Broken

It will be Veterans Day tomorrow.

I have been still today.

Quiet, reflective, still.

I can't begin to imagine that I could write a thought that would ever bring light to the subject of what war means to those who are Veterans; or to those who know Veterans, and more, to those who have loss because of war.

I know that war was a subject that I never heard my Grandfather speak of until I had children of my own.

I know that my Grandmother never spoke of war without a shake in her voice, and tears in her eyes.

I know that war brings a blanket of sadness for both sides.

I want to write, for today, about my Grandfather.
Grandpa, a Veteran, a man of honor, of truth, of valiant courage, and a man of love.

I want to acknowledge that to him, he was only doing his part to fulfill a responsibility, much like we today, do what we can to fulfill ours.
But he did it for people he had only heard of, who he would never meet, who would never even know to thank him.

With many wars, even specifically today, there is no true thanks, only debates;
only people on both sides over-talking one another.

Is it right, wrong; who is right, wrong? I won't pretend to know or even understand.

And war is thankless; and it is not respected to the degree that we, who keep to our own responsibilities, should respectfully give thanks.

I hope in my life to honor my Grandfather. The man who as a boy signed a paper to serve, and said a prayer with a promise that he would do all that he was asked.

He lived every part of his life from then on to keep that promise, while hoping to keep the promise he made to my Grandmother; to come home.

But if it not be thy will, he would keep his word to protect those who could not protect themselves. The time of war, World War II; different than today, and yet the same.
Always a bullying problem in our world. Grandpa did not ask questions, only fulfilled his duty, with courage.

On the wings of a prayer, he came home. He didn't speak of what he had experienced, only cherished those who he was thankful to come home to.

Because he came home, I have Aunts and Uncles.
Because he came home I love education.
Because he came home I know that the most peaceful sound is that of the trumpet. I know what Taps is and I know what the meaning behind Taps is. I have heard him play for dozens of soldiers, not forgotten; ever, even in time of their own passing.

Because he came home, I know what it means to serve.
Because he came home, I think every lunch should respectively be a noon-time meal, and that no one should have to eat alone.

I know that it is okay to use your best china for lunch, and paper plates for fine dinners.

I know that cookies are full of nourishment, and if you have them with a glass of milk, they make a meal.

Because he came home I give thanks to all who serve, where ever they are asked, what ever they are asked to do, and with a full heart.

Because he came home, I know how to devour a good book. I know how to take quiet time, to take a walk away from the chaos of life, to reflect, to meditate, to ponder.

I know that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true. I know that music lifts even the most down trodden. I know that blessings heal, and give guidance; which should be followed.

I know that dancing is delightful, that hard work won't kill you, that growing your own food is full of pleasure. I love the little lambs. I love the smell of rosemary, of aspens, of fish guts.

I love to feel the hand of someone I love holding mine.
I love to hug, and to kiss, and the words I love you can never be said too much.

I know that Brian deserves to be respected, to be loved entirely. To have my patience, my respect. I know that little snide comments hurt a man's heart, yet, forgiving, they will love until the end; and remember them no more. I know that it is possible for a man to love and cherish, protect and serve until even the bitter end.

I know that men love their children, even when they don't say and show it;
that love is deeper than a well of knowledge or understanding could possibly portray.
I know it is possible to spoil a grandchild, because you can't spank Grandpa and Grandma.

Because of Grandpa, I know that you can have favorites.

I know that messes are okay to make, and that "whatever" makes the little things matter, and the big things matter a little less.

I know that forgiveness does heal all things, and that the hardest forgiveness is that for your own mistakes.

I know that my Grandpa was never perfect, but that through the eyes of love, perfection is irrelevant. That living is more important that being perfect. I know that in each of my children are pieces of Grandfather; pieces that I hope they will cherish in themselves.

I know that I am loved.

I know that it is okay to eat dessert first, and to eat dessert all day long if you wish too; as long as no one is looking.

I know it is okay to dance alone, and it doesn't matter if anyone is looking.


My grandfather, who has blessed me in the hardest of my experiences, who has held me, who has laughed, smiled, loved my children, counseled me and my husband, eaten my cooking, cried openly, and prayed intently in faith; has shown me the way.

I know that love can last an entire lifetime.

I know that broken is better. And I know to where to look for healing.

I know that patience, love, long-suffering, and charity are the right way to live.

I know that he is intently aware of every one of his loved ones, so blessed to be many.

This song, is for you today, all of you who take the time to read my ramblings.

Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jlwMQBzfmc4

I know you, I am thankful for you.
To have family, and friends; who I know are hurting in many, many ways. Whether for the loss that is felt in times of death, or struggles with daily life experiences. You know who you are, I know who you are. It is for many of you today. May you feel some sense of peace, knowing that:
"When you're broken in a million little pieces,
And you're trying but you can't hold on anymore.
Every tear falls down for a reason,
Don't you stop believing in yourself."

Lindsey Haun - Broken

Every piece will find a place:

Wake up to a sunny day,
not a cloud up in the sky.

Then it starts to rain,
my defenses hit the ground
And they shatter all around,
so open and exposed.

I found strength in the struggle
Face to face with my trouble.

When you're broken
in a million little pieces
And you're trying
but you can't hold on anymore.

Every tear falls down for a reason
Don't you stop believing in yourself
When you're broken.

Little girl don't be so blue
I know what you're going through
Don't let it beat you up.

Hitting walls and getting scars
Only makes you who you are
Only makes you who you are

No matter how much your heart is aching

There is beauty in the breaking, Yeah.

When you're broken
in a million little pieces.

And you're trying
but you can't hold on anymore.

Every tear falls down for a reason,
Don't you stop believing in yourself.

When you're broken,
Better days are gonna find you once again.

Every piece will find its place
When you're broken, when you're broken.

xoxoxxx

Picture Day!

Gavin Kelly - 8th grade

Why does picture day make you feel like you need to take out a second mortgage?
How fun was our morning, getting 4 kids out the door, with shiny faces and combed hair.
Okay, it doesn't sound that hard, try it sometime.

