tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52445433950059680932024-02-02T11:59:14.412-06:00Oelkers' Odysseymemories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-8060786343531516742018-08-19T16:57:00.001-05:002018-08-19T16:57:51.187-05:00A Christlike Attribute
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I spoke at church today. I attend the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. It is part of our routine for members of the congregation to be invited to speak and provided with a general topic. The following text is the t talk I gave today. </div>
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In Matt. 11:29 the Savior says “Take my yoke upon you, and
learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart and ye shall find rest unto your
souls”.</div>
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My assignment is to speak about a Christlike attribute and
given Elder Bednar’s talk from the April General Conference Titled <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Meek and Lowly of Heart.</i> So, it seems
that of the many attributes the Savior exemplified, meekness is today’s topic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It might possibly top the list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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So, what is meekness?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A world view might equate meekness with weakness, or lack of
confidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It might be thought of as
apathy. He entreated us to “take his yoke upon ourselves”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This imagery intrigues me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A yoke is a beam of wood carved to fit across
the shoulders of two beasts of burden – usually oxen or possibly horses. It
binds the two animals together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are we
to think of ourselves as beasts of burden?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Are we to see the Savior’s “yoke” as something to bind us and restrain
us?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What else does a yoke do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Individually an ox can pull its own weight
between 1500 and 3000 pounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two oxen
yoked together who work in tandem can pull up to 13000 pounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, with the Savior as my yokemate I can
manage tasks that would otherwise be insurmountable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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He also says “take up my yoke and learn of me”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An inexperienced ox yoked to an experienced
one will learn from that guidance and association.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A weak animal can be strengthened by being yoked to a strong one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you think about it, can you think of a
more humbling, sacred, experience than to be bound in such a way that you walk
side by side with Jesus Christ?</div>
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So, again, what is meekness?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is being willing to do the work without insisting that I have the
control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is working beside the Lord
or any of his servants in a spirit of cooperation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Picture what happens if you yoke two mules
together and they each want to drive the wagon.</div>
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Elder Bednar said that meekness is characterized by: 1) righteous responsiveness, 2) willing submissiveness, and 3) strong self restraint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Elder Bednar relates the following story from
the Book of Mormon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moroni was the
captain of the Nephite armies who were besieged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wrote multiple letters home – to Pahoran
asking/pleading for support for his troops but the support does not come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally, in frustration he sends a letter to
Pahoran condemning him and the other government leaders as slothful,
neglectful, and uncaring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Promising dire
retribution from the Lord.</div>
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It turned out that Pahoran had been forced to flee into the
land of Gideon taking as many men as he could, leaving Zarahemla under Lamanite occupation. Pahoran was not in any position to
assist Moroni’s army.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can just picture
Pahoran in temporary living quarters, possibly wounded, surely having lost
nearly everything including people he cared about, receiving this letter of censure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it were me, I’m afraid my temper would get
the better of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Pahoran says this:</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Alma 62:9 And now, in your epistle you have censured me, but it
mattereth not; I am not angry, but do rejoice in the greatness of your heart.
I, Pahoran, do not seek for power, save only to retain my judgment-seat that I
may preserve the rights and the liberty of my people. My soul standeth fast in
that liberty in the which God hath made us free.</span></div>
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Let’s check his response for meekness:</div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Righteous
responsiveness – does he tell Moroni to take a long walk off a short pier?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, it seems pretty righteous to me that
he was able to respond at all.” No, Pahoran “rejoices” in Moroni’s “greatness
of heart”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He doesn’t think "I will just
forgive him for all his faults", he sees and recognizes Moroni’s strength.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He takes the time and has the wisdom to know
where the passionate pleas were coming from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is easy to dismiss people when they are in the wrong and go off
feeling smug that you were the right one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is far more difficult to recognize and empathize with a person’s
intent even when they are wrong.</div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Willing submissiveness – Pahoran isn’t lamenting
his loss of status or power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He doesn’t “seek
for power” just to be able to protect and serve his people.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Strong self restraint – well, nuff said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that one speaks for itself.</div>
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Jesus referred to himself as “lowly of heart”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes the language in the scriptures just
confuses the heck out of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why on
earth would I want to be “lowly of heart” And just what does that mean anyway.</div>
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In a general conference talk from 2007, Bruce D. Porter of
the Seventy said of being lowly of heart: “<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Those who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit are
willing to do anything and everything that God asks of them.” I contend that to
be “lowly of heart” is to be humble and teachable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m a teacher.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is my job to teach those students who react
to the world with anger and distrust.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Many of my students don’t believe in themselves or anyone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a kind of hopeless, helpless pride that
destroys all efforts at learning and the only way to get past it is to firmly
and lovingly gain control of the student’s environment to make it an undeniably safe place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would be fair to say that the metaphor of
the yoke applies once again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need to
be that student’s partner, guide and advocate so that they can be safe enough
to let their broken hearts show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
the contrite spirit follows and the learning begins.</span></div>
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Preach my Gospel</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Humility is willingness to submit to the will of the Lord
and to give the Lord the honor for what is accomplished. It includes <a href="https://www.lds.org/topics/gratitude/"><span style="color: blue;">gratitude</span></a>
for His blessings and acknowledgment of your constant need for His divine help.
Humility is not a sign of weakness; it is a sign of spiritual strength. When
you humbly trust Him and acknowledge His power and mercy, you can have the
assurance that His commandments are for your good. You are confident that you
can do whatever the Lord requires of you if you rely on Him. You are also
willing to trust His chosen servants and follow their counsel. Humility will
help you as you strive to be obedient, to work hard, and to serve selflessly.</span></div>
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Okay, if we take up his yoke and are meek and humble what
then?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the way the Savior always
gives a promise along with his admonition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If we follow the word of wisdom we will be able to “run and not be weary
and walk and not faint.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we “do
always remember him” we will “have his spirit to be with us” And, as the quote
says, if we take up his yoke, in a spirit of meekness and humility, we “shall
find rest unto our souls”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hmm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do I want “rest unto my soul?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and when does that happen?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it a description of my eternal reward after
death or is it a promise for some time sooner?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">President Joseph F. Smith said: “To my mind, it means entering
into the knowledge and love of God, having faith in his purpose and in his
plan, to such an extent that we know we are right, and that we are not hunting
for something else, we are not disturbed by every wind of doctrine, or by the
cunning and craftiness of men who lie in wait to deceive. We know of the
doctrine that it is of God, and we do not ask any questions of anybody about
it; they are welcome to their opinions, to their ideas and to their vagaries.
The man who has reached that degree of faith in God that all doubt and fear
have been cast from him, he has entered into ‘God’s rest’” </span></div>
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See, my theory on the plan of salvation is that this earth is
a training ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are here to learn
the skills (or attributes) of the Savior and become like him and each time we
gain one of those skills we also reap the benefits from those skills
immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we gain and become adept
at approaching life’s challenges in meekness we will be comforted and calm in
the face of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes the Lord
calms the sea but sometimes he calms the sailor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t find where that quote came from
but I may have to have it tattooed somewhere to remind me to partake of God’s
rest.</div>
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In closing, I bear witness the Savior knows about and cares
about all of our challenges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wants to
guide us, he has invited us to walk beside Him to learn his methods and feel
his love.</div>
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</style>memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-79960136592123069932017-08-23T16:39:00.001-05:002017-08-23T16:39:24.010-05:00#52 Stories - FAIL <span style="font-size: large;"><b>F</b>irst</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>A</b>ttempt</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I</b>n</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>L</b>earning</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The question posed is "What role has failure played in your efforts to achieve your goals?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm no stranger to failure and can easily attest to the value of tearing down a thing so that what is subsequently built back up is stronger. When I was a senior in high school I went to school for one class (Civics) and then drove from Lake Tahoe to Reno (actually Sparks) to go to the Prater Way School of Cosmetology. I did this every day until graduation. After I completed the courses I worked in the beauty shop at the MGM Grand until Anna was born. Then we moved to Winnemucca, NV. I worked first at Judy's and then at the Scissors' Palace, and last at a shop whose name I can't recall. I left Judy's when Brenda was born, I left the Scissors' Palace because I was not making enough money to pay for the gas to get there, and I left the last one because I couldn't get along with the owner. It is tempting to roll out all of the reasons and wherefores but the bottom line is that I really didn't succeed at cosmetology. I had a number of other jobs over the years to keep the bills paid. They weren't intended to move me closer to my goals, just to keep the wolf from the door. I tried a number of ways to supplement the money I made, cake decorating, sewing, ironing, delivering balloons. I could add a few dollars but not make a living.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Lesson #1 - I am not a salesperson. I could have made lots more money as a hairdresser (cosmetologist) if I had been able to sell my services and the shop products to people. I had the skill - there were never any complaints about the work I did but it was not enough.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After we moved to American Fork I got serious about wanting to go back to school. I applied at BYU and was rejected so I went to Utah Valley Community College for one semester. Then my husband died and the kids and I moved to Sandy, Ut. I enrolled in the University of Utah majoring in Psychology. My original goal was to become a psychologist (requires a PhD.) I got good grades and in the meantime changed my goal to Social Work. So I applied to the School of Social Work. I was denied. After that I decided to become a Child Life Specialist. I finished a dual degree in Psychology and Human Development and Family Studies with a 3.84 GPA. Then I began an unpaid internship at the Primary Children's Hospital. It was really a struggle for me. I am a shy person. This job required me to work with many, many different professionals as well as children who were critically, sometimes fatally, ill. I wasn't good at it and I was asked to leave. This failure broke my heart. I did LOTS of praying after this experience because I had sincerely loved working with the children. By this time I had remarried and was again active in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. One of the great blessings of the church is the opportunity to serve in callings that give you experience in a variety of areas. I served in many teaching capacities. As I served in the Primary (children ages 3 to 12) people said to me "You are so good with the children. You should become a teacher." I always responded, "No, I don't want to do that". I went to work part time in a drug and alcohol treatment center for adolescents. Nope, that particular place wasn't my niche either. Then I worked for United Cerebral Palsy (and I delivered pizza in the evenings). I caught some flack about U of U graduates becoming pizza delivery drivers but I loved the work with the families and children of UCP.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In February of 1999 I moved to Minnesota. I went to work for Adventures Plus, a school age day care program run by the Community Education branch of Anoka Hennepin School District. That worked for awhile, until it didn't. Again, I enjoyed the kids. I ended up working as a paraprofessional at Hamilton Elementary in North Minneapolis. I loved it, but the teachers there encouraged me to get my teaching license. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Lesson #2 - It is often necessary to refine my goals. Sometimes it is necessary to completely redefine my goals. Sometimes it is necessary to get out of my own way and listen to the message the Lord is sending me and let him direct my goals. At age 40 I had finally figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up. My joy is to teach. (Duh!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Minnesota has stiff requirements to get a teaching license. The number of courses I needed to complete to qualify for a teaching license was enough to get me a master's degree in education. I completed the courses at Saint Mary's for a teaching degree in education and was licensed to teach Kindergarten through 8th grade with a language arts focus for middle school. These courses were completed in the evenings while I continued to work at Hamilton. When it came time to student teach I was loathe to give up my job at Hamilton so I could student teach for 6 weeks full time without pay. I proposed a plan to my supervisor at Saint Mary's where I would spend part of my day at Hamilton student teaching. It required me to devise a schedule to cover the necessary time and competencies for the course. This needed to be approved by supervisors in both settings. It was an unprecedented approach to student teaching. I'm still proud of the assertiveness it required for me to propose and complete such a plan.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lesson #3 - I learned problem solving and perseverance. It is always necessary to explore options. Being told no is neither scary nor shaming.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At that time, it was difficult to find a job as a new teacher. The baby boomers who were expected to begin retiring had lost ground in their retirement plans because of the "economic downturn". So they kept working. The Minneapolis School district was downsizing to the tune of $90 million dollars. Hamilton hired me to teach Kindergarten for a year and then the school was closed. I went to the job fairs and applied for dozens of jobs in more than 7 school districts. I was trying to avoid AH11 because I had left Adventures Plus in failure mode. Finally I admitted defeat and applied to the largest school district in the state for a job. What I quickly learned was that special education teachers were getting hired. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I went back to school. (See lesson #2 - He wasn't done with me yet) I was hired as a special education teacher to work half time at Madison Elementary and half time at Morris Bye Elementary on a licensure variance while I completed my teaching license in special education with an Emotional Behaviors Disorders (EBD) focus. Again, this was enough coursework to qualify me for a second masters. I declined to finish the final piece for the masters at either school because I was afraid it would price me out of the running as a second year teacher. The principal at Madison Elementary was Cindy Hitt. I thought she was a control freak but (thank the Lord) I was mature enough by then to try to learn from her controlling ways. I learned a lot from Cindy Hitt and she became a mentor and a friend. I also gained two more of my closest friends, Amy Franke and Laura Voorhees. Both of these ladies went out of their way to help me succeed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lesson #4 - Allow people to help. (I still struggle with this one)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Once I went to work, I was too busy to finish the thesis required for my masters. I worked at Madison Elementary until 2012. For 3 of those years I was the Special Education department lead for the building. A new principal and a new department lead at Madison marked the time for me to move on. Morris Bye also had a new principal and needed an EBD centerbase teacher. Centerbase (CB) classes are setting III. This means that the students spend 60% or more of their time in the CB classroom apart from their non-disabled peers. I spent 4 years in this setting. It was hard. I could go on and on about how difficult this setting was but that is not the focus of this entry. In the end, I failed in a spectacular way. I had a full emotional breakdown. I was suicidal and afraid I would hurt one of the children. I could not stop crying. I took a medical leave of absence and got some counseling. I discovered what real friendship is at this point. My friends rallied around, we had lunch dates and chats on the phone. One friend swooped in and taught my primary lesson (with about 10 min. notice) because I had a meltdown at church. My friends who are teachers or administrators gave me good advice and I received help from the teachers' union. It was the absolute hardest thing I've ever done and that is saying something (but that's another story). When I was ready to return to work, the doctor did not release me to go back to the setting III. The district tried to say that this meant I was disabled and I would need to go on full disability at 70% of my salary. After conferring with the union the district agreed to allow me to sub until the end of the year and then apply during the in-house application window to find a new job. The only way they would agree to this was with the caveat that if I failed to find another job I would have to leave the district. It was a horrible time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lesson #5 - Everybody has limits. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">During the job application window my mother was put in hospice care at my brother's house in Lake Tahoe. She died a few weeks later. My father had multiple surgeries for cancer, and I broke my ankle. In the meantime I applied for more than 40 positions without a single response. Some of my previous supervisors had heard that I was subbing and had contacted me to do some long term subbing at schools they worked at. The principal of the school where I was working in May had posted 3 positions so I applied for all of them and talked to him about my applications. When 2 of the positions had filled from outside the district I went back to him to remind him I'd applied. The teachers I was working with expressed the hope that I'd be returning. He did not respond to me but I received a call from the district that morning informing me that my application had been blocked at the district level. No one had seen any of my applications. The union had my back, though, and I had our agreements documented. It took a whole summer of wrangling, hand wringing, praying, and waiting but I was finally placed in Mississippi Elementary school as a resource teacher. The staff at Mississippi have become my friends. I'm happy there and am nearly back to my old self emotionally - older and much, much, wiser.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lesson #6 - God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reinhold_Niebuhr" title="Reinhold Niebuhr"> Reinhold Niebuhr</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know it seems like a dangerous thing to say outloud but I am grateful for my failures and my challenges. I have faith that my Father in Heaven has a plan for me and that my Savior will help me get there if I am willing to do my part. </span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-75790429511947069412017-08-14T17:41:00.000-05:002017-08-14T17:42:46.544-05:00#52 Stories - I can do it myself.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before the course</td></tr>
