid his favorite toy in the casket with him – a little brown monkey with a yellow t-shirt with red letters across the front spelling the monkey’s name – Zip. He was buried at the Santa Clara County Cemetery, next to his Great Grandmother.

I remember how upset I was over his passing. I remember his frail body and the pain he was in. I would hear people say he was in a better place, that he was no longer in pain. I wanted to believe those things I professed to be true, but he was the first person I was close to who died. The night of the funeral I went to bed and Henry appeared to me in a dream. I remember is as vividly now as I did when it happened when I was 18. He stood at the foot of my bed and said that I shouldn’t be sad, that he was okay now. He moved his arms and legs to show me he was without pain. I woke and had a peaceful feeling come over me. I have never doubted since. Years later I would have that same peaceful feeling again, in the Dallas Temple, when I was diagnosed with cancer…but this is not about me,



I have written about Evelyn and Henry. My mother never got over their loss. She mourned Henry all the rest of her life and Evelyn from when she died.

I don’t know how to end this, so I will just say that I wish I could have known Henry James better – and as an adult.