Breakfast conversation is always hilarious:

Jeremy: How's my smile?
Sam: Fine.
Jeremy: I don't want it going all the way up to my eyes. How's it now?
Sam: Fine.

Me: Make sure you smile, no grumpy looks or I will be crying in your future. You will call me up and I will be bawling my eyes out. If you ask I will tell you it is because you didn't smile in your school picture and all I have are frowny faces to remember you by.

Clarissa probably changed her clothing half a dozen times.

Gavin; patiently giving her advice on her clothing.
Being in Junior High make him the resident expert on style these days.

And with the choices in background color that the school gives you now, coordinating colors is critical. The final change brought tears to my eyes, because instead of a little girl, she presented herself, asking, "is this okay?" looking like a teenager. I am not ready for this.

Clarissa Rosebelle - 6th Grade

Hair combed, kids almost out the door, where is Jeremy?

Jeremy Mac - 2nd Grade

Finding him in the dog kennel, for Baxter's last morning love; his hair is array, his smile is huge. Hair or smiles, I have to decide!

Next thing I notice is Sam in the entry mirror practicing his smile.
"Mom, how can I get my best smile?"

Samuel James - 4th Grade

I hug him from behind, "Smile just like when you feel me hugging you, that my favorite."

Wednesday Woes....whoas!

Home from Phoenix and actually looking forward to the Wednesday Routine: Crazy as it sounds!

For anyone who knows us well enough knows that Wednesday is our DAY!!!... for EVERYTHING!!!

Soon I will be on my way to pick up the kids:

305: Pick up Gavin
315: Pick up Clarissa, Alyssa, Samuel, and Jeremy
325: Arrive home, wash hands, after school snacks, check for notes
355: Sam to Piano
425: Pick up Sam, Jeremy to Piano
455: Pick up Jeremy, Clarissa to Piano
515: Gavin to Football, Alyssa picked up by her mom!
600: Clarissa picked up from Piano
625: Sam to scouts, get Austin on the way
725: Sam picked up, Gavin picked up (somehow at the same time)
745: Gavin to Young Men's (quick change, and most times too late!) Uh oh:(
800: DATE??
Relief Society???

Somewhere in between the kids eat, do homework, shower, Brian comes home, I head out to meetings; it just seems that EVERYTHING falls on this night. Gavin's guitar, postponed for now, is also, on Wednesday.

TGITh....Thank goodness for Thursday!, Friday...Monday, Saturday, Sunday, Tuesday....Wednesday makes me count my blessings every other day.

And Wednesday gives me a chance to drive, one on one, with each child; a chance to talk, without interuption, at least one direction, with each little precious person. So I guess I should say: Thank goodness for Wednesday!; and for Home Sweet Home!

Missing Family Night

Probably the hardest thing about being gone for a week is missing family night. We have had Family Home Evening on Monday Nights since Clarissa was about two years old. I remember when we started having them I thought that I had messed up good, we hadn't started when we were first married, we hadn't done them when the kids were really little. Gavin was nearly four, Sam was on the way. Would they turn out okay? I still ask that, but for many worse reasons than not having Family Home Evening!

I guess that for me Family Home Evening is a staple. The one thing we do really, really well. It was fun last Monday, as Brian arrived home, I had not had the best of afternoons...losing my patience, feeling overwhelmed. I had not reminded the kids of their participation parts, and when Jeremy came in to announce to me that I had the "geek" scripture story (really meaning GAK - Gospel Art Kit, but I like how he said geek, so funny). I thought, well look who is not prepared this time. Oh well.

We sat down. The kids already laughing and enjoying themselves. The peace enveloping our home, even with my tirades. We began with the prayer, which after the song the kids reminded Dad that is why we have the song first, to get reverent for the prayer. Sam chose Popcorn Popping. I delighted in singing a springtime song in the fall. And loved watching Brian, always trying to follow along.

Then I had my Scripture Story. I had picked up the New Era and read the Mormon Ad; also talked about the scriptures that are in that New Era regarding the Atonement, which I so need to better understand and access.

I explained to the little boys that Clarissa and Gavin are reading the New Era, rather than the Friend, now, because they are older and it is more applicable to them. That was my part, it went okay.

As I tossed the New Era toward Gavin, thinking he would also have to "fake" his Lesson, he did the most hilarious thing. I totally thought that he wasn't prepared because I hadn't prompted, held his hand, reminded and nagged. He looked right at us all, reached in the back of his pants, and with a very excited "SHAZAM" pulled out the Friend Magazine. Everyone was rolling, I am sure partly at my reaction, because I was totally surprised. Here I had "judged" Gavin, thinking that he could not produce a lesson without me doing my "job" to make sure it ALL happens, and he was prepared all along. Clarissa led us in the pledge (which we added when Jeremy was born, to have another part.)

Yes, this rambling is more for me than anyone else. I learned a great lesson. Gavin read a story about doing service for others. He said that he would like our family to look around, find someone to serve, to rake leaves for "older" people, like even Mel, he is aging and we can do more for them. (His words! not mine). And he bore a sweet and simple testimony.

Brian had the song and prayer, which he did in the right order. I am reminiscing now about singing, Families Can Be Together Forever. I take it for granted that if I just worked a little harder on some things in my life, I could go to the temple, my family could be my promise forever. Now being away from them for a week, missing FHE, I want that so much. It seems unreal to me that I could already hurt missing them so much and to think of an eternity. They are worth it. I am worth it. This is my personal FHE today. I am thinking of putting things in my life in better order, so that I can have this blessing. I am not just denying it from myself, but from them. Jeremy had the treat, thank goodness we had made cookies that afternoon, which he did a great job of serving with milk!!! Yum.

So kids, I love you, Brian, I love you. I miss you terribly. I hope you have a beautiful FHE, and if you can, sing I Feel My Savior's Love...for me. And Yes, I realize that I have the lesson tonight. I missed it. And I am sorry that I am not there to give it. Please forgive me. Read 1 Nephi 3:7, Sing a few songs with Daddy, all the ones you love, and know I love (or have Daddy take you to Artic Circle for the square pumpkins and flashlights, and ice cream - for Family Night Out - since we haven't done it this month)...I Love you....I miss you...