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My mother told me that my first full sentence was "I can do it myself". This week's question asks me to relate something I taught myself to do. There are a number of crafts, etc. that I have investigated and used books or the internet to teach myself to do them. I can't in honesty say I am good at many of them but I find joy in the learning process. When I get inspired by something I dive in. But I digress.<br />
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One of the things I basically learned on my own is how to decorate cakes. When my children were small I wanted to create wonderful, memorable cakes for their birthdays. I loved to bake and wanted to create beautiful things. As I mentioned, when I am inspired by something I tend to dive in. We lived in Winnemucca, NV. at the time. For the uninformed about western geography, Winnemucca is a smallish town in the middle of Nevada - a solid 200 miles from any dot on the map most people might have heard of. We didn't have a Michael's or any other place to take lessons but I did pick up a Wilton cake decorating magazine somewhere. I don't remember where at this point. The magazine offered a correspondence course in cake decorating! I had so much fun! One memorable practice cake I made was for one of our weekly game nights with the Browns. They came to our house to play cards, or Risk, or something of the kind (awesome memories). I think the cake looked pretty good but I had experimented with a cooked frosting recipe. When we went to cut it I actually had to break through the frosting to get to the cake - it was distinctly rocklike! HA! I've gathered up a few of my early efforts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEvv-Cz0UtRyQNnf6rHQ-19Iq6mfgMEcj1D6ynKoqC2t3zXrf8FLQ-FhSGWrxpDhl4kBtfqiWDNHCZm_UjE9DyGvyPyPEPN5OssXlV8QfA_E_ZLMh9oDGV788UrSnPImBcG2d40avvIbp/s1600/Brenda%2527s+Box003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="827" data-original-width="776" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEvv-Cz0UtRyQNnf6rHQ-19Iq6mfgMEcj1D6ynKoqC2t3zXrf8FLQ-FhSGWrxpDhl4kBtfqiWDNHCZm_UjE9DyGvyPyPEPN5OssXlV8QfA_E_ZLMh9oDGV788UrSnPImBcG2d40avvIbp/s320/Brenda%2527s+Box003.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brenda's 5th birthday cake. This was the "final exam" for the course.</td></tr>
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After that I started doing cakes for people who asked me to. When we moved to Utah I worked in a bakery in American Fork, then in a bakery in Smith's decorating cakes. After moving to Minnesota I was invited to teach Wilton cake decorating at one of the Michael's stores. It was lots of fun.<br />
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Here are a few of my more recent efforts:<br />
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-22269822288247438572017-08-06T19:01:00.000-05:002017-08-06T19:01:33.739-05:00#52stories - Goals & AchievementsMy Sunday School lesson today was on the blessings of keeping a personal journal. For a time, this blog was my journal so I am determined to resurrect my motivation to keep a personal journal. My goal is to write every Sunday afternoon (at least). In preparing for the lesson, I came across the #52stories movement on familysearch.org. They provided 12 questions under 12 different topics for people to write about to create a personal history. I love the writing prompts and encourage anyone who has talked about writing their personal history and hasn't gotten around to it to check it out. <br />
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The question I have chosen to answer today is: "<b>What is your earliest memory of feeling proud of yourself?"</b><br />
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I remember being an indifferent student at school during the primary years. I wanted to be liked but didn't care much about being good at school. I went to Kindergarten and first grade in Bountiful, Utah. I don't remember the name of the school, but I would bet that Diane Jensen does. By third grade I had begun to realize that I had the ability to be a good student. I remember feeling very good about getting good grades. I had also discovered that I liked to learn new things. I had moved to Lake Tahoe by then. I was attending Zephyr Cove Elementary School. I don't remember all of my teachers but my sixth grade teacher was Mr. Barsness. He was an encouraging teacher with a great sense of humor. He used to trade all of the silver dollars for paper ones when we paid for our lunches. He put the silver dollars in a coffee can until he had enough to buy a new radio. We were all anxiously watching the process and waiting for the new radio. Finally he had enough money and he bought this shiny new radio. First thing in the morning he caught all of our attention and turned it on. In those days radio's had to be tuned with a knob. All we heard was static until he began to turn the little knob. Then, clear as day the words "<br />Jockey Underwear" came singing from the speakers. We laughed so hard that some kids fell out of their seats. Mr. Barsness put his head down on his desk and laughed so hard that the blond hair on his scalp turned pink as his scalp turned bright red!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am 3rd from the right on the front row.</td></tr>
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-36631875973311835652016-05-22T22:05:00.000-05:002016-05-22T22:07:31.599-05:00A Tribute to My Mom.<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hazel Marian Smith Barnwell was my mother. She passed away last month and I was blessed to have the opportunity to clear up old business, enjoy some quality time, and say goodbye before she died.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My brother and I are all that is left of that particular family unit so we worked together to arrange a fitting sendoff for this unique woman. After the service several people asked me to send them copies of the talks and slideshow. I am posting that information here in order to share it with anyone who is interested.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxChsqXrUQlcM1w33aA3sAuPE8-RNXmqLx1cjPwJrcUk-B-SaU0Vseg0IT1tjY8TTCfid21G75uq0lHjljiMEt7V9RwjLgFLuj5-GcNu9VIfHDFDQhwobYVmHc7mIyrXsS3vfQDv169qo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-04-27+at+6.36.01+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxChsqXrUQlcM1w33aA3sAuPE8-RNXmqLx1cjPwJrcUk-B-SaU0Vseg0IT1tjY8TTCfid21G75uq0lHjljiMEt7V9RwjLgFLuj5-GcNu9VIfHDFDQhwobYVmHc7mIyrXsS3vfQDv169qo/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-04-27+at+6.36.01+AM.png" width="286" /></a><b>Life Sketch by Jan Oelkers</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For those of you who might not know me, I’m Jan – the middle
child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that, typically, a life
sketch includes all of the born to and married when info and I will give you a
little of that but most of all I want to discuss what being Marian’s daughter has
meant.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I tell a story I believe in portraying all of the
beauty of an event in the context of the painful in order to truly appreciate
the achievement when the final outcome leads to joy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So mom’s story is a poignant and beautiful one and I'm
grateful to have this opportunity to tell you why. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To begin, we are a “get it done” family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mother’s great great grandfather joined
the LDS church in Denmark and came to this country bringing with him a culture
of love and support for family that mom was taught from her first breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom would say “family is family” which meant
that if there is family around that needs something you will do whatever you
can to help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her childhood was spent in
a household where there was there a steady stream of extended family all
around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Add to this that her father
tended to bring people home when they needed help as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could be wrong in my interpretation of this
but from what I’ve been able to observe my Grandparent’s business was a Mecca
for family members who needed work and thus loving family was ever present.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This is a wonderful blessing and a curse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When there are many well meaning helpers
around there are also many opinions and expectations. Mom talked about how
proud of her her father was, how he would have her “recite” for people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A favorite story she told me was about the
time her father brought home a flat of strawberries and told her he would
really like some jam. Then he left her alone to take care of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now those of you who have had my mom prepare
a meal for you might be getting a picture of little Marian in the big kitchen
at the house on South Temple up to her elbows in strawberries – and the
incredulity of the image.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s just say
that cooking was not really my mom’s favorite thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She once watched my children for a week and
fed them nothing but 18 wheeler sandwiches from the corner gas station – but I
digress. She managed to make the jam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She has never included in the story how the jam <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>turned out. What she has always said was how
it felt to have her father show that confidence in her and then praise her
efforts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From my perspective this little
story that she liked to tell me was important to her because she craved that
feeling of being trusted and seen as competent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now I’ve seen the pictures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Smith children had pretty clothes and my Grandmother was, of course,
proud of her beautiful children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
might accuse me of being biased but in truth, my mother and aunts were stunning
women. Being pretty and being thin were very important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For my mother weight management was a
lifelong burden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think she ever
put anything in her mouth without being burdened with conflicting
emotions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she was thin and eating
nothing but boiled chicken and celery then every bite was almost a penance for
the sin of having eaten something that tasted good in the past and if she was
binging every bite was a failure and foretold a life of loneliness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In mom’s head she wasn’t lovable if she
wasn't thin and pretty and she never felt like she was thin enough. Because of
this she often pulled away from people she loved, she wasn’t sure she was good
enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, knowing this I am always
amazed when I realize how often and completely she opened her heart to people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mother could strike up a conversation
anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She made friends easily and
often. . </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mom was an original she had many loves in her life and each
of those was a new era.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom was a 16
year old army wife in Virginia, and the wife of an artist turned realtor, she
was the wife of a bartender and then she was the wife and caregiver when her
husband’s health failed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She brought
three children into the world,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>my sister
Brenda and my brother Bill and myself and in likewise manner she loved, provided
for, worried about and sorrowed over my step brothers Dave (Huggy) and
Tom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">She had nine grandchildren and 15 great grandchildren. But
she was the memorable Aunt Marian as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As in all areas of her life, her approach to the children she loved was
often unique – remember the 18 wheelers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In typical fashion she won the heart of my grand daughter by providing a
full makeover.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something our Elodie will
never forget.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By sister’s daughter
summed it up for me by saying “when Grandma played with you she really played with
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She got down on the floor and got
into the game”. When she gave a gift to a child she always wanted it to be as
close to the “real thing” as was reasonable (well her definition of
reasonable).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you want some fun
stories talk to her grandchildren today,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>they have some doozies. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She loved
to play with the daughters more than the grandsons because she could completely
relate. But she was so proud of and amazed by her grandsons and sometimes
seemed surprised when they loved her back with the same devotion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mainly, though she was pretty excited when
her grandsons grew old enough to dance with her at weddings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The final weeks of my mother’s life may have been the
sweetest, most enlightening time I’ve ever spent with her. We were able to just
appreciate each other without being impaired by trivia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She ate all the chocolate she wanted with a
joy I will carry with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will backtrack just a little to tell you
that I have had several loved ones turn 80 over the past 2 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had the blessing of helping arrange a
birthday party for my mother in law.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I realized what a treasure that celebration was to her I wanted so
much to do that for my own mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
outgoing, red hot chili pepper mother didn’t want that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took some work for me to realize something
from that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In all of my mother’s larger
than life approach and glamour and big heartedness she really did not like to
be the center of attention. She was a one of a kind in a world that often does
not appreciate uniqueness and she wasn’t entirely sure that a big party in her
honor would be attended only by people that understood that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was mistaken but I got my way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re having a party now, and Mama you
deserve to be the star of the show. Mama left this life understanding that she is
a child of God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I will address a few final few words to my Mama.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am proud of your many, many triumphs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t possibly stand here and tell the
full story of your colorful, sad, beautiful, triumphant life. I’m a little
miffed that you never wrote the memoir you threatened to write but I am
inspired by the realization of how many, many times you pulled yourself out of
and climbed over the challenges to go on and do something sparkling.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <b>Musical Number - Ben & Elodie Oelkers</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I was small my Grandma Anna taught me a Danish children's song she learned from her mother who must have learned it from her mother. My brother remembers my mother singing this song to him as a lullabye. We have included this song because it represents the tender moments between mother and child that we treasured. The translation of the song itself is:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b> </b>Get up little Hans<br />Get up little Hans<br />Listen- the lark is singing!<br />No little mom<br />No little mom<br />That’s the door creaking</span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzKigsZMsDOB1VTgvEMZpNgoScS6ZCmpshTAGIZ-PVLns6F0cKyHnaBPc-Lm5_E1BN-M7TnsnAELYU0jaTYQw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Eulogy</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> by William Barnwell </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Hazel Marian Smith Barnwell passed away
peacefully in her home in Zephyr Cove Nevada on April 17, 2016 – Born February
25, 1936 to Hazel Anna Sorensen Smith and William Frank Smith of Wendover
Nevada. Sister, Aunt, Mother, Great Great Grandmother, world traveler,
philanthropist, reformed shopaholic, glamorous movie star to those who knew
her, and self-proclaimed golf widow has gone home to our Lord peacefully
surrounded by loved ones here at home in Lake Tahoe Nevada. Marian, spelled with
her fabulous M, was a 50 year resident of Zephyr Cove Nevada. She started her
career as a cocktail waitress at Barney’s Casino here on the south shore where
she raised three of her own children for some time as a single mother. Later
married to Thomas Gerald Benton Barnwell, AKA Lefty, raising his two sons as
well. Her hard work and tenacity always present, she was able to purchase two
condominiums in Roundhill and raise not only her children but scores of stray
kids and animals. A woman whose vocabulary never included “no” as she replaced
it with “how”. Owner of two separate local favorites The Velvet Hammer Tavern
& River Boat Casino in Roundhill and Stateline, Nevada, she later went on
on to serve as Vice President for the Stateline Hotel & Casino, Silver
Smith Casino, Stateline Properties, Jims Enterprises, and HAS associates. Board
member and administrator of the William & Anna Smith foundation that helped
to provide college educations for countless scores of Wendover High School
graduates; wanting for others what she was unable to attain for herself. Born
to a hard working Danish immigrant and rugged coal miner turned Nevada gaming
pioneer she had hospitality in her veins. Her door was always open with a light
and television always on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She would love
to sit for hours talking to anyone about what was going on in Hollywood. When
she was not dreaming of Hollywood she would often live it by traveling to
exotic locations later in life, sewing and creating her own costumes,
performing makeup on her granddaughters (and anyone that would let her) and
purchasing scores of costume jewelry and props. With a love for all forms of
entertainment she loved to dance, sing, and walk the streets of San Francisco
with her dog Cupid where she was able to live, laugh, and love for many years.
