Good Friends at "Best Friends."

Some of our very good friends from the temple are Betty and Truman Lynch. They live in Kanab, so on my day off school we decided to go for a visit. They were wonderfully hospitable and showed us all the local sights. One place they took us was called "Best Friends Animal Sanctuary." Some type of group bought a huge section of Kanab canyon and turned it into a posh animal shelter and cemetery. Betty went up once to adopt a puppy for her grandson but was not admitted because she didn't have an appointment. She was sent away with the proper forms to fill out and told to call and arrange for a time to be interviewed. The papers were as in-depth as adoption papers for a baby and even required that one of the employees come and inspect the prospective home. Needless to say, she went to the local animal shelter and picked up a dog. The cemetery was something to see. It was a huge, landscaped, wind-chime filled park complete with alcoves for urns to hold doggie's (or kitty's) dusty remains. Now, don't get me wrong - I happen to be a pet lover, as my kids can attest to, but by the looks of the organizer's home located in the distance this pet sanctuary is BIG business. It also is a very secretive enterprise and leads one to wonder if fido is a ruse for something much larger. Employees come from all over the world and never fraternize with the locals. Since the establishment of "Best Friends" a curiously all women development is building up just outside the city limits. Hummm. . .
All in all, we had a memorable time and I would encourage anyone to go out of their way to visit this lovely little Utah town.

This weekend was the annual St. George marathon and it was a memorable one. Friday night Barry Johnson, Garth Masterson, and Jerry (a friend of Barry's who has run - and won his division in most- 80 marathons) came over for a carb-loading dinner. We had a great time eating and watching the Louisiana/Utah game. David/Emily, and Jonathan/Gina got here about 9:30, had a bite to eat and we all headed to bed. Saturday was Kent's 20th St. George marathon and he was so pleased to have accomplished this goal. On our way there David found out, first hand, how nice (and forgiving) the St. George police are. The weather was a perfect fall day, with just a nip in the air. Kent looked fabulous as he crossed the finish line. Later, we all attended the Runner's dinner where they recognized the 10 , 20 , and 30 year runners. It was nice (a little underwhelming for such an accomplishment!) but the company was what made it wonderful. We went to Kristen's for a while to play Wii and David/Jonathan got hooked on the boxing. Emily, Gina, and I excelled at bowling (my humility is showing - you'd think I was a guy!). Kristen had a house full of company (24 while we were there and everyone was staying overnight except us) so we didn't stay too long. Dinner with the kids on Sunday and General Conference added icing to a scrumptious weekend. Congratulations Kent! You are one incredible man (and sexy too - just ask Gina!)

Reflections on my Math Test

How did my test go, you ask? Well, suffice it to say that I now have something in common with Edison. Unfortunately it is not in the intelligence department. Edison said that he never had a failure, just a multitude of opportunities to find a way it doesn't work. Well, I had the same success on my last math exam. Nearly half the answers were new revelations on how numbers shouldn't be combined. To put it simply - my light went out. How can I be so philosophical about the first test in my life that I have actually failed? Well, this is only the first test that was graded by a fellow human being that I have ever failed. I think there have been many instances where my heavenly professors are shaking their heads and wondering aloud -"do you think she will ever really get it?" Hopefully the Lord allows a lot of extra credit. Hmmm....do you think that is where the Atonement fits in?

The Nelson family recently gave me a gift certificate to Bear Mill - St. George's version of Build a Bear. We went there for Chelsea's birthday and had a great time. I had recently visited the Golden Compass site and found that my daemon is a fox, so naturally, that is what we built. Kristen named her Roxy the Foxy Coed and we put a little letterman's jacket on her. I bought the DSC pin and Dixie College socks at the bookstore and she now adorns my bookcase sitting next to her hiking bear counterpart. I haven't received the words of wisdom that a daemon is supposed to supply but she brings me a lot of joy. She reminds me of the fun part of this school experience, and as my stomach has a tendency to knot up Sunday nights in anticipation of the looming school week, I need that.

Sometimes Do You Think You Have To Do It All?

I think that this picture just about sums up my first couple of weeks back in school. I have been overwhelmed and ready to quit because the load was not only heavy, but incomprehensible as well (I have a college algebra class and I could swear it was being taught in a foreign language). Upon self-reflection, blended with a fast, I realized that I had left the One who really does put the sun in the sky, out of the equation. I am not here to do it all myself and this moment in my life is less than the blink of an eternal eye. I probably had similar panicky feelings as I began 7th grade, kindergarten, or even learned to walk. I read in Corinthians today that "So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase." My professors plant the seed, I water with study - but ultimately it is the Lord who gives me understanding.
I can sit here safely in my office this beautiful Sabbath evening, basking in the afterglow of a Spirit-filled day and wonder how I ever feared. The trick will be to retain these feelings as I face my Algebra exam on Tuesday, Grammar exam on Wednesday (tell me again what an adverb is?), and Geography exam on Thursday (how many degrees does earth tip on its axis from the elliptical plane?).
I will post a picture reflective of my success in the future. Meanwhile, I keep chanting my mantra - and this too shall pass.

The Stranger

A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on.

As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche. My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey. But the stranger. . . he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies.

If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to our first major league ball game.

He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn't seem to mind. Sometimes, mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.)

Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but the stranger never felt obligated to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home,... not from us, our friends or any visitors. Our longtime visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush.

My Dad didn't permit the liberal use of alcohol, but the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing.

I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked and NEVER asked to leave.

More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you could walk into my parents' den today, you would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures.

His name? We just call him "TV." He has a younger sister now. We call her "Computer".

Faster Than A Speeding Bullet

There is nothing more beautiful than Ivins on a cool summer morning. I am the first to admit that exercise consistency is not my strong suit, so Kent needed to document this event.