WHAT am I saying?

Gavin, Clarissa, Sam, Jer-bear:
$5 reward for interpretation!!!

Oh Brother!

Jake just happens to be one of the amazing people in my life who makes me smile so much that my cheeks hurt. Talking about cheeks hurting, he is the king of wedgie wars; no I don't know personally, but my kids do. Jake has a way of taking life and making more than lemonaid. Jake, the brother that I told foreeeeevvvvvvvver that he was my twin, just really slow (two years) labor before he finally gave in. I think he believed me. Jake, who loves to read the books I love, who introduces me to the most fascinating music, concepts. Who never tires of talking manic politics, and sharing his idealistic views of the world.

Can you ever say that you miss another person so much in your life that when they are away a part of you is missing? I miss you Jake. I love your visits, your views, sharing your life adds dimensions to mine that stretch my intellect.

ramblings of the political sort

"Closely allied with the trend toward bigger and bigger government is the tendency toward loose fiscal policy, both public and private. This concerns us as free men. 'The borrower is servant to the lender' (Proverbs 22:7). A nation can hang itself on the gallows of excessive public debt-and the United States is no exception." - "The Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson," p. 291

This thought was in my email inbox this morning from WOOL (Words of our Leaders). It has gotten me thinking (imagine) about an NPR commentary that I heard yesterday. Well, more like a full radio program which turned into commentary in my head.


With 41 days until the election how do we get good policy among these politics. America is sick with significant stress due to the fall of the market and increase in oil prices. Congress can't efficiently act upon these things because of campaigning. And government is trying to react to these things with unjustified means in rash decision making.

America is plagued with the damages of confidences; being confidence in our government policy.

We have grave doubts seeing our leaders digging themselves into a deeper political depression. For what is in front of their faces they ought to stand back a bit and examine possibilities. Just one example is the Fanny May and Freddy Mac; including the meddling that the government is doing with the looming and certain foreclosures.

With the current deficit how can the government even be considering buying out the populations mortgages. What is this saying to the people? You can live in your homes, with no foreclosure, while the government owns the home and they become the biggest home owners in the country. All this while neighbors who have sacrificed to stay on top of their mortgages continue to pay their mortgages. The government bails out our people at the expense of the people. What happens when it is the government foreclosing on the people whose first preservation was its leadership?

Is this now a game of chicken between the president and congress? What are we teaching the American people? That we will pay for our irresponsible neighbors, that we will suffer for their over spending and lack of consumer control to live within means. Sounds like a set up for a civil war burgeoning in Americas own communities.

Never is a forced decision a good decision, and all this is coming to potential policy as of Friday. When are we going to see it as headlines, after the fact. Something like, "700 Billion in borrowed government money goes to pay for Homeowners to continue to live well above their means."

It's called the Bailout Proposal. And it is causing outrage as Congress again fails America in order to meet Americans panicked immediate need..

It is much more complicated than my few minutes allow me. This is becoming an art more than a science; a political art. This comes down to the responsibility of our consumers. The way I see out of this mess is our American Consumers need to have a depression. Sounds like harsh medicine, but if the illness continues to spread among our people, we must be prepared to take the prescribed therapy.

It continues to displace market mechanisms as we teach our people to turn to Uncle Sam for "bailout". A serious depression is in order to deal with the credit messes, messes in our own homes and messes within our government set up.


Shall we be afraid. Yes. We are the product of our own credit destruction. Again, what President Benson said, "Closely allied with the trend toward bigger and bigger government is the tendency toward loose fiscal policy, both public and private. This concerns us as free men. 'The borrower is servant to the lender' (Proverbs 22:7). A nation can hang itself on the gallows of excessive public debt-and the United States is no exception." - "The Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson," p. 291

Our nation has hung itself. By bailing out, at the expense of government borrowing money from additional foreign sources is just bad practice. Seriously. How do they decide who deserves to be bailed out and who doesn't, it becomes personal. And it teaches something I don't want my kids learning in History class. Bad credit behavior is rewarded with temporary cream of the crop.

Efforts to reform Fanny May and Freddy Mac have been unsuccessful, and this is the demise of policies driven by the current partnership of congress and the republican party allowing the seeds of financial crash to be planted.

No fingers to point, not point in placing blame, but I don't think playing chicken and then making a rash decision like deer in the headlights is the best possible function that government can offer its people. We are headed into a head-on fatality.

We need to go back to a live and learn society.

Jeremy's lock:
For instance, Jeremy called, much in tears, the first week of school. He had put a lock on his locker and was unable to get into the locker because he had forgotten his keys.

First of all, it's against school policies to put a lock on your locker.

Second of all, it is his personal responsibility that he has what he needs for the day upon arriving at school.

And third, yes, as his mother I went through the reminders, and I did talk to him about that specific school rule being broken, including the consequences of his choice for putting the lock on THAT VERY MORNING.

I made sure, because he is ONLY 7 years old, and in the 2nd grade, that he had his key, that he knew to take the lock off, and that he should not choose to do it again. It is breaking a rule, a policy, which has been put in place at his school by the administration, to protect him from his own discomfort when he finds himself in the future FORGETTING HIS KEY.

So, when I got the phone call from the lovely lady in the office mentioning that he forgot his key, and could not get into his locker, I was quite surprised that I was somehow expected to bail him out. My first reaction was, waahhhh. Not really feeling bad for him

Of course I said, well, he broke a school rule, what are his options.

She asked if I could please talk to him because he was sad. I believe he was sad, but shouldn't he be allowed to feel what he is feeling, to learn, and particularly being he was suffering the consequences of his choices, his behavior.

Of course, not wanting to be the meany, I talked to him. Something like, I am sorry that this has happened, you must be feeling really bad, no I will not bring you the key, what do you think that you can do for today. I offered what I thought was the natural consequence. Get Chris the custodian to come cut the lock off.

Yes, Jeremy had saved his money, and bought the lock on his own. It is a beautiful red lock, combination lock, with a key for memory fault.