Renting a vacation home on top of Russian Hill she would host amazing fleet
week parties from her lavishly decorated roof top garden designed by her
daughter in law Tina Hoy Barnwell. Always up for adventure and a free spirit
Marian’s boundless energy could hardly be slowed by her diagnoses of CHF and
COPD which she recently fought hard, recovering from Pneumonia then finally succumbing
to our Lord’s will. Marian is survived by her sister Carol Smith Johnson (Darrel)
of Rush Valley Utah, brother James William Smith (Eve) of Salt lake City Utah,
daughter Janell Oellkers (Monte) of Saint Francis Minnesota and son William
Frank Barnwell (Tina) of Zephyr Cove Nevada and grand children, Angie &
Andrew Arrien, Gina & Terrell Gregory, Ben & Jenna Draper, Sara &
Josh Griffin, Anna Pratt & Stan Williams, Brenda & Derek Udy, Bill
& Stephanie Oelkers and Gunnar Barnwell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her legacy also includes great grand children, Drew, Avery, Gaven,
Gracie Arrien, Nolan Gregory, </span><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Brynlee, Alana, Isabelle Draper, Rion & Addy Griffin, Xavey and
Daevius Udy, and Ben, Elodie, & Eilonwy Oelkers</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was preceded in death by her daughter
Brenda June Draper and Sister Billie Ann Devine . Researchers now believe that
English is a Scandinavian language and Hazel the Scandinavian word which means
the blending of the perfect colors which embody the best of blue green and
brown. So if you knew Marian then you knew she helped color your life perfectly! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b>Gunnar Barnwell - Video Tribute</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b> </b> </span></span><br />
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memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-18727590017449962422016-05-09T07:34:00.001-05:002016-05-09T07:34:25.124-05:00A Few Thoughts on Birth and DeathThis has been a pivotal year in my life. My sister passed away a year ago at the end of January, my aunt passed away in August, and my mother passed away in April. I am composing this in the airport on the way home after her "send off". At this point I'm refusing to use the term funeral for the event we shared yesterday but I will explain that further later. In addition, between the time my sister passed and my mother passed, my son and his family were sealed in the Holy Temple for time and all eternity and my youngest grandchild was born. Without going into gory details I will say that these markers in my life have been akin to Toad's Wild Ride. <div><br></div><div>As I sit here today contemplating tomorrow I feel a unique peace and hope. One of the enduring truths brought home to me from these experiences is that a life that includes joy will also include hard work of the physical, emotional AND spiritual kind. When Brenda passed I said goodbye to a constant in my life that I had taken for granted. The experience lit a fire under me to examine how I spend my time and whether my limited time and energy are being spent in a way that brought me the joy promised in 2 Nephi 2:25 which reads "Adam fell that men might be and men are that they might know joy" I found myself going to work thinking "it is actually possible I could die today or next week or a year from now. Is this the way I want to spend the rest of my life?" The answer was no and the solution was a painful one but SO worth the journey. In short (too late) the loss made me well aware of my own mortality and I examine the things I do with my time more carefully now. I still fill my time as completely as I did before but I fill it with things that add to my "bucket" (See <u>Have You Filled a Bucket Today?</u> By Carol McCloud). I erased all but one of the games on my phone and replaced them with photo collection and family history apps. "Downtime" is spent going through photos and collecting family stories. I can't seem to shake the feeling that the task set for me is to focus on the stories that are disappearing rather than on the work that has not been done yet for those who have passed. I hereby gratefully thank those who are focused on doing the work for the dead that I have not made the priority at this point. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">The day after my sister's funeral I attended the sealing of my son and his wife and our 2 grandchildren with one on the way. What an incredible message of renewal and permanence my Savior sent me for the day after a painful ending. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">My mother's health, physically and emotionally, tanked after my sister's death. She was not well enough to attend the wedding when my sister's youngest daughter married in August, and was barely able to attend her own sister's funeral later that month. When she entered the hospital in February with a case of pneumonia we were all preparing to lose her then. She surprised us all, as usual, and recovered and went home. She came away from that experience with a renewed sense of hope and zest for life. We had several wonderful conversations on the phone that eased my heavy heart and I had the great blessing of being able to spend my spring break with her. We talked and laughed and watched British comedies. We looked at pictures, shared stories both funny and poignant and generally enjoyed each other's company. On my last day there she began to decline. Less than a week later she fell and was rushed to the hospital again. My brother and his wife and I talked with mom and her doctors and decided to have mom enter hospice care. For us this meant taking mom off all medications except those that made her comfortable and letting nature take its course. This was a life changing decision process for all of us. My brother has been her caregiver for about a decade and the concept of not rescuing her when she began to fail was so very foreign to him. He agreed with his logical mind but his breaking heart just could not step away. I went to Tahoe to try to be whatever support I could both for Mom and for Bill and Tina. </font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Before we left the hospital we had a group conference call. Fifty two people were invited to join. I'm not sure how many actually joined but it was an amazing family reunion on the phone. Everyone had a chance to talk to mom. We received a family prayer from Pastor Paul. The next two days were very hard but the hospice nurse, Heather, came to help. She walked us through what the process would look like and sound like. She helped us with the physical as well as the emotional and respected and supported the spiritual. She helped us see that this process is just another kind of birth. Birth isn't always pretty or dignified but it is essential and powerful and wonderful.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">By Easter Sunday Mom was awake and eating, asking for her favorite things and cracking wise. She was rallying once again. We spoke of important things, we cleared up old resentments, and we expressed our love and appreciation for each other. And we said goodbye. I went home to Minnesota.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">My brother and his wife took a much deserved trip to Hawaii that had been given to them by a friend and my daughter, Brenda, came to be with Mom. Mom enjoyed her week with her grandchild and then spent the final day of her life speaking with those who had pre deceased her. I believe, like every starlet, she knew when the best time for her to exit the stage was. She knew my brother and I would grieve and that my sweet Brenda is one of the toughest women (with the gentlest heart) who ever walked and she chose her time.</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">I have learned so very much from this experience. All of my adult life I have been afraid that my mother would die a painful, lonely death. The process is as beautiful and natural as the process of birth. The brief opportunities I had to provide her with care and support toward the process are not undignified they are precious and intimate. </font><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I thank God with all my heart that she died knowing she is loved and appreciated by her family and that she is a precious daughter of God.</span></div>memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-59050821126146757002015-11-29T15:11:00.001-06:002015-11-29T15:11:50.704-06:00God is at the Helm<div>I had the opportunity to speak in Sacrament meeting today. I've decided that when I and mine do that I would like to record our thoughts in this chronicle to share: </div><div><br></div><div>Sometimes God calms the storm. Other times, he calms the sailor. And sometimes he makes us swim. Anonymous</div><div><br></div><div>God is at the helm.</div><div><br></div><div>Elder M. Russel Ballard spoke in the last General Conference about the good ship Zion. It was a wonderful, inspiring talk that set me thinking. Now, I’ll share with you why I Iove teaching the ll and 12 year olds. They ask great questions. One of them asked what the word Zion meant, at this point I realize I have to find a balance between answering all of their questions and keeping the lesson on course, so we defined the word for the purposes of our lesson which was as the city of Enoch, but the word Zion is also defined in the (D&C 97:21) as the “pure in heart” and in the Oxford Dictionary it is defined as the kingdom of God or the church. Whichever definition we are looking at, Elder Ballard reminded us eloquently that “God is at the helm”. God is in charge of directing the building up of His kingdom. </div><div><br></div><div> I am tempted to say that it is too big a job for one person but the reality is that if he could create the earth then flood it, part the red sea, destroy Babylon, and hear all of our prayers all of the time He probably has the power to take the helm and direct it where he wants it to go. The problem with that plan is that he would need to take our agency from us to do that and that would negate the purpose of the plan of salvation. So, if you have a really large ship full of sailors, all of them seeking the right direction and individually responsible for where they end up. Add to this that many of them are inexperienced and impulsive, what would you need for them to have in order to guide them safely into harbor? Watchmen.</div><div><br></div><div>Ezekial 63: The Lord tells Ezekial...</div><div>2 Son of man, speak to the children of thy people, and say unto them, When I bring the sword upon a land, if the people of the land take a man of their coasts, and set him for their watchman:</div><div><br></div><div>3 If when he seeth the sword come upon the land, he blow the trumpet, and warn the people;</div><div><br></div><div>4 Then whosoever heareth the sound of the trumpet, and taketh not warning; if the sword come, and take him away, his blood shall be upon his own head.</div><div><br></div><div>7 So thou, O son of man, I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore thou shalt hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from me.</div><div><br></div><div>Elder Ballard said “make no mistake about it; the lord directs His Church through living prophets and apostles.” </div><div><br></div><div>How grateful I am for the prophets, both ancient and present day who have dedicated their lives to the service of God and the building of His kingdom.</div><div><br></div><div>And what do they warn us to do? In the last conference, a few of the admonitions that inspired me were to read the scriptures, to be worthy of the temple, to serve others, to honor mothers and women, and to keep the sabbath and always, always to make Jesus Christ the center of your life. If I choose only one of these challenges at a time to focus on how much more joyful will my life be? </div><div><br></div><div>What if I do those things? If I read the scriptures I will find the answers to questions I need, I have been promised protection from the adversary for doing that one simple thing. If I serve others I build friendships, bolster families, and even help myself as I recognize my strengths through service. When I honor the mothers and women in my life and around the world I feel an amazing connection with the sisterhood we belong to. I can’t begin to express the amount of love I’ve received from the Relief Society, the things I’ve learned and opportunities that have been realized. And when I live a Christ centered life I can count on being able to find peace even when the storms rage.</div><div><br></div><div>Still, the prophets and apostles are men and they are on the good ship Zion, holding on for dear life, just as we are. We are all here to make a few (or in my case a lot of) mistakes and to learn from those. Our prophets and apostles are not perfect. My grandmother’s brother was a general authority. My father’s memory of him is that he was a “fire and brimstone” kind of guy. As may have happened to some of you, I have sometimes disagreed with or wondered about decisions made by our leaders (so far, not the prophets) but I hope I never criticize. My job is to use my agency and my right to personal revelation to find understanding. Then to forgive and forget any mistakes and humbly accept direction from the Lord through his watchmen.</div><div><br></div><div>Remember that service as a leader in the Church of Jesus Christ even though it comes with a powerful priesthood authority (the same authority that created the earth and parted the seas) is not about dominion. </div><div><br></div><div>Moses 1:39 </div><div>39 For behold, this is my work and my glory--to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.