This is just a newsy little update with no pictures included. Life is good and the weather here is incredible. I have about 7 more weeks of school this semester and then will have my Associates Degree. I am considering an Integrated Bachelors degree that will give me two majors - English and Fine Arts. It will take about 16 more classes to complete and I am shooting for April of 2010 to graduate, maybe sooner if I get really ambitious and maybe later if I want any kind of life outside of school. We will see what time brings.
Kent is healthy, happy, and excited about the future; the eternal optimist. He has a friend who bought a model home in a development outside of our Stake about 3 miles up the parkway from Ivins. He has begged us to rent it for less rent than we pay here with some utilities included. Bigger house, new, beautiful, less money - what is the problem, you say. The problem is that it doesn't feel right. We fasted this weekend and things happened to ratify the decision to stay here. It is interesting how much more dear your house becomes when you choose to stay instead of feeling that you have no other options. So, for the time being, here we are and that is better than ok.
We are heading to California and Florida in May. Haylee will be baptized on May 3rd (an already great day in our family) so we are going down and taking Grandma and Grandpa Wood with us. On our return we will watch Kristen and Tyler's children for a few days while Mom and Dad have an exciting and relaxing time cleaning out their cabin in Springville. We then head to Florida to spend some time with Cami, Aric, and Marley and see the sights of their beautiful state. It is a lot to fit in between Spring and Summer semester but we are very excited.
That is about it for now. This weekend we are headed north to help Scott and Angie move into their beautiful new home. A memorable time for them marred briefly by Scott's painful hospital stay. (Desperate measures to avoid moving a little furniture!!) They are certainly in our prayers.
Love to you all,
Mom
Monday, March 3, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
Color Country
My homework is done - actually homework is never done but I am done for the day - so I am blogging. After looking through my life and my pictures I came to the conclusion that Kent's week would be much more interesting to blog. You can only say so much about homework before inducing snoozes. Kent went hiking with a friend a couple of weeks ago and found some interesting formations and petroglyphs. Come and see us and he will take you there.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Giving credit where credit is due.
I apologize for not acknowledging where the title for my last blog came from. You would think, as a college student, I would be very aware of plagiarism. In all honesty I wasn't taking credit for Mr. Guest's work, I just thought it would be well enough known to render it public domain. He is one of my favorite down-to-earth folksy poets and I share with you his famous "It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home."
by Edgar Guest
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home,
A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam
Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind,
An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind.
It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be,
How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury;
I ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything.
Home ain't a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;
Afore it's home there's got t' be a heap o' livin' in it;
Within the walls there's got t' be some babies born, and then
Right there ye've got t' bring 'em up t' women good, an' men;
And gradjerly, as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn't part
With