He, of course, did not like what I was saying to him. Really, I felt bad, but too bad. This was not something that I felt would do him any good if I came running over to the school, to dry his tears, and unlock his locker. I knew that if I did, it would only happen again, and in many other situations. Situations that would be worse and more painful for him. Situations that I won't be able to bail him out.

I told him that although I felt bad that he was feeling sad, I was now realizing that he was also tardy, and that he should get his "butt" into class because now he was interrupting the learning process; which would serve him better than having a place to store his stuff.

His option was to have Chris cut off his lock or leave his backpack and lunch in the office, but he had better get to class. (Which he informed me that the principle was not giving tardies today because it was only the first week. And I informed him that he was going to owe me time after school writing about the reasons why it is important to be on time, for personal growth and improvement, and respect.)

He went to class.

Later in the day, I was kindly informed that the sweet administration had tended to his wounds, checked in on him to make sure he was not having "a bad day" because of the mornings events.

Yes, I am thankful for kindness in my children's world, but I would also like to see consequences in their world. And a bad day every now and then is NOT the end of the world.



Another of my thoughts: we are in the middle of a supposed water crisis. Why is it easier to say that the water crisis can be solved if people take personal responsibility for their use of the water? Again, responsibility. And the bottom line is that IS what this is ALL about.

Isn't government just justifying our ridiculous spending habits here. Even Obama and McCain, although diversely choosing their course, are promoting this crisis as "a moment to rise above politics." And republicans are opposing the solutions to their inability to reform their own proposals.

What a world we live in today? It's a beautiful day in my neighborhood, how about yours? I should have warned, this is certainly a rambling with slight political opinion, open to comments or alternate opinions.

I will have changed my mind once I go out into the world today and see what the game plays are. I really do hope for reform; Personal reform in how we each live, and recognize how our actions cause reactions that effect much more than our own circumstances.

I say, "cut the lock".

Doesn't get much worse than Gavin's day today.

Listening to Brian and Gavin talk at night should be funny, I'm not sure.

Today Gavin came home with a black eye. Not the first time he has had a black eye.

This particular picture was from a time when he saved a girl from taking a worse fall on the asphalt during a basketball game - 6th grade.

(See how phased Jeremy is, looking for the paparazzi shot.)

Tonights black eye has a story:

Gavin plays basketball with his friends during lunch (always a sport involved).

Heres the conversation:

Brian to Gavin: How did you get the shiner?

Gavin: My eye met with a kid's elbow during the game today.

Brian: How's the kids elbow?

Gavin: Better than Mr. Coleman's leg. (Names have not been changed.)

Brian: What happened to his leg.

Gavin: The ball hit it.

Brian: How?

Gavin: When it bounced off Kaiesh's head, right before his elbow hit my eye.

Brian: So, how did that hurt Mr. Colemans leg.

Gavin: It made his leg fall off.

(Okay, seriously. At this point I begin to really listen, my homework can wait.)

Me: Gavin, that can't happen.

Gavin: Mom, he has a wooden leg.

Me: ...(okay so I didn't really say anything here, I think I was in shock because here are Brian and Gavin laughing right out loud. I personally didn't find it funny.)

Gavin let's us in on the details. Mr. Coleman happened to be walking through the gym, carrying some cd's. Gavin threw the ball, it was knocked out of bounce, hit the wall, off keieshs head, which caused him to hit Gavin in the eye with his elbow, and the ball hit Mr. Coleman walking by and knocked his leg off.

Me: Gavin, did you know he had a wooden leg.

Gavin: Yeah, he takes it off during class.

Me: Did you help him?

Gavin: No, he had a girl go get it and he put it back on, we cleaned up the cd's, and Mr. Coleman got up and walked away.

Me: So, will you be passing Mr. Colemans class this year?

Gavin: Probably not.

I guess another year of typing won't hurt anything.

"isn't that illegal"

No surprise that I would be writing about something illegal, however this came up, I have a dear friend who said I should be sharing these things....here goes.

You would think after so many years of parenting experience...ha ha ha....that things like this would not happen. Alas, maturity would be a key element in preventing me from my own demise.

Our morning routine is a chaotic as anyone's, in the process of getting one husband to work, four kids and a niece to school, and being presentable to be in class, in my seat by 9 am. Okay, 9 am....I should be able to sleep in, right?

Wrong?

5:30 - alarms (plural) go off. Plural because there is Brian's alarm, my alarm, the boys room, Clarissa's and Gavin's....all going off at random times depending on who pushes their sleep button more.

6:00....I am finally getting up, rushing to one of three bathrooms, all being used. Is it okay for Mom's to squat in the backyard. I think we will put in an outhouse, for camping practice purposes, of course.

By 6:30...we should be saying goodbye to Brian, walking the dog, feeding the cat, fish, frog, hamster, and tarantula, as well as filling four children's bellies (why did I ever give up coffee???)

7am - last call for showers. I am finally getting in, hoping for warm water, and knowing that in 15 minutes I need to be making lunches.

7:20 - Gavin comes in and asks, "Mom, can you make my lunch today?" (Generally his responsibility, but he is running late.) To which I reply, "I can either make you a lunch or get dressed!" He answers, "Okay, thanks mom."

7:23 - Me making lunches (in my robe). Thinking that Gavin will wander by, notice, and pitch in.

7:40 - doing dishes, putting finishing touches on lunches, and grabbing my keys IN MY ROBE to drive Gavin to school.

7:40 and a few seconds - Jeremy panicking "Are you seriously driving Gavin to school in THAT?" Me, "Yes and when I get back if you are not ready I will be driving you and walking you to class in THIS!"

7:45 - One late niece....have to get Gavin to school so (AND HERE IS WHERE I WENT WRONG) ...leaving the kids home - Clarissa, Sam and Jeremy - I drive Gavin to school.

No, no accident in which I would be mortified in my robe. I wasn't lucky enough. I was hoping this would be the grand lesson for Gavin, but not today. He barely even noticed that I had driven him in my robe....however, he did notice that I made him a lunch.

8:00 - arrive back at home to find the boys locked in the dog kennel, by their sister, "if they weren't acting like dogs, I wouldn't treat them like dogs."