</div><div><br></div><div>The good ship Zion is for those who are pure in heart and unified of purpose. These gentle men who serve the Lord by lighting our way do it for the glory of god – to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.</div><div><br></div><div>I testify that Thomas S. Monson is a prophet of God. He is called to lead us in our time through the challenges as well as the joys that are unique to this dispensation. I am grateful for him and his counselors and apostles as watchmen. I’m grateful for their wisdom and love as they use the Lord’s will to select the leaders I will encounter directly. I am grateful for our stake presidencies and bishoprics for their service and dedication on my behalf.</div><div><br></div><div>And I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen</div><div><br></div>memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-26772938801458235052015-10-25T18:44:00.001-05:002015-10-25T18:44:35.385-05:00CrossroadsOver the 56 years of my life I've faced many crossroads. Sometimes I've chosen well and other times I've learned from making distinctly poor choices. In recent weeks I've reached yet another crossroads in my life and have come to recognize something about my own process in these challenges. First, when the goal I am working toward is something I really want I can be determined (read: stubborn) to the point of self destruction about not giving up. I can rationalize that I, "haven't worked hard enough, haven't tried long enough, or haven't tried every option" I look back at the struggle and see every effort toward progress I made that didn't pan out and I tell myself I've made "mistakes" and if I could only keep trying long enough to not make those mistakes everything would be great. Next, when I finally hit the wall (read crash and burn) I spend a great deal of time beating myself up about not making it. My first marriage was this kind of an experience. Out of respect for the dead I will not chronicle the details here except to say that he was a loving, sweet and funny guy who had an illness far too damaging for either of us to cope with. I lasted 11 years in that marriage. When I looked back at the experience I beat myself up for a long time for not making different choices about it. But from that marriage I gained some of my most precious spiritual gifts. I learned to understand people who are not able to be rational at that moment. He was the one diligently seeking to find the true church of Jesus Christ and he invited the missionaries into our home. I responded badly to that invitation and it was because of Dan I continued to hear their message. I learned the truth of the gospel because he wanted so much to know it. Without that relationship I may never have known the joy of belonging to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. From that marriage I was also blessed with 3 of the most beautiful, smartest, and most loving children ever given to a parent. I firmly believe that each challenge we meet and learn from is followed by a blessing that matches the scope of the sorrow you endured with an equal portion of joy. My second marriage is such a relationship. Monte is the epitome of common sense and rational behavior. He is my reward. (Makes me wonder why he is saddled with me but it's not my problem ;-)<div><br></div><div>Other crossroads have been when I was working on my bachelor's degree I had decided that I wanted to be a Child Life Specialist and I threw my whole heart into that- serving a 3 month unpaid internship. I spent long hours translating medical procedures into Spanish that could (hopefully) be understood by Spanish only speaking children so that they could be prepared for the precedure and reduce the trauma. It turned out the hospital setting was not really a good fit for me. I was so sad and convinced myself that I hadn't managed to gain any marketable skills (duh!) </div><div><br></div><div>I went to work in an elementary school and discovered that working with children was my gift. The Lord had been aiming me at teaching since I joined the church. I had served many teaching positions with both children and adults but always found myself returning to teaching children. I also spent the next 15 years working with elementary children, obtaining degrees in teaching at the elementary & middle school levels and in special education.</div><div><br></div><div>Now I've reached yet another crossroads. My special education license is working with emotionally and behaviorally disabled students which is what I have done for the last 10 years but I have hit the wall now. The burnout rate is high in my profession and it is now my turn. I am taking a medical leave of absence to figure out that part of my crash and burn has been to feel that I have failed. I failed my students, my husband, and myself. It has taken me a full month to clear the fugue enough to recognize that 10 years of teaching represents a success not a failure. It is just time to choose my next path. Now that the clouds are clearing I remember that the Lord guided me to where I needed to be on multiple occasions. If I keep my promises to Him he will prepare a way.</div>memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-2419380337800787712015-08-25T19:21:00.001-05:002015-08-25T19:27:13.158-05:00Pouting and Potato Salad I had a craving for potato salad on Saturday and boiled some eggs and potatoes with that goal in mind. Then I got distracted with something else and my husband indicated he wanted to have the famous pork and beef roast (an Oelkers family favorite) for dinner on Sunday. This means boiled potatoes, or mashed, and gravy which then leaves potato salad sort of extraneous. My mother in law, Anna, came to dinner on Sunday. Anna, of course, noticed the boiled potatoes sitting on my counter and offered to help me make the potato salad. I am not proud to say it but I didn't respond to this offer with the gratitude I should have. Then I felt bad and it took me a full hour to work through what the problem was. <div> What I realized after pouting about the potato salad for awhile is that potato salad is one of those recipes that everyone makes a little differently and it becomes a staple for family get togethers. This means that it is one of those recipes that evokes pleasant memories. What I had done was play with the pictures for awhile, particularly ones of family get togethers that included my Grandmother Anna and I'd started to think about the potato salad she used to make. I don't have her actual recipe but, over the years, I've developed my own including some of the things I remember about hers. She always put sour cream in her potato salad, red onions, and (I think) dill pickles. Anyway, that is the way I like it. So, when she offered to "help" make potato salad I got all defensive like I'd have to make her recipe if she was making it.</div><div> Anna Mae makes great potato salad. I like it almost as much as I like my own - but not better. What I do know is that her family likes her potato salad enough to sometimes make less than diplomatic comments about any potato salad that is not hers. This is me learning not to be distressed by that. My recipe (my grandmother's) is not less desirable than Anna's it simply does not evoke the same nostalgic emotional response in the hearts of her loyal children. Once I had worked my way through that realization I also came to be aware that I am hoping to preserve some of these nostalgic feelings through pictures, stories, and recipes. While I trecked around the country gathering pictures and stories I also gathered some favorite family recipes. I am in posession of my Great Grandmother Dorcas' recipes for banana bread, danish dumplings, aebleskivers, raisin filled cookies, etc. I am also in posession of several of the Oelkers family's beloved recipes as well, and nowww I also have Anna Mae's potato salad recipe. We made her recipe together and I wrote it down (because, of course, her comment was "I don't have a recipe") I will share because it truly is a good potato salad recipe. AND because I love the Oelkers family. Someday in the near future, maybe, I will make my recipe and share it in like manner. - By the way, if any of my cousins are reading this and you DO have Grandma's potato salad recipe please share. </div><div><br></div><div>Here goes (keeping in mind that the amounts are approximate):</div><div><br></div><div>4 pounds boiled red potates - peeled and diced</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_nRC2KAqGg8JGDGdAJlv_dW-qBakbd6zpSpbGTP5-q6djEeUZa9RdEpRSYgYsIbK7IxHoaYIZkvFRSxChh1EnXsRYA4iQukScesR12OilvOAjkw-VFTi1DbfQWk94YNDRfOFDYuu1Nhqg/s640/blogger-image--1048460455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_nRC2KAqGg8JGDGdAJlv_dW-qBakbd6zpSpbGTP5-q6djEeUZa9RdEpRSYgYsIbK7IxHoaYIZkvFRSxChh1EnXsRYA4iQukScesR12OilvOAjkw-VFTi1DbfQWk94YNDRfOFDYuu1Nhqg/s640/blogger-image--1048460455.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">10 to 12 boiled eggs - chopped</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">4 medium scallions (green onions) minced fine - not too much of the green please ;-)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLd23W7W-9tsSw7S2d9F0uMgpXy5Fg3zK_QaA3xIo9qCisYt2dozbKoOaEKqegajwYQJ3SGLO56CI40M2LPRti3AaGHFPXCgX8m37Lb4ljwII6Jz6Rw9vAMHZqTjp9yfv4VpPa8qcRPpu0/s640/blogger-image--473807975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLd23W7W-9tsSw7S2d9F0uMgpXy5Fg3zK_QaA3xIo9qCisYt2dozbKoOaEKqegajwYQJ3SGLO56CI40M2LPRti3AaGHFPXCgX8m37Lb4ljwII6Jz6Rw9vAMHZqTjp9yfv4VpPa8qcRPpu0/s640/blogger-image--473807975.jpg"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLd23W7W-9tsSw7S2d9F0uMgpXy5Fg3zK_QaA3xIo9qCisYt2dozbKoOaEKqegajwYQJ3SGLO56CI40M2LPRti3AaGHFPXCgX8m37Lb4ljwII6Jz6Rw9vAMHZqTjp9yfv4VpPa8qcRPpu0/s640/blogger-image--473807975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0G12_0fj4lKhXhjgYLjI9tNGa9PmhTWZ_7anHMbkXm4Evevpjvofrmj_fXT1nRzrSKGMEG02VNhNDOPRcDQaVxrgwuZffiL4NyZyg3_8FbEpxqrZJMO_xlsus7eGzbQOhjZKEA8Eji61/s640/blogger-image-47351267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0G12_0fj4lKhXhjgYLjI9tNGa9PmhTWZ_7anHMbkXm4Evevpjvofrmj_fXT1nRzrSKGMEG02VNhNDOPRcDQaVxrgwuZffiL4NyZyg3_8FbEpxqrZJMO_xlsus7eGzbQOhjZKEA8Eji61/s640/blogger-image-47351267.jpg"></a></div></div><br></div>2 stalks celery - chopped small</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wxb_sVCV4iA987itdggUVYGzDUzFkxl1FQSxb2tQWCAxsEzODV4hlE0_hAcm_ID9Ox0R-pskljRC3QTeEAQciZZeBn9-sXMUhIze-XQx8FUHoBX4CXYGwjfjpvqdREJG3p4gig4TGWLv/s640/blogger-image--594718157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wxb_sVCV4iA987itdggUVYGzDUzFkxl1FQSxb2tQWCAxsEzODV4hlE0_hAcm_ID9Ox0R-pskljRC3QTeEAQciZZeBn9-sXMUhIze-XQx8FUHoBX4CXYGwjfjpvqdREJG3p4gig4TGWLv/s640/blogger-image--594718157.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Dressing:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3 c. mayo</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">2.5+ tablespoons mustard</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">2 teaspoons salt </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">½ teaspoon black pepper</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMZL1yFj6qoe5-_6zRneAfrpmBjgKwO0I70-_nb7W3dc93jv6BohrxW9PL6ozfr_KCgMEfXXTg9cyKo7rupj8z8ke5GYvcxpuBQqpnYV3wYZELB3E1FNY4gDBdByvTtZ8BKmzj5L6LySo1/s640/blogger-image-431139175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMZL1yFj6qoe5-_6zRneAfrpmBjgKwO0I70-_nb7W3dc93jv6BohrxW9PL6ozfr_KCgMEfXXTg9cyKo7rupj8z8ke5GYvcxpuBQqpnYV3wYZELB3E1FNY4gDBdByvTtZ8BKmzj5L6LySo1/s640/blogger-image-431139175.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2vxSlGv55ilztvo2NTyRJOYO3dL6GLzpOH1JaHvcNbK95hymFOnFF7sq-d4uIdDtvVkHa8TIjOvw0FNCpPxnV2Dqghye2oQ7JLBRISJtKdRTrbrfjMcMLSihm8UFEZBHaPe-SOrHoNWk/s640/blogger-image--377711182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2vxSlGv55ilztvo2NTyRJOYO3dL6GLzpOH1JaHvcNbK95hymFOnFF7sq-d4uIdDtvVkHa8TIjOvw0FNCpPxnV2Dqghye2oQ7JLBRISJtKdRTrbrfjMcMLSihm8UFEZBHaPe-SOrHoNWk/s640/blogger-image--377711182.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Thank you Anna Mae, the potato salad is delicious and we made a memory making it together. THAT is what family is about.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-22063184070941550212015-08-22T21:02:00.000-05:002015-08-22T21:10:28.613-05:00It All Comes Around<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">Years ago, when I worked for a school age day care, I had gone to some trouble to organize an activity around investigating their family history. One young man scathingly responded, "Those people are dead. Why do I care about this?" I remember struggling to articulate the connection and curiosity I feel about my ancestors. Why do I care? </span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">My son, Bill, came to visit today and brought his children with him. We spent hours chatting about children, schools, computers, pickles, and egg cake (go figure) but finally came around to sharing some of the photos I gathered in my travels. I was struck anew at how often we said "Look how much he/she looks like . . ." and "I remember when we . . ." We noted that my grand daughter has the same crooked smile found on the faces of 2 of her grandmothers. My father's elementary school class pictures proved that the mid-forehead hair swoop found on my own head and that of all of my children was my dad's hair swoop first. </span></div>