And finally, after school when we had our family discussions about the day, upon Gavin finding out that his sister had done this act of imprisonment to her brothers, he pipes in "isn't that illegal". Well, look who just caught on. I wish I was still in my robe.

My favorite Steel Days - American Fork

Entry Category: Antique Vehicle Entry....with antique people....Cecil and Nina Hansen born and raised in American Fork, life time residents going on 80 plus years.....

Theme:....lifetime residents of American Fork, 80 years plus and still giving....

Information to be read by the announcer: Riding in a 1960 restored to original Dodge truck are lifetime residents of American Fork, Cecil and Nina Hansen. Cecil and Nina were both born and raised in American Fork by families who settled in the American Fork area more than a century ago. Nina Sykes was raised on Main Street, Cecil Hansen just a few blocks north. The main street home is still a residence and occupied by their son, James and his wife Penny and their children. They met during their school years. Both were in the American Fork band during High School. They married December 21, 1942, celebrating their 62 wedding anniversary this past year. Cecil Hansen served in the Air Force during World War II. He was a School Teacher, Principal and Alpine Assistant Superintendant here in American Fork. Nina danced at the University of Utah, she played and protected the children on the playground, raised her family and grandchildren with a style of her very own. They both have served in many church positions, Nina giving more than 60 years of service. As Veterans of War, Survivors of the Depression, Encyclopedias of History, and examples to all who know them, their lifetime emulates strength to family, and community that is honored by all who know and love them. We celebrate them as a part of American Forks heritage, more than "80" years of community strength. An "antique car" with "antique people".....PRICELESS!!!

Commentary - Positive Portion Control in a Super Sized World

In our super sized world the portions our kids are eating is almost a worse problem than the food choices themselves. Add that to the lack of movement by kids today and you certainly have a potential national crisis. The video game thumb is the strongest muscle in some youth; add that to the french fry jaw and you have the brawn of the future. How can we as a public promote better health and fitness? One group is not only taking a stand for better fit kids, but promoting kids to stand and walk into a better future.

There is a new trend starting in Elementary Schools around the state because of this group. Kids are not just having a fit about it; they are having a Royal Fit! The fit is for fitness. Royal Fit Club is a new campaign in selected Elementary Schools with the purpose of influencing kids, educators and parents to partner in helping youth to be more conscientious about their health. They promote an understanding that kids healthy future depends upon healthier habits today.
The fact is that our kids are in potential crisis, with serious health issues gripping the nation. Salt Lake City School District (SLCSD) has already implemented a Health and Wellness policy in schools K-12.

According to the facts printed in their policy, “The current generation of children will become the heaviest adults in US history and may be the first generation to have a life-span that is shorter than their parents or grandparents.” “In Utah, 25% of students K-8 are overweight or obese. 37,000 of Utah’s secondary school students are overweight or obese. This is enough to fill 410 classrooms” (2002 UDOH). This is heavy, and not just in weight.

We live in a society where everything is super sized, from our televisions to our take-out. We all want more. What about more life, more quality health, more years to enjoy, and more energy and health in our futures? The SLCSD Wellness Policy calls upon parents, students, teachers, and community members to support them in their efforts to provide a school environment that enhances learning and development of lifelong wellness practices. Their call to the community sparked students of the Salt Lake Community College to put together the Royal Fit Club campaign that will implement resources in the school to help initiate a healthier way of thinking for these kids and their families. Now kids are having a Royal Fit about being part of the Royal Fit Club. Its cool, its competitive, its entertaining, and they are learning more about health and fitness, particularly portion control. These kids are fighting back against a world that serves them adult sized portions. They are learning about how food works in their bodies, and taking a stand to walk into their futures healthier.

Not only does the campaign educate the kids but it calls on parents to better understand what is healthy to serve up for their kids. The program wants to see parents partner in parental control and guidance for their kids future. Now days you can parental control their television viewing, parental control the video games they play, why not parental control the portion size. What goes into these kids today is what comes out tomorrow. Our super sized world needs a super sized effort to stand for a healthier and fit future.

Commentary on Environmental Effects of Human Existence

Recently there have been widespread concerns from government to grassroots drawing attention to the conditions of the environment due to the new “nature” of human existence, reflecting a lack of respect for the land we use, the air we breathe and the water we drink. I am writing this letter because I strongly believe that you need to be thinking about some serious events which have an enormous effect on the outcome of your future. The history and past of our nation, while not in your control, continues to create a potentially dangerous environment for you and for those who will become of you. These dangers include the condition of your land, the air you breathe, and the water you drink.
You took your first breath of air on the day you were born. You didn’t have any say about the condition of that air. You trusted that is was good and nature told you to just do it. Breathing is natural; there is not much thinking involved. You were taken to a home, a piece of land, prepared for you to nurture you. You didn’t have to do anything to deserve it, you didn’t have to manage or care for it. It was just there for you. You were given drink at thirst. From a tiny being you needed water to thrive and it was given, without consideration of its origin. This is your past.
The present causes much concern. The way of life for all human beings is changing. You must educate yourself to understand the events that are unfolding; the conditions of the land, the air, the water and what is effecting and creating a potentially hazardous environment for all our future. It is imperative that you understand your relationship with these and the effects of your existence on the land, the air and water each day that you live.
I want you to better understand and acknowledge that the things you were given on the day you were born, air, clean land, water, will not be available to your future, to your child’s children if you do not come to a better understanding of the effects of your actions. There is literature representing the oral legend of Smoking Waters in which the people of the mountains are spoken of as living in peace, one with nature. It goes that “the forest and streams fed them so that they never slept hungry. They were content with their brothers and sisters; they were safe in the shelter of the mountains.” The old man of the mountains, Smoking Waters, had a vision. He saw that the people would become greedy and plagued with war. He told the people, “we are happy, we have what we need, we need nothing more.” Many Feathers argued with war brings power, saying, “we can make ourselves heros, war will bring power to our people.” The people laughed at the old man and mocked his wisdom and vision. With leaving nature and seeking power these people soon saw their children crying for food, wives alone, men and fathers gone; the people of the mountains were no longer happy. Smoking waters cried and grieved, his tears mingled with the mountain spring and became a hot spring. His tears and love live on and his legend is believed to be the hot springs of the mountain, soothing the sick and weary and healing the wounded. Smoking Waters gift is love and peace to all people. What legend do you leave your children if you do not acknowledge your choices effect on the availability of nature’s peace?
The impact of human choice on nature has commonly been known as “human nature”; our nature is to use the resources at hand. Argumentatively, the choices that humans make in using up resources are not natural. It is as though somehow the future will take care of itself. I believe this is not an option. Please start to think, educate yourself, and desire to make a better future for you and those who come of you. You can begin by discovering how much your existence affects the resources in your personal community, and how you can change.
Your future will not regret your present if you engage in the discussion that you can change the outcome by acknowledging the past, by better living in the present. Your human nature will be naturally followed if you will stand for a better way of living.

Toyota Trails Magazine Submission

above: the campground and the kids

below: Brian with Jeremy, Sam, Clarissa, Gavin, Stacie and Zoe

Slickrock looking over a forever drop to the canyon bottom

is not the best place to be standing with your kids. Scary.
Smile kids!
Scraping bottom. Lost some parts.
The famouse Utah Arch.

Todd J. Kaderabek, in an editorial introduction to the May/June 2006 issue of Toyota Trails argues with three common misperceptions Toyota Land Cruiser Association (TLCA) members engage in when it comes to participating in the various TLCA events. He suggests the misperceptions include: "...TLCA events are for hardcore wheelers, ...that your cruiser will sustain body damage, [and]...TLCA events are not family friendly" (4).





After a weekend in Moab with the Wasatch Cruisers with my husband Brian, our four children, and one niece, I completely agree these are misperceptions; TLCA events are certainly family friendly, you need not be a hardcore wheeler to enjoy and safely appreciate the sport, and with experience and trusted spotters you can easily protect your cruiser from sustaining unnecessary body damage.

Adventures in Fun Family Wheelin’

Betsy, the family “cruiser”, is the newest member of the our family. She is old, slightly handicapped, and was voted at a Wasatch Cruiser’s Fall Social to “be most likely to need a bus pass”. She is the color of rust, white wear she isn’t, with a couple of brown doors from a donor who now lives on through her. At times when we are driving her around, people wave, some may even recognize a part of her from earlier eras. Me, I am new to this whole club “wheeling” thing. I am learning the scene and getting to know what is behind the craziness of wanting to drive for hours where there are no roads, to an elevation where even breathing is a new experience, all the while knowing that if something happens, you could walk for days without seeing another person, much less be able to get a cup of “Joe”. Hard core wheelers we are not. With the dynamics of our family we just have to jump in head first and go along for the ride. I can’t really speak of the concern for body damage, I am quite certain that Betsy came out of Moab with a bit of dirt, but in her condition I don’t think damage is noticeable. I can however testify of the fun our family had while attending the TLCA event Cruise’ Moab 2006, and assure that by our experience this TLCA event was positively family friendly.



Troy DeMill mentioned in the Chapter Report for Wasatch Cruiser that 30-40 of the club would meet up in Moab for “our big spring run”. That we did. After Packing up old Betsy with the tent, food for the weekend, cooking grills, 4 kids, our 2 year old niece, clothing, ear plugs (for Brian to be able to concentrate on the drive while the family entourage asked “Are we there yet?” a billion times), blankets, pillows, and toys for a whole season, we hit the road, literally; the poor bumper could barely take the driveway, even with 32 inch wheels. As for extra parts, no room, hopefully if needed someone can spare something when we get there, or we would be hitching a ride home. We get three blocks before the first kid has to pee, and about two miles until the first knock down fight, “she is sitting on my side of the seat.” After about 10 minutes of freeway, the kids finally settle in for the typically four hour (6 for us) drive to Moab. We arrive in the dark, of course; it wouldn’t be an adventure if we didn’t have to cook hot dogs by the heat of the engine, while setting up the tent after the campground curfew.



The morning arrives to the sound of our daughter shrieking because her brother has “imagined” a lizard is crawling in her sleeping bag. They are off, finding the playground, chasing small helpless creatures, eating candy and donuts and drinking soda for a pre-breakfast snack. Brian and I crawl out of the tent, still feeling hungover from the sugar high drive the night before. TLCA has a dinner planned for the evening, and early to rise the next morning to meet the groups for the day’s adventurous challenge so today we explore on our own. We take the kids into Arches National Park, well worth the visit. Then we find an old rock and trinket shop, the kids spend hours looking at the dinosaur fossils. Do touch!; the sign says….”CRASH”, now we know where our kids are. The locals who work there give us some encouraging tips to search for dinosaur tracks (outside of their store) and we are off, with all five kids and all their fingers still in tact. Moab has some great little trails, marked for wheelers. We find some really cool dinosaur footprints, and a treasure box from a GPS club. After reading the journal and checking out the treasure, we are off to the dinner event. The dinner was held at Bar M Chuckwagon and the kids spent the whole time playing with new friends, checking out the horseshoes, and looking at all the really cool trucks. Our Jeremy, who is five, wants to have a parking lot of cars and trucks (just like daddy) and is happy to just walk around looking at all the cruisers, “can I have one like this”, “and this one”, and “this one”. Our eleven year old boy just wants to know if he can ride with someone else tomorrow, heaven forbid he be seen in old Betsy. The kids are covered now in two days of dirt and we are off to bed looking forward
to tomorrow’s adventure on Poison Spider Mesa.


Charles A. Wells Guide to Moab, UT Backroads & 4-Wheel Drive Trails lists “EAST Family Fun Runs,…MODERATE Sport Utility Adventures,…[and] DIFFICULT Hard-Core Challenges”. It fails to mention that the “EASY Family Runs” when five children are along for the ride become “Hard-Core Challenges”. To the valuable information in the book I would add an emergency list for families….diapers for the baby, extra ear plugs, leashes, diapers for the 11 year old, and a bit of something to take the edge off. Wells certainly is a veteran of wheeling but warns that “…by its very nature [is] potentially dangerous and could result in property damage…”, that as a driver and participant you must “acknowledge these risks and assume…responsibility…as to whether a trail is safe to drive…, whether your vehicle is capable…and [practice] good judgment and preparation…”. As a mother I agree that certainly the most critical factor is using good judgment throughout the adventure. With that in mind we join the group headed to the Poison Spider Mesa, southwest of Moab off Highway 279.