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And, most tellingly, a draw toward creativity/artistry runs strongly through our lineage. My father is an artist, his mother and her sister were artists. Whether that desire toward creativity comes from each generation sharing their own interests with the next or from a genetic predisposition, I believe there is undeniably a genetic componenet to true talent such as my Grandmother and her sister passed along to my father and he passed it to his son, my brother. </span>The point is, as the love comes back around and one generation spends that precious time with the next, we pass along that which we love. A visit to my Grandfather Jensen's house would have meant a fish fry and time in the garden. That was what he loved. A visit to my father's house for my children would have meant paint or clay or drawing tools were likely to make an appearance.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmWkHaVumfzWPqh2qBeR3bwDfnF17syXiVYeEA4uIAIz7YTgOMtfj8ncb5STkVmCRBj6E8lg9tdzRMnOPsTZqj9AZvkEbb2wLrOiQcdiPaA36rTE1tsQbLtYUIjnkJtIqsmzuMoEyABIq4/s1600/blogger-image-1898959081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmWkHaVumfzWPqh2qBeR3bwDfnF17syXiVYeEA4uIAIz7YTgOMtfj8ncb5STkVmCRBj6E8lg9tdzRMnOPsTZqj9AZvkEbb2wLrOiQcdiPaA36rTE1tsQbLtYUIjnkJtIqsmzuMoEyABIq4/s320/blogger-image-1898959081.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNSHccvFAlrVex_jNPpYMK58GYYO4iKS-EOg9tKwvqTYzi4wENmA2w3kj4FKuDrLsGnWDoRmIkiwNq0687b1yFT4kwJCy-vWmfdAPUe1VyKUJ6C07OAe4jNzIAyq6Ml30uHFKwuTgo3lNO/s640/blogger-image-865140964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNSHccvFAlrVex_jNPpYMK58GYYO4iKS-EOg9tKwvqTYzi4wENmA2w3kj4FKuDrLsGnWDoRmIkiwNq0687b1yFT4kwJCy-vWmfdAPUe1VyKUJ6C07OAe4jNzIAyq6Ml30uHFKwuTgo3lNO/s320/blogger-image-865140964.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Today, when my grandchildren came to visit my first thought was for us to create something (I'm not an artist) We made a fairy garden! I was reminded of the art projects my Grandmother Va and I had created at this lovely glass table - this table that was passed down to my father, just like that love of creating beautiful things.</div>
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memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-25040455377956867722015-08-13T20:40:00.000-05:002015-08-13T20:40:16.411-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 20, 21 & 22 Homeward Bound<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyCwfyhs5Xjlv-y3hmhsE3utL5Vi3dJY2e3cpFJwpHYqng1HICezc0TShpYT_Cy26-43G_JBf-Adh7CprV9FDQuinWO0p_iJRUkHdBAZ7GvwSnurqufnsrneYjyzVj9xviJj_QnJ8Gyzq/s1600/DSCN0815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyCwfyhs5Xjlv-y3hmhsE3utL5Vi3dJY2e3cpFJwpHYqng1HICezc0TShpYT_Cy26-43G_JBf-Adh7CprV9FDQuinWO0p_iJRUkHdBAZ7GvwSnurqufnsrneYjyzVj9xviJj_QnJ8Gyzq/s200/DSCN0815.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE8oe5_qkfysKgCghnew6iaZQxFsMtTwvyQkgx6EH4lSIX-PqzylWr8wFNEOti0RL-nfF_3RzURzlLnRKdHgZ_NXCLaqPCzPo6WY6odNIEhCwPPsDJgKpfba5D6mbuQa-PbvQXKqf4_IKc/s1600/DSCN0826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE8oe5_qkfysKgCghnew6iaZQxFsMtTwvyQkgx6EH4lSIX-PqzylWr8wFNEOti0RL-nfF_3RzURzlLnRKdHgZ_NXCLaqPCzPo6WY6odNIEhCwPPsDJgKpfba5D6mbuQa-PbvQXKqf4_IKc/s200/DSCN0826.JPG" width="200" /></a> Friday, August 7, 2015<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCr5oIr2w82S5s_yV9d0PYKJeKIcMGYqrDc2ugN133lk0kdDdJNyQoikJuHHNZ3o96foLZyQdqL46QCUh04qkvprU86kvCxebvlHadsXleiYfY_1Qr_AAK2Z89ixz98WgrPM43EAAyVPg4/s1600/DSCN0835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCr5oIr2w82S5s_yV9d0PYKJeKIcMGYqrDc2ugN133lk0kdDdJNyQoikJuHHNZ3o96foLZyQdqL46QCUh04qkvprU86kvCxebvlHadsXleiYfY_1Qr_AAK2Z89ixz98WgrPM43EAAyVPg4/s200/DSCN0835.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFgSoeb4NlhfF1KG9Z99TKIsC50qnxOhxubLTyj-MteclsU6c8zLWBaLhGN2mpeW-sDrkuUpVLXBTBTk1tiYiR48fkIP-DFhTl-nF3OKoyACXP0CEW1VniqUYThc01C2eqCGmgyZdcODM/s1600/DSCN0823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFgSoeb4NlhfF1KG9Z99TKIsC50qnxOhxubLTyj-MteclsU6c8zLWBaLhGN2mpeW-sDrkuUpVLXBTBTk1tiYiR48fkIP-DFhTl-nF3OKoyACXP0CEW1VniqUYThc01C2eqCGmgyZdcODM/s200/DSCN0823.JPG" width="200" /></a>We drove all day. Beautiful country in Colorado then South Dakota farmland. We passed fields of sunflowers so big I couldn't see the end of them. The photos I took do not do them justice. The best part was just touring with my sweetheart, pointing at the sights and chatting about whatever. Before becoming empty nesters, I had assumed we would have LOTS of time together once the children were independent. This is not really the case. Yes, we have more than we did when we had children to care for (and taxi around) but the fact remains that work and callings and day to day life demands that we have our separate tasks and interests. This is one of our blessings because it provides us with more to share when we do have the time together. We drove all day - and into the night stopping at Custer, SD.<br />
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Saturday, August 8, 2015</div>
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Crazy Horse Memorial: my traveler tip. Be sure to watch the video. It almost put me off because it began with a review of the promises that were broken by the US government to the Native American people. But it is the truth, and the point of the memorial is not about broken promises but about building a place to educate and celebrate Native American people and cultures. Don't miss it.<br />
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Mount Rushmore. I have only been here once before but was not feeling well and didn't remember much about it - 20+ years ago! Amazing.<br />
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Wall Drug: Not for lunch though ;-)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3hf8nBKDqxZkAmmWBofQoC2dpnM-2q9zHCNrCR2T6rzpkeVexvHQHT7dnd0VYynnzZuMUgh5TpUTl-31Ntc6VgyQLFcAGE-tH5hxwRpIZ5jy9ogE00yhHoSx_o5tTzliU3-xjcTDtLNN/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-08-13+at+8.26.14+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3hf8nBKDqxZkAmmWBofQoC2dpnM-2q9zHCNrCR2T6rzpkeVexvHQHT7dnd0VYynnzZuMUgh5TpUTl-31Ntc6VgyQLFcAGE-tH5hxwRpIZ5jy9ogE00yhHoSx_o5tTzliU3-xjcTDtLNN/s320/Screen+Shot+2015-08-13+at+8.26.14+PM.png" width="320" /></a>And, finally, 4,627 miles (395 hours of travel time) and 2500 family photos/ 8.5 hours of recorded family stories later . . .<img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjksyXHnQsgCRFdVB9kqYRmxsOs3dbbMAbLvdpbf2C3PXoWxJ3_Y-SmG2fsh3QWBMA-hg88LIZ93g07HhZgF0Zepq_pZ5YtOm6PpBXHAC1B-U7JAbyiQqhXMgwXHzVgG_-1-QOo5b3L5clX/s200/DSCN1012.JPG" width="200" /> </div>
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Home Sweet Home!!</div>
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-79185186453288918092015-08-12T19:56:00.002-05:002015-08-12T20:53:38.173-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 19<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Thursday, August 6, 2015</div>
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We packed up and dropped Gunnar off at the airport. It was fun to take him to the gate and watch him manage the process pretty much on is own. The airline requires that minors be accompanied so I had an excuse to see him off. After that, Monte and I went to see my Aunt Billie Ann. She has had some serious health concerns but is on the mend. It was so much fun to visit with her.</div>
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Next, we headed for Grand Junction, CO where we hoped to meet up with our daughter Brenda and her husband and children. As it turned out, she was off in Washington helping fight fires. However, in Price we passed a sign advertising a dinosaur museum. I said "that looks like fun" and Monte headed off the road!! He is humoring me and I love it. This was a very cool museum.</div>
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<img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikGmcQwUM2y28ItfAlYIldYdQasvwU4G3WUL-n-ep79xZxSoWbotZ7jAtnfEMwfnELCwwt7ch88ft8eutnTQPmbUEOy0XyYvE-3IrET-Gha5oDZGmH9EYxqOeK8vlUJVGj6bp0C6cR-Wjh/s200/IMG_3650.JPG" width="200" />We were able to meet Derek and Xavey and Daevius for dinner in Grand Junction. It was a fun meal. Then we had ice cream after. I discovered that Cold Stone Creamery has HUGE servings. I'm sure glad I didn't order the large!! I really wish I'd taken pictures of Derek and the kids but I didn't. We still built a memory - I hope.</div>
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-23927858540329290562015-08-11T20:25:00.000-05:002015-08-11T20:26:39.029-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 18 - One Reunion and One Wedding<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wednesday, August 5, 2015</div>
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Gunnar and I picked Monte up at the airport. Then we went to lunch at the slowest fast food joint in the city. The burgers were delicious but we waited more than 30 minutes for them! After 2 weeks apart, I am really happy to see my sweet husband. He has been completely supportive about this vacation/info gathering jaunt. Some husbands would have complained. He just wishes me well, checks on my well being, and expresses excitement about what I'm doing. I hope my sweet niece, Jesse, has done as well for herself. </div>
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In the afternoon, we attended the wedding of Jesse & Frank. They are so cute together and so right for each other. I hope they will always be as happy as they looked today!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Russ and Jesse Draper. Notice down front. Jesse's mother (the photo) is in her place as well.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diane Jensen, Birdell Draper, Reed Jensen</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jesse and Frank Whitmore</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Fae attended as well. They are the 3 fairies in white!</td></tr>
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-45702316775134686932015-08-11T14:05:00.000-05:002015-08-11T14:05:27.604-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 16 & 17<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Monday, August 3, 2015</div>
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I had the blessing of spending some quality time with my nephew Gunnar. We left Lake Tahoe, headed for Salt Lake City, at 6:30 A.M. I have to note that I am one of those people who prefers to get up early and get going and am sometimes impatient when others react negatively to this expectation. Some of my children will attest to this flaw in my character. Gunnar is a typical teenager. He likes to sleep. He was, however, ready and chipper at 6 AM. There was none of the surliness I have sometimes experienced with teens expected to be awake in the early morning. We rolled out, stopped at Safeway for junk food and drinks and by the time we got to Carson Gunnar had gone back to sleep! ;-) It was, in my opinion, the best of both worlds. We got to spend time together, I got to listen to a book on tape and Gunnar was happy. He did wake up after lunch (where we had a conversation about baseball) to watch some "The Big Bang Theory" on the DVD player.</div>
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We went to the Texas Roadhouse for dinner. Gunnar was pretty happy with his food! I ordered my favorite fried pickles - so everybody was happy.<br />
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Tuesday, August 4, 2015</div>
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My niece's wedding was scheduled for Wednesday but she and her fiance had arranged a get together at Lagoon for their observance of a bachelor/ette party. I dropped Gunnar off at the gate, handed him over to the care of his cousins, and went shopping... Yay!! Everybody got their way again. I like this plan. Around 7 PM Gunnar texted me that he was ready to come home. He had all of this stuff in his arms when I picked him up. Looks like he had fun! My only thought was how in heck are you going to get all that stuff into your tiny suitcase to get on a plane. "Oh ye of little faith!" He even managed to get the basketball into the suitcase! </div>
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-91781585534205872532015-08-02T19:29:00.000-05:002015-08-08T08:42:59.035-05:00Pioneer Trek Day 14 & 15<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Beautiful, beautiful Lake Tahoe. I have had an incredible stay here. I will be packing up and heading back to Salt Lake City tomorrow morning.<br />
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My brother, Billy, has taken some time off to spend with me. He dragged out every photo in the place, including framed ones, which I disassembled for the cause. I have rediscovered my own childhood and reconnected with the childhoods experienced by my siblings. My sister in law, owner of Lavish Floral, has been constructing beautiful flower arrangements nonstop for 3 days but did take time out for the tragic dog attack.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2GEkPaijMI24eYP5UeseTJQ51q3bcYuh71T37jxuIIg5hdi4-NjJxlTyQbM6vjG9o59lE24ADWMzhPt1QbvcR9mHC6LYruJPdxCCBZJ0CzIwreopT0dG90zPty_2naXznAI1EL_g4e_pD/s1600/IMG_3441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2GEkPaijMI24eYP5UeseTJQ51q3bcYuh71T37jxuIIg5hdi4-NjJxlTyQbM6vjG9o59lE24ADWMzhPt1QbvcR9mHC6LYruJPdxCCBZJ0CzIwreopT0dG90zPty_2naXznAI1EL_g4e_pD/s320/IMG_3441.JPG" width="320" /></a>Wyatt (the dog) was minding his own business in the backyard and two big German shepherds dug their way in and attacked him. Poor baby. He keeps walking around doing his best to look pitiful and showing everyone his wound. <img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINQWCzs53oXJJhSlkstY1MshGYinnlKbz1MrZDWXEojCmNT2CLci-zD4c0umwo-XwMb_mVwZsOqJ9RmObA6HC5F9gvTpMDWs_ZicJMjZ-mYH9EexW_lXGGtmlOIZ74aE15Ykxq1i9GQDF/s320/IMG_3440.JPG" width="320" /></div>
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Mom has been my resident history expert. She knows who everyone is and can usually share a story or two about that person.<br />
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After staring at my computer screen for 2 days solid I got a craving for Swedish meatballs (Monte's family recipe). I also used my great grandmother's recipe to make some banana bread. Yum!<br />