Wells book describes Poison Spider Mesa as “Difficult. A classic hard-core trail with many challenging obstacles, including tight switchbacks, high irregular ledges, steep slickrock climbs, and several tippy spots” (107). Let me take you on a ride with details from our party of seven; the true challenge in overcoming the chaos inside the cruiser.


We are all smiles as we start out, over rocks, bumps, turns and bruises…the Waterfall is the first obstacle that creates a minute of concern for me. I decide this is a good opportunity for me to get out and take pictures. Pictures have no ability to determine the sacrifice a vehicle is making to overcome the massive rocks and irregular ledges. Tippy spots, the book describes, and the “wedgy” your vehicle experiences is certainly exactly as described; we make our way along the trail; bringing new meaning to the stereotypical wedgy appreciated by all who have experienced one. My husband recognizes my fear and makes me stay in the car for the next obstacles. I love it! Who knew that you could experience such a rush, just taking it head on!! At one point I asked Brian if he knew how crazy this was. What were we thinking? But as we got further in the mountain, the views took my breath away. I bought into it, and sold myself on this family fun adventure. I looked back at the kids, calmed by the sheer emotion of the experience. We were all feeling it. Zoe, my 2 year old niece, said “Scary, Brian”: her experience hanging forward, harnessed into her carseat, as we made our way down the steep slickrock was seriously a new feeling for her. She still refers to our Moab trip as “scary”, but also answers she wants to go with Uncle Brian again in the famously named “monster truck”: Betsy. We really enjoyed the friendship as we stopped with the group as points such as the overlook. Our tri colored Betsy fulfilled three categories for one of the teenage boys looking for trucks of all colors. A monument picture taken of the 4-wheelers along for this trip at the overlook will always bring back a flood of fun memories for me. I could certainly understand Charles Wells description of “tippy” as we continued on the “loop”. His book also gives some background information for naming this trail Poison Spider, as “a girl named Mary Jane Francis was buried [near the High Speed Mesa, her grave marked] …in 1896…allegedly…from a poison spider [bite]” (109). The kids favorite part of the ride was the “whoop-ti-dos” near the High Speed Mesa, “again, daddy” they pleaded. Some bicyclists came across our path, I was impressed that anyone could, or would, take on such a challenge physically. One lady seemed just as puzzled at our challenge: one, two three four, five, six, seven; seven in that one, and five kids!, why “would” anyone do that to themselves …she commented as we passed. [It was a good question: I still ask myself sometimes.] All in all the adventure was incredibly fun, and we safely made it back to camp, with 300 beautiful pictures depicting every moment of our days fun and frantic, in one piece, and ready to plan next years involvement in the TLCA Cruise Moab.


This wheeling adventure, and reflecting on a few additional rookie family friendly exposures, has created an addiction in me. Thank goodness there is already a website for “rockaholics”. The website shows the potential for many awesome back country off-road adventures as experienced by average wheelers like us. I have become very interested in the behind the scene, the history of, and the future of wheeling for my family. In my searching I have come to find that many of the 4 wheel drive clubs and associations have similar goals of creating a safe, fun, family friendly atmosphere for wheelers, whether you are a veteran to the sport or a rookie. Arizona Dust Devils promotes as two of their top objectives “4-wheeling as a family activity, [and] promote [ing] responsible use of 4-wheel drive vehicles”. Many clubs are also very community oriented and willing to take on environmental tasks of cleaning up and rehabilitating the beauty of backcountry. “Wasatch Cruisers is the Utah Chapter of the Toyota Land Cruiser Association TLCA” their homepage promotes, “Wasatch Cruisers is a family oriented club, committed to a responsible off-road activity and to preserving our public lands.” I am proud that my family is part of Wasatch Cruisers and look forward to more family fun adventures in the near future. See ya all in Moab 2007

on-line journaling

Just a quick note as I begin this course at Salt Lake Community College. I read the little intro to the course in the class schedule book and thought that it would be interesting to take and learn more about myself, potentially to work on some of the things that need improvement in my life and to better understand why I am who I am and in the long run become the person I want to be, or at least be headed in that direction. (That was a really long sentence, which I won’t correct because this is my journal and this is the process of my thinking). Today I got my kids all off to their first day of class on time and I was only 5 minutes late to my first Math class. Not bad, pretty positive when you consider what I have to work with.

War: Not a necessary evil

“War: not a necessary evil.”
by Stacie Lawrence


David Powell served two tours of duty in Vietnam from 1965 to 1967, one of the most senseless and dehumanizing wars in history. Americans don’t speak much of it because we pretend it didn’t happen. He states, “The following events come to my conscious memory uninvited. I not only remember them vividly, I re-experience them with all my senses:”
Froze with fright, standing up, the first time I was under fire
Watched two marines try to break open the skull of a dead Viet Cong with a large rock
Observed a marine intentionally shoot a girl four or six years of age
Watched the girl’s grandfather carry her into our line of fire, sobbing.(Powell)

Powell continues with horrific descriptions of his experiences, finding brain matter on a fence, seeing marines laugh as Viet Congs bleed to death, being abandoned, being shot, he was nearly trapped, and he was robbed. David watched a man shoot himself in the foot to get evacuated and heard the same man cry in his sleep when he was returned to the company. All this equates to vile and inhumane memories of one man’s experiences of one war as recounted in his selection titled Vietnam: What I remember.

What happens to people in war changes their whole being. They are affected by their experiences in a way that influences their sense of existence. These experiences become a part of their every day, every moment, every breath, for they have impacted them in a way that every moment, every thought, every feeling is shaped by what they saw, heard, did, feared, or prayed about. War is immoral, it is ultimately ineffective, and it is indecent. War is not a necessary evil.