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One of the pictures I encountered is this one of my daughter Brenda. Brenda is standing in the house we lived in on Bell Street in Winnemucca. She had a favorite joke. She would ask "Do you belong to the stomach club?" Then when you answered "no" she would grin big and hold out her hand and say, "Then turn in your belly button!!"<br />
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<br />Sunday, Day 15 - Sacrament Meeting<br />
I attended Sacrament meeting at the South Tahoe Chapel. Over the past 35 years since my baptism into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints I have attended meetings in many different wards. What I find, as a truly shy person, is that I can always feel comfortable and welcome. One of the things our leaders and our beliefs teach us often is the infinite value of of each person and the importance of helping visitors feel welcome. This was (and was not) the case on this day. First, the routines are familiar, someone standing in the foyer greeting people, prelude music playing, agendas. This was the first Sunday of the month which is traditionally reserved as a Fast and Testimony meeting. What this means is the we abstain from food and water for 2 meals before this meeting (a fast) dedicating that observance for a specific cause. So, I came in and found the routines familiar and the faces friendly. Many people smiled and greeted me with a "good morning" but no one introduced themselves as would be usual when someone is a visitor. I was expecting a small ward, even a branch maybe, but the chapel filled to overflowing and the doors to the cultural hall had to be opened to accommodate the overflow. By the time the service started the cultural hall was half full. I sat wondering if this was a missionary farewell or some other special event for this ward, but my confusion was all cleared up when the first counselor started the meeting. He welcomed all visitors noting that looking out over the audience he estimated that at least 80% of the assembled were visitors! Wow!! The greatest part of this small experience was the affirmation that membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints can bring strangers together in fellowship without tension or discomfort but also that dedication to the covenants we have made with our Savior (the promise and necessity of partaking of the Sacrament) is not suspended for vacation time - being there was a pleasure not a duty or obligation.<br />
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-63853344060510182122015-07-31T11:49:00.000-05:002015-07-31T11:49:57.151-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 11 and 12<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Beautiful Lake Tahoe!</b></span></div>
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I set out Wednesday morning headed for Lake Tahoe, the place I refer to when asked where I grew up. It isn't completely accurate but that's a better answer than "Oh, around" </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyqxe2oddVy9T4Bf6xW6BH0S4sY5SG205e35H3KNgAh2tE-Vn3NGSs9-4B6kF6ZhapQmFQQwGcJQ67u-fovY_edLWAAnqX9Mka1GraSqf_7kE-ra-slwcMAV1z0Z86Kd8gIn25mZl84Mz/s1600/DSCN0767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyqxe2oddVy9T4Bf6xW6BH0S4sY5SG205e35H3KNgAh2tE-Vn3NGSs9-4B6kF6ZhapQmFQQwGcJQ67u-fovY_edLWAAnqX9Mka1GraSqf_7kE-ra-slwcMAV1z0Z86Kd8gIn25mZl84Mz/s320/DSCN0767.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sonoma Height Elementary School</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy9V6pLapOoITgKASsbNkRougHAxTG4pe1LRMcJ-ZB47CBbDd4r5ONp-dEAN4uykSAZrNGcYoMDpB3CJJBUdbWJpBUXSj6ThvH75JUZZ8qPZHnaUq7bfZTvDUChpmfL8flO1E6lH_C6x36/s1600/DSCN0759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy9V6pLapOoITgKASsbNkRougHAxTG4pe1LRMcJ-ZB47CBbDd4r5ONp-dEAN4uykSAZrNGcYoMDpB3CJJBUdbWJpBUXSj6ThvH75JUZZ8qPZHnaUq7bfZTvDUChpmfL8flO1E6lH_C6x36/s320/DSCN0759.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6un8s9BMETZsHEyX9D9LwdrPv9MjNKCfyAVItYSSLUiaFqNgXRm3cayxphXib_pRHfTN_PD5IfJaVvIoCNQ4KzHaqJeBMdOJpRSTjQwpfjLctovqaaSZaEpMHFgBW8qEde5NlrYAVb_HY/s1600/DSCN0761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6un8s9BMETZsHEyX9D9LwdrPv9MjNKCfyAVItYSSLUiaFqNgXRm3cayxphXib_pRHfTN_PD5IfJaVvIoCNQ4KzHaqJeBMdOJpRSTjQwpfjLctovqaaSZaEpMHFgBW8qEde5NlrYAVb_HY/s320/DSCN0761.JPG" width="320" /></a>Since this report has been chronological thus far, however, I won't get ahead of myself. I will admit that a drive across Nevada is not exactly the height of adventure. At least not for me, I did stop in Winnemucca though. Two of my 3 children were born while we lived in Winnemucca and I couldn't resist driving around to see what I could remember and what was still standing, etc. It made me feel a little sad, though I'm not sure why. First, of course, I looked up the house we lived in. It is easy to find. It is on the corner of Bell and Harmony - a musical address. I didn't take a picture. It was painted a truly horrendous color of green, obviously a DIY job. The paint job was awful and there were several motorcycles and broken vehicles parked outside. AND the yard was beyond dead. I laid the sod in that yard myself. I drove my sedan out to the sod farm and loaded up as much as the shocks would bear into my trunk, drove to my house, unloaded the sod and then went back for more until I had enough to cover the yard. Then the kids and I laid the sod down. My husband was on a fishing trip. He came home to a transformed yard. It is a very small, old house and I didn't really expect it to be a showplace but I really didn't want to preserve a picture of what it looks like now. Pictured are some of our old haunts. Anna and Brenda went to Sonoma Heights Elementary School. Anna had a memorable birthday party at Round Table Pizza. Brenda had a particularly memorable birthday party at the city park across from the house on Bell street but it was a golf course right next to the expanded hospital. Guess doctors in Winnemucca don't have enough to do.<br />
Most of our grocery shopping was at Raley's. From the outside it looks just the same to me. The pharmacy looks nearly exactly but they now have an in store cafe which I'm sure did not exist!<br />
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For "emergency" needs and for the best chorizos you've ever eaten we went to Uptown market - one block away from home. The owners were friends of ours but I didn't go in. I can't remember their names right now and I'm not assertive enough to risk it. <br />
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From there I headed for Lake Tahoe. The drive was uneventful, except gas in Reno was a shocker - a dollar more than I paid in Minnesota! Here is a current picture of the High School I attended. It is bigger than it was ;-) I graduated in a class of 27. We had 300 students in the Junior High and High School combined.<br />
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Day 12 - Billy hauled out pictures and I started scanning. Mom talked and we reminisced. It was really fun. Tina is hard at work arranging flowers but Billy (my brother) worked extra hours so he could be off work while I am here. I feel so loved!!<br />
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Pictured here is my sister Brenda and baby brother Billy. circa 1965memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-16414127335247828952015-07-30T21:40:00.002-05:002015-07-30T21:40:16.027-05:00My Pioneer Trek, Day 10<b>Tuesday, Day 10</b><br />
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So, I arrived Monday evening at my aunt and uncle's house. What a lovely place they have. Darrel's ranch has belonged to his family for 5 generations! I had a room with a view and my very own bathroom. Aunt Carol had a photo album with every picture labeled! On Tuesday I spent 8 hours scanning those photos. Carol even took framed photos apart so I could scan those. The whole time I was commandeering the greatest portion of her generous kitchen table she was making sure I stayed well fed physically and emotionally. Aunt Carol shared family stories and information nearly nonstop. I could write a book! SO much fun!<br />
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memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-47492922504953248562015-07-30T20:46:00.000-05:002015-07-30T20:46:18.003-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 7, 8 & 9<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Saturday!! Day 7</b><br />
Well, my Dad was a really good sport about this whole mission I am on. Of course I started talking about pictures/stories as soon as I arrived on Friday night - while he was trying to feed me. He kinda flapped his hands a little and I could see he had his reservations about this project but he rallied and dragged out a lovely pile of treasures. I've posted a few interesting pics that I will not explain at this point - "Keep 'em guessing" is my motto. I got so excited that my eyes popped open at 4:30 AM and I started scanning photos. <br />
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Dad and Diane pushed food and drink at me at regular intervals. They
were a great tag team for identifying faces, places, and stories. My
father shared many interesting things about himself and his parents and
grandparents. In the meantime they pretty much waited on me hand and
foot. I managed to scan more than 500 photos by noon. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZPD1x7lOo0HOJQB_DvVfYkZP15IWQmD6sCoY4PKCuHWMYGD217_ONVYTA2L5BQGLlMVApOlu9rSNOcc6T2AYlalENxdZCjuZN1MYEYd-rniNeSSv82Gw9mzbPM4DR3KM2uvdQA3DVOKf/s1600/IMG_3339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZPD1x7lOo0HOJQB_DvVfYkZP15IWQmD6sCoY4PKCuHWMYGD217_ONVYTA2L5BQGLlMVApOlu9rSNOcc6T2AYlalENxdZCjuZN1MYEYd-rniNeSSv82Gw9mzbPM4DR3KM2uvdQA3DVOKf/s200/IMG_3339.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VdTZAI3Il4Ar02GxcPJfZmL4q6m3WzGLyOznGuITbS40h17PNP_GDJwiKTsDFUtfw4BW6sayDvaMcWxvglbt7EdZ29RseAiH8Gqe3Pf617P2VC9hKPp9gHHwQdSg6o-Dh8KWd4iF2XEf/s1600/IMG_3338.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VdTZAI3Il4Ar02GxcPJfZmL4q6m3WzGLyOznGuITbS40h17PNP_GDJwiKTsDFUtfw4BW6sayDvaMcWxvglbt7EdZ29RseAiH8Gqe3Pf617P2VC9hKPp9gHHwQdSg6o-Dh8KWd4iF2XEf/s200/IMG_3338.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
Then we went to lunch at Chuck-a-Rama.That was a lot of fun. We yacked and people watched and I ate too much. ;-)<br />
Somewhere in there I also managed to get my laundry done - Thank you kindly parents. And, no I didn't let my mom do my laundry even though she offered. I'd have to give back my grown-up card!<br />
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<b>Sunday, Day 8.</b><br />
I went to church with longtime (seems almost a lifetime) friend, Sue Brown. Sue and her husband Mike have been the kinds of friends who pick up where you left off even when you haven't had contact for years. We occasionally "meet" on facebook but that is minimal. We had a lot of catching up to do and being able to attend church and meet the people who are a part of her life was a great way to do that. On the spiritual side of things I need to note that I had 2 purposes when I set out on my Trek. The first was to gather family history, connect with my ancestors, and reconnect with family and friends after finding myself disconnected through distance and laziness. Then the second purpose was to heal my bruised soul after having a very difficult winter. At this point I can't remember the specific talks or lessons (except the Relief Society lesson but that is a blog entry for another day) but I do remember the calm feeling of belonging and acceptance. Both of these emotions have been battered by circumstance and neglect over recent years. It was indeed a healing balm - thanks Sue (and Sue's Ward).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMSUY2aRdgRpNMsU3xf3KlQJJcbMTveEorGIC6BZ6Yzot1B3L6E90WYyXzjMMgLNVnK9vHrH4pZ_5lmKuK7ewCG-AjbIgKCIO70Vxc1leDi2sWdguwVgsQAKJkoh3wNCS2k5thezqujcT/s1600/DSCN0712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoMSUY2aRdgRpNMsU3xf3KlQJJcbMTveEorGIC6BZ6Yzot1B3L6E90WYyXzjMMgLNVnK9vHrH4pZ_5lmKuK7ewCG-AjbIgKCIO70Vxc1leDi2sWdguwVgsQAKJkoh3wNCS2k5thezqujcT/s320/DSCN0712.JPG" width="320" /></a><b>Monday, Day 9</b><br />
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Monday morning I headed for Wendover. <br />
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I took a few pictures - and if a picture is worth a thousand words you don't need anymore of mine.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMI4_dkF1iVOQ49xUO077c4RSaHUqXZc6Pb2TJ5ZUh8xP90nsA_SEWVkzcuTk0zJwGKfwV9V7_Vll2o7H7Qj3Q8Pp9b7DKVY-hA1GftFEVcBLY2iEJdqxbzR-9QPfvG3s2MD9aFpM3A8vV/s1600/IMG_3350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMI4_dkF1iVOQ49xUO077c4RSaHUqXZc6Pb2TJ5ZUh8xP90nsA_SEWVkzcuTk0zJwGKfwV9V7_Vll2o7H7Qj3Q8Pp9b7DKVY-hA1GftFEVcBLY2iEJdqxbzR-9QPfvG3s2MD9aFpM3A8vV/s200/IMG_3350.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfQG_odXUUSa1A7rb3j96Ha0-eO_-h-v0KdTretCv4RG1oP3V3iRmtl9qfzNBwe-BGzM2or_Gi62zGoVGHKiA-bLYc9Yeor0_u4hxjVLSxv9e3j6euKnf37cbvmbpS1p9c-MkkQCSxaaJ/s1600/IMG_3353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfQG_odXUUSa1A7rb3j96Ha0-eO_-h-v0KdTretCv4RG1oP3V3iRmtl9qfzNBwe-BGzM2or_Gi62zGoVGHKiA-bLYc9Yeor0_u4hxjVLSxv9e3j6euKnf37cbvmbpS1p9c-MkkQCSxaaJ/s200/IMG_3353.JPG" width="200" /></a>Lunch at someplace the locals refer to as the "Metro" it was actually named something else but the food was amazing and the company better.<br />
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Next we went back to the Draper's house for cake, courtesy of Jessie's talents.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Happy Birthday Sara!</b></span><br />
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While the kids ate Smurf cake and watched some cartoons the adults went through photographs. Of course I didn't take photos of the photo perusal but I think I should have. It was a little like Christmas. Everyone sitting around with their own little pile of treasures saying "Oh look! What do you suppose that was about? Do you remember this?" and "Wow! I didn't know that!"<br />
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After going through the pictures I drove to Rush Valley to see Aunt Carol and Uncle Darrell.<br />
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But that's a story for another day. <br />
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memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-23339588901956778332015-07-25T20:10:00.000-05:002015-07-25T20:10:25.425-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 6<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguK4nlsF7NMmG_VPbsW9CiHOw9bjNYwuUvS1VbnCwLaeBq33w1YMskpzmCD228GC3qCywzj6G9CNTTAbEZrW2VGx6vURWfk9aQIiF6Tb-miIle1-xCiBaZB3_icoaiyv9PYEPDPHxR9RGb/s1600/DSCN0530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguK4nlsF7NMmG_VPbsW9CiHOw9bjNYwuUvS1VbnCwLaeBq33w1YMskpzmCD228GC3qCywzj6G9CNTTAbEZrW2VGx6vURWfk9aQIiF6Tb-miIle1-xCiBaZB3_icoaiyv9PYEPDPHxR9RGb/s200/DSCN0530.JPG" width="200" /></a> This tale begins with a prime example of how the little frustrating things in life can turn out to be an opportunity. I was jetting down the highway after leaving Paonia, CO, hoping I'd chosen the best road to get to Salt Lake City. I discovered that stretch of highway has an 80 mile an hour speed limit so I was having some fun playing with the cruise control on my new car. I was just considering that I should make a pit stop for the call of nature (old lady euphemism, I know) when I realized I was passing a rest stop - on the wrong side of the road, with a semi between me and the exit. Those of you who would like to see me make it to my next birthday will be glad to hear that I missed the exit. The sign said "next services 60 miles" as I barreled past. So, I'm thinking "I hope I can wait that long." Shortly after that I also began to realize that this is a part of the country I'd never seen before. How could I have lived my whole life in Utah and traveled around the west without ever seeing this part of it? I was playing with the idea of trying to take pictures while I was driving when I saw a sign ahead! It said "Harley's Dome View Area" and I was just in time to make the exit - go figure. As I pulled in, I realized it also had a bathroom . . . of sorts. The reality was that it was the non flushing type <i>and </i>it was filthy. I won't go into details. I will just say that anyone who needs to sit down to go would not go in there.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_fq9EcY-Zx0xZwumSGTtG6EinCtKkM_5Owzu92E7KzCQrkqpjA7f8XjXAowydnuOMVcz7U9lflJraI9XAv0fo4WXvgscVDOg6okTefxZaSFXK3Wnr4l479EsxwMgAdmvDUs_Yk22tlzHI/s1600/DSCN0535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_fq9EcY-Zx0xZwumSGTtG6EinCtKkM_5Owzu92E7KzCQrkqpjA7f8XjXAowydnuOMVcz7U9lflJraI9XAv0fo4WXvgscVDOg6okTefxZaSFXK3Wnr4l479EsxwMgAdmvDUs_Yk22tlzHI/s640/DSCN0535.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhC-k_wEh6cJTFnSmif1ndv_7tVwkZLiH_OyV8bgRDBKtT8N6FzFaoEqMl6Gh8g2vhO7pQCdGlSUPGkJow6lFDuIm9tQB9qlZye7jrXHZUI-kycQW9ZnWfxHBC8xmSjQYfi1InJby_r0dX/s1600/DSCN0534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhC-k_wEh6cJTFnSmif1ndv_7tVwkZLiH_OyV8bgRDBKtT8N6FzFaoEqMl6Gh8g2vhO7pQCdGlSUPGkJow6lFDuIm9tQB9qlZye7jrXHZUI-kycQW9ZnWfxHBC8xmSjQYfi1InJby_r0dX/s640/DSCN0534.JPG" width="640" /></a>While I stood there debating I looked around. The view, just standing by the john (I'm sure there's a John Bytheway quote in there somewhere), was spectacular. I forgot all about the outhouse and it's problems - there was a hill to climb and I intended to take a picture from the top. Halfway up I had to pause to huff and puff but climb I did. It was so worth it. The best part is that I got to see the view; I can share it with you; and I can mark "exercise" off my daily to do list. Go team Jan!<br /><br />
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Then, as I came back down the hill I was thinking "I wonder if there is a geocache near here" Sure enough I had just enough juice in my phone to find that there was a cache hidden with in .2 of a mile to the spot I was standing - then my phone died. If you are familiar with geocaching you will know that it is pretty hard to find a cache without the gps function on your phone. What to do, what to do. I know! I'll sit in my nice air conditioned car and charge my phone just enough to go and <i>find that cache!!</i><br />
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While I was thus engaged - a nice man came and cleaned the bathrooms - thoroughly. I also met a nice couple from Oklahoma. They were on a family journey of their own. Their 99 year old relative who lived with them had recently passed away. This lady's request was for her ashes to be scattered in Colorado. This friendly and gregarious couple shared that they had never been to Colorado before and they were sure having a good time. Their plan was to go to California and see the "big trees" on highway 1 and then return by way of Lake Tahoe which they had also never seen. By the time all this information had been relayed the bathrooms were clean, I was refreshed AND my phone was at 36% charge. I found the cache with juice to spare!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjpbqyTGprbbmI9nAWWWZMb-jaTQil8JhXfvJoRCm51ORVp3sN1D32UC_PIbcCLM49RsybLcs1i8Dkmwc5cV8v9kBKqZg_3gGIG3lhsZdpE3fdESI1hw8erdwTDprz2v4alwdhPqX1-8RH/s1600/DSCN0554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjpbqyTGprbbmI9nAWWWZMb-jaTQil8JhXfvJoRCm51ORVp3sN1D32UC_PIbcCLM49RsybLcs1i8Dkmwc5cV8v9kBKqZg_3gGIG3lhsZdpE3fdESI1hw8erdwTDprz2v4alwdhPqX1-8RH/s200/DSCN0554.JPG" width="200" /></a> That was such fun I had to stop at the next spot as well.<br />
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The rest stop was green and well kept with flowers and flushing toilets and everything. <br />
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The hill was steep, very steep, and not paved but I climbed it. Then I walked along the ridge at the top and took pictures to my little heart's content. I even had company. The lizard in the picture (can you find the lizard?) accompanied me along the whole way. Well, it may have been one lizard and 10 or so of his fast little friends. I couldn't really tell.<br />
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Next, I stopped in Price for lunch. I was looking for the way out when it occurred to me that I was probably pretty near Mount Pleasant. I have been reading a biography written by my great, great, grandfather, James Monsen. In it he records about his father's part in founding the town of Mount Pleasant. He writes about what it was like to be a child in this part of Utah in the 1860s and beyond and he talks at length about the town and people of Mount Pleasant and Sanpete County. So I took a detour. The drive itself was a lot of fun. <br />
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The marker below commemorates the massacre of the entire Madsen family. The Madsens were also among those early settlers.<br />
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I will be writing details from Grandpa Monsen's history in my blog <i>Tell Me a Smith Family Story </i>at <a href="http://smithoel.blogspot.com/">smithoel.blogspot.com </a>in the near future so I won't go into great detail here except to say that I was having a great time looking for places he had mentioned and seeing what had become of the place he loved so well.<br />
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In addition - it was Pioneer Day! There was a parade just breaking up. I wondered as I was driving in where all the traffic was going. People in Utah seem to be in a big hurry to get someplace - just saying. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peter Mogensen also known as Peter Monsen's name is about halfway down. His history mentions many of these names. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These little gold plaques explain when the building was originally built and for what purpose. Many of these buildings were built during Grandpa Monsen's childhood in the area.</td></tr>
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I know that my Grandfather was watching my progress this day, hoping to share some of the joys he experienced. I'm grateful for his loving diligence in providing a written history to help me connect with our family's inspiring accomplishments. I'm also grateful for this opportunity to become better acquainted with my ancestors.<br />
<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-64852703614020331642015-07-25T17:17:00.000-05:002015-07-25T17:17:12.765-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 5 - Udy's HouseI have to begin this post with a clarification. Brenda did not refer to herself as a firefighter. She is a dispatcher who has had some experience in the field and hopes for more. In my head as she talked it is a team effort and so I clumped the whole team together as firefighters because those who actually deal with the fire can't do the job without the other members of that team. My sweet, honest girl wanted to be sure I don't misrepresent what she does. ;-)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsphrsU6LcmutIpfVI3xpjNmekDRzGywejoJCRTa8OIuCmgZZLGhlPyofYJeCPXvjdyfa92WdA38m4Sjjt8IdYL-24hofG00sAM1nVoXsQqBJtbes1qHhui-ivKnrvb6mQzJER3VBv5LS/s1600/DSCN0500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsphrsU6LcmutIpfVI3xpjNmekDRzGywejoJCRTa8OIuCmgZZLGhlPyofYJeCPXvjdyfa92WdA38m4Sjjt8IdYL-24hofG00sAM1nVoXsQqBJtbes1qHhui-ivKnrvb6mQzJER3VBv5LS/s200/DSCN0500.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cookie, overseeing my progress</td></tr>
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Now - for day 5 of my Trek. It was a quiet day. I was able to catch up with some reading and some writing I need to be working on. I had help.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA4x9Bgv55a-n6_bUcYE5MxRX4ndekU5SuVQQ6Y19FgTrcpgoLfYXcGJKOpTToSnE-IahA6rn_Il5zyl2XYfjUaeYMN7AEnNlI7U6-ihq-4TXd9ZhOnqJ8NIlY8MpL5qSCHoInr_lHcNZ/s1600/DSCN0508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA4x9Bgv55a-n6_bUcYE5MxRX4ndekU5SuVQQ6Y19FgTrcpgoLfYXcGJKOpTToSnE-IahA6rn_Il5zyl2XYfjUaeYMN7AEnNlI7U6-ihq-4TXd9ZhOnqJ8NIlY8MpL5qSCHoInr_lHcNZ/s320/DSCN0508.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
Daevius and I had a chance to hang out a little while he supervised the dogs. It was fun to talk about his favorite things to do. Then in the evening Daevius and I went Geocaching together. My phone died before we could find the cache but Daevius was patient about it and I met one of his friends - a bonus!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrf525Ci5H4T5HVnlc91oZwtNsCPhiBL-p_wGN-E70BqtAM43b4ZiTuvlGjy52a3QKau6-HHqwo5TBIP0-sx73D1Ii-JfOwr7eRIbib52dy7h5WH8OOv5lRrUYAqZ2MlC0ETjKvo-Ha_P/s1600/DSCN0511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrf525Ci5H4T5HVnlc91oZwtNsCPhiBL-p_wGN-E70BqtAM43b4ZiTuvlGjy52a3QKau6-HHqwo5TBIP0-sx73D1Ii-JfOwr7eRIbib52dy7h5WH8OOv5lRrUYAqZ2MlC0ETjKvo-Ha_P/s200/DSCN0511.JPG" width="200" /></a> These two sweet girls also have kept me company while I visited. Mazzie (sp?) and Tippers made sure to keep a close eye on all of my activities. Even to the point that Mazzie began acting protective of me. I feel so loved<br />
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I had fun "helping" Derek make German Chocolate Cupcakes in honor of his twin's birthday. It seems that this is one of his favorites. The bone truth is that aside from giving lots of opinionated advice, I didn't help at all. The cupcakes were delicious and completely vegan. I can't wait to make some at home. Derek's brother and his daughter (and the dog) arrived for a visit. Dustin is every bit as friendly and welcoming as Derek is. I think it is their upbringing. I have met their mother.<br />
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Brenda made spring rolls. They were awesome and I was even able to be a little helpful with those since I make them at home as well. It was one of the wonderful moments when the mom has a chance to learn some things from her grown up daughter. I learned a few tips for ingredients I'd never thought of. Brenda likes sweet potatoes in spring rolls - yum. And I sincerely hope I can duplicate her peanut sauce recipe.<br />
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-76028001252503978332015-07-23T11:00:00.000-05:002015-07-23T11:00:34.136-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 4Wednesday, July 22 - Vacation.<br />
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I spent a large portion of my day hanging out with my daughter, Brenda. This is a rare and treasured experience. It is such a bittersweet blessing to watch your children be adults - at least for me. In my confident youth I remember telling myself I'd never be that "old person" who spoke of regrets but self evaluation breeds thoughts of opportunities missed. I will decline to air those here with one bit of sage advice. Regrets are only a useful form of reflection if they inspire you to make a better effort, enjoy every minute, and accept yourself the way you are. Then put it away it is one of those emotions that hinder forward progress. That said, I want to share some of the things Brenda and I talked about.<br />
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Brenda is a seasonal firefighter. She works mostly dispatch but is happy to be in the field whenever the opportunity arises. <br />
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Of course I wanted to know what she does at work. I won't presume to report details here of an occupation in which I have no expertise. I just want to report a few of the things that struck me about what these valiant people do.<br />
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1. I had never considered the amount of intelligence that needs to go into containing a forest fire (or any fire for that matter). Brenda said that as crews are being assembled and organized the report providing the information they will need is 20 pages or more. Probably silly of me but the layman's experience is what you see in a movie - the alarm goes up and everyone scurries to their post with the voice of the dispatcher coming over speakers and radios just barking directions. Common sense says you need to know where and how big and maybe what direction the wind is blowing, weather and season. Maybe people with more common sense than myself would have already considered that you also need to know who it belongs to, what their rights and concerns of that ownership might be. One of the big issues in the desert west is water rights. If firefighters use a whole bunch of water that belongs to someone else is that infringing on their rights? There are people who would say it is!!<br />
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2. The number and scope of the agencies who must collaborate to put out a fire, fire fighters from separate organizations local and imported are a given but the effort may also include military and law inforcement and others. Brenda commented that just knowing the various lingo is challenging in order to keep communication effective. I noted that she's amazing and they are lucky to have someone with her varied experience. I could be a little biased but I don't think so.<br />
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To wrap up we watched Disney's Airplanes: Fire & Rescue. It was a fun movie. Brenda's comment "They keep talking about saving lives. For most of us it begins with saving the forest." New perspectives are what interpersonal relationships are all about.<br />
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As a cap to a great day we all drove to Grand Junction for dinner and a movie. I have to say, while the movie was cute and funny (Minions), the most entertaining part was the conversations in the car on the drive over and back. Derek and Brenda are great, attentive parents and Daevius and Xavey are typical teens figuring out who they are and what they want. It has been fun to watch it in person.memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-51226152439523748152015-07-21T21:03:00.000-05:002015-07-21T21:03:16.852-05:00My Pioneer Trek Day 2 & 3 Monday morning. . . I left Nebraska and headed for Colorado with a
cooler full of pop, a bag of junk food, and a new audio book to listen
to. I may be nearing Nirvana now!!<br />
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I was struck by the abrupt change in terrain when I crossed the border into Colorado thinking how it went from green to brown but by the time I had begun to climb into the Rocky Mountains I was experiencing some serious nostalgic recall.<br />
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Mountains! and pine trees!<br />
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I spent the greater part of my school years living in Lake Tahoe. This felt like coming home. These pictures are Vail.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjveMP_qzyWrT_HKA3aXBg-TdHLNCB_ccnOkdmmu0t1D0DnWpFTTrGBrfOTP12hiOp1lVP3NVccW_1jaHylI6RlwlFIGYXy01U3hnwjdwfxs9XIzRx8jVQQxGhnG3HUsN9R1ymY_MrdIgaa/s1600/DSCN0487.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjveMP_qzyWrT_HKA3aXBg-TdHLNCB_ccnOkdmmu0t1D0DnWpFTTrGBrfOTP12hiOp1lVP3NVccW_1jaHylI6RlwlFIGYXy01U3hnwjdwfxs9XIzRx8jVQQxGhnG3HUsN9R1ymY_MrdIgaa/s200/DSCN0487.jpg" width="200" /></a> Then it started to rain. It has been a very long time since I navigated curvy mountain roads so the added "challenge" of rain was nerve wracking. But I managed to get to Paonia safe and sound.<br />
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Tuesday, Xavey and Daevius played tour guide. We did a brief walking tour of Paonia.<br />
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We started with "church street". Not the name of the street but since several churches reside within a couple of blocks it is an apt description. My favorite was the "Castle Church". <br />
It started to rain along the way so we headed for the Library. Then Brenda and Derek got worried and delivered umbrellas to the library we wouldn't get wet. I swear they are waiting on me hand and foot - no complaints ;-)<br />
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Then Brenda and Derek made Pho (Vietnamese soup)- yummy and wrapped up the day with a Transformers movie with Daevius.<br />
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-58407000616615411862015-07-19T21:14:00.000-05:002015-07-19T21:14:51.929-05:00My Pioneer Trek - Day 1 One of the metaphors that is frequently used when discussing the intricacies of this life we live is that of a tapestry. Each event, goal, challenge, personality, and relationship is a thread woven together into a shining (or raveling) work of wonder. I propose that an equally poignant image of our experience on this earth may be represented by a quilt. The light and dark patches each making equal contributions to the whole. Beautiful vibrant colored special events creating highlighted windows framed by the everyday colors.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHIdwVdJyf32oqYngNyKu7Zl8NE4r1TGtVM59c8JceuToerc0OmoykI1keKr3qGT2bnmR8EyeATnpOLQ8f6Z50sXwrUvBuDOGPamzok3tafMtMoZ_WiBKXDJOshcevPI_U5zL9NaDoDQl/s1600/IMG_0258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHIdwVdJyf32oqYngNyKu7Zl8NE4r1TGtVM59c8JceuToerc0OmoykI1keKr3qGT2bnmR8EyeATnpOLQ8f6Z50sXwrUvBuDOGPamzok3tafMtMoZ_WiBKXDJOshcevPI_U5zL9NaDoDQl/s320/IMG_0258.JPG" width="320" /></a> I have to start with yesterday's events. My sweet grandson Benjamin was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He covenanted with our Father in Heaven to keep the commandments and follow the example of the Savior. The service was short and very sweet. Despite the fact that it is sometimes difficult to tell what Ben understands, it was clear to me that he understood the promises he was making. There was so much joy in the event! My son, Bill, mentioned a couple of days ago that when we are striving toward an event of this magnitude, the adversary will try to waylay us. He has been extraordinarily busy, Stephanie (Ben's mom) has been feeling under the weather (and is expecting!!) See, one bright shining event surrounded by darker or mundane patches and stitched together with the continuous threads of faithful determination.<br />
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Likewise, after attending Ben's baptism we were able to attend a Graduation celebration for my neice and nephew, Wyatt and Willa - another shining benchmark. One vibrant spot that is the culmination of years of daily stitches. Stitches that can only be placed in the work one at a time, patiently, precisely, and with a willingness to remove those that are not up to the standard we want. If we want our lives to be the works of art God intends we will have to remove and restitch those pieces that are less than that. <br />
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Now for the rest of the story. The next few entries will be a chronicle of my "pioneer trek". I am discovering my family on both sides of the veil. My intent is to drive to Salt Lake City and surrounding areas to visit with relatives, scan old family photos, and record family stories. From there I will go to Wendover and then Lake Tahoe with the same mission. Today was the first day of that trek. In the meantime I am thoroughly enjoying the journey. The midwest, ie Minnesota, Iowa, and Nebraska are breathtakingly beautiful. I drove to Lincoln, Nebraska today and I stopped many times just to look - just because I can. I visited the International Quilt Study Center and Museum and waxed poetic ;-)memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-71875846468232005422015-07-13T20:58:00.000-05:002015-07-13T20:58:59.515-05:00Glorious Summer! I have been far too focused on myself this summer but it feels wonderful. I have given myself permission to finish only one or two items from my "to do" list each day. Monte and I drove to Texas together for Marshall and Andrea Oelkers' wedding reception. I enjoyed the drive but Monte does not like to let me drive so I don't think he had much fun. It tended to hurt my feelings but then as previously noted I recognize that I have been far too sensitive lately so I choose not to feel that way about it. I enjoyed it. I came home with a sore throat that developed into a doozy of a chest cold and I have been trying to hack up a lung all week. I was really cranky with my sweet mother in law when she came to my house to try to help with our 4th of July party. All I could think was how much I didn't want her to get sick and how the assignments for food had been made so people would have whatever they had. In the end, her help was wonderful, as always, and made the day a nicer day for everyone. I was too sick to participate in the party so I laid in bed listening to the party taking place outside. A couple of people took their chances and came in to give me a hug but I still felt pretty sorry for myself.<br />
I'm getting ready now for my Family History Trek! I bought a portable scanner and have been scanning lots of pics so that I won't waste time getting something I already had in a box. I've booked rooms and read some of the histories I've already collected but put off reading. One note to myself and any of my children who might decide to read this. I have the life history written by James Monsen who is my Grandmother Anna's grandfather. It is a little scattered to read but it is awesome in the history that is recorded in those pages. I'm loving it - I am planning to blog about the stories he has recorded. You, reader, can find those entries in my "Tell Me a Smith Family Story" blog. I also have been reading the <u>LeCheminant</u> book that contains memories recorded from the LeCheminant descendants. Info from those sketches will be in the "Tell Me a Jensen Family Story" blog. I'll note that I don't intend to scan and paste the pages of these histories into a blog. I will be posting pics and documents to FamilySearch.org but I want to record the histories from my own perspective and emotional connection. Anyway, the long awaited trip is getting closer and I'm really excited.<br />
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<br />memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5244543395005968093.post-57295901607662196662015-05-03T17:39:00.002-05:002015-07-13T20:30:05.333-05:00SunshineAs the thunder rolls outside, I reviewed my progress this week and found that I have made some advances even as I did some backsliding. At some point I will talk about my job and the love hate relationship I have with it but at this point I'm feeling a need to chronicle my journey back to being the person I want to be. I have begun with a morning prayer, by myself and on my knees followed by a chapter from the Book of Mormon. It sounds more "righteous" than it is. I hit my knees as I slide out of bed, plead for motivation even as I recognize the amazing gifts I've been given, and then listen to the chapter of the book of Mormon as I fix a breakfast I don't want to eat. It's progress though. May is here, the sunshine has made the Minnesota world a lovely green place and that sunshine and new growth is creeping into other areas of my life as well.<br />
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Today was fast Sunday, a day when we abstain from food and drink for 24 hours. I didn't quite make it. I skipped 2 meals ;-0 Still hearing the testimonies in Sacrament meeting and reviewing my own as I taught my students about the power of the priesthood <br />
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So here is what is happening lately in the Monte & Jan Oelkers "Odd" yssey. <br />
1. My sweet sister, Brenda Draper, died in January. I miss her, my heart is broken and her loss has demonstrated to me that life is too short. Knowing how often in the last few years I "didn't have time" to call her when I wanted to because of my job or trying to finish my thesis or whatever else I let be a priority just makes me feel angry - not helpful.<br />
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2. My Son, Bill, and his beautiful wife, Stephanie, and their children, Ben and Elodie, were sealed in the St. Paul Temple for time and all eternity the day after I returned from Brenda's funeral. It fills me with joy to know this. I am so proud of them all.<br />
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3. My sweet Mother in Law fell off a step ladder on the first day of spring break and broke her arm. I am grateful that I was able to be available to help her. It has strengthened out relationship. I hate to think of a broken arm as a blessing but there it is. She is currently on the mend. I was able to go fabric shopping with her yesterday and we had lunch at Acapulco. There's that ray of sunshine again. <br />
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3. I am planning to spend as much of the summer as I can in Utah and Nevada (Lake Tahoe). I want to gather photos and family stories before I am too late to do it.<br />
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There is SO much more. One step at a time.memories by Janhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00408473474256537557noreply@blogger.com0