NPR’s Morning Edition “Treatment of War Prisoners: When Does Law Apply?” posed the question of morality in war: what of their behavior is ethical, what crosses the line, and who makes those decisions? One caller suggested that many of the wars we have engaged in during this past century have really been found to be unnecessary. The caller indicated that the information we now have shows that our intentions in fighting were wrong. Look at Vietnam, a war that our society sees as a black mark on our history and yet we continue to engage in immoral acts of violence with no solid foundation, reason or purpose. Do we seriously consider the effects of wars on our society, families, and each individual? I think we do not. We engage ourselves more in the General Patton-like glamour and glory of fighting with honor, fighting for freedoms. Is there really freedom in seeing your friend’s face blown off, or sending home bodies of young fathers and sons, wives and daughters? Is there honor in knowing that you don’t have a choice whether or not to kill a child, or someone’s sister or father?

My grandfather, Cecil Hansen, served with a sense of honor in the United States Army Air Forces, stationed in Assam, India, with the Air Transport Command flying equipment and supplies, including bombs and gasoline to China. During his assignments he had many frightening experiences, flew cargo in hellish storms, had an engine catch on fire, and survived to be brought safely “home”. In his memoir A Hump Flight from Sookerating Assam, India to China,

Most hump pilots [pilots who transported cargo over the “hump” between India and China] flew their whole tour of Foreign Service duty without ever having walked down the narrow streets of a Chinese city. The whole operation there was geared to put supplies over the Hump which couldn’t be done with airplanes sitting on the ground in China. As soon as my ship was uploaded and we had eaten a bite, we were on our way “home.” Only once did I stay overnight and I would have preferred not to have had the experience. It was sad to see what the people now had to live in—bombed out buildings and streets littered with debris. (Hansen)
Back in India, he said, “I would try to get some sleep or perhaps go to work in the Navigation Briefing Office knowing that in a day or two, I would do it all over again. In a way it was hard work and Sundays and holidays were not days off. But there was a job to be done and I was there helping to get it done so that the World could be at peace once more.” He wrote of another flight in the chapter “Storm from Hell” when the fuel gages reached the empty mark, “I continued my silent prayer, until I felt the wheels touch down on the runway. Thirty-five air craft were ‘lost’ during that storm, and as I taxied to the parking area I was grateful to be home.” For a time, India was his “home”.

Left back in the United States my grandmother, Nina, a young bride had sent her husband, her future off, never really knowing where he was. She would be following his assignments but because the military was not as supportive as they are today of their soldiers families she would wander starving for a bite to eat, lonely, searching door to door to find a place to sleep. While working in a prisoner camp in New Mexico she was burned by a war prisoner with a cigar who thought she was a Jew. She was once told that her husband’s plane was missing and worried for hours just to be told that they were only seeing how she would handle the stress. She was threatened, and felt lost with her husband oversees and no money to call home, to eat, or place to sleep; only waiting. She would be awakened screaming from visions of planes crashing, thinking her life; her love, would never come “home.” Similar to my grandfather’s aircraft being out of fuel, spirits were empty as well. My grandmother wrote of a time, “My mind was ready to blow, nerves to burst, and my spirit was dead. I went to bed captured by an evil and frightening feeling of what this kind of world was,” a world of war. We don’t stop often enough to consider the ramifications to our people of engaging in acts of war? Our wars have damaged more than our soldiers, deficited more than our nation’s pockets.

Charles Frazier describes how men respond in returning from the carnage of war in his book Cold Mountain. Inman’s describes the deficit of his soul as “a spiritual journey of coming to terms with what he has done, with the innocence he has lost.” He further states “War took a man out of that circle of regular life and made a season of its own not much dependent on anything else.” Fire in the Hole by Dennis Tenety remembers, “I've seen bodies ripped to pieces by bullets, blown into millions of scraps by bombs, and pierced by booby traps. I’ve smelled the stench of bodies burned. I’ve heard the air sound like it was boiling from rounds flying back and forth. I’ve lived an insanity others should never live..." This is the carnage, the evil of war. The American Legion of Military Veterans now describes the effects of war as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. During the Civil War it was “Soldier’s Heart,” World War I renamed it “Shell Shock,” World War II called it “Battle Fatigue.” The Korean War veterans were diagnosed with “War Neurosis,” and “Vietnam Syndrome” was the label for that generation; these effects certainly worth fighting for.

E. Housman’s poetry expresses the dishonor in not fighting, the idea of a coward’s funeral. The rhetoric used by Patten to convince soldiers to fight valiantly or be dishonored as Henry V indicated is appalling to me. Patriotic rhetoric used makes war seem inviting on film, we hear the words of courage and they build us up to want to fight, to have our share of the coveted honor, but if you had to watch your own child leave to fight a war that will someday be reflected upon as senseless would you send them to “Stand and fight and see your slain, And take the bullet in your brain” (Housman). Hell no! Do not suffer the idea of one man’s life to guard another. Use war money to build more prisons, cut off people’s arms for crimes, and hang people, but sending loved ones to die because we have allowed terror to become what it is is like a pissing match. Although Siegfried Sassoon [a man who served valiantly in World War I] did not protest the conduct of war, he did protest the political error and insincerity for which men and women are being sacrificed in his Statement Against the Continuation of the War. He said “I have seen and endured the sufferings of the troops, and I can no longer be a party to prolong these sufferings for ends which I believe to be evil and unjust.” As my grandfather said, “Soldiers fight wars, fight with honor, even wars that are not for the right reasons. Those in the military are there to do a job. They volunteer to go and serve, without questioning, so they can come home.” Soldiers fight for honor, for country. My grandmother said, “I lived through it, now I live with it.”

There is no “off the clock” time for soldiers or their families. What they have experienced becomes their full time job. The memories uninvited, the effects of their experiences are eternal. My grandparent’s experiences of war are part of every visit. Their innocence lost; they are removed from the very being they once were. They continue to be captured by evil and frightening feelings of what kind of world this is, a world with unnecessary wars. Charles Frazier says it best bidding farewell to fellow injured soldiers, “We’ll meet again in a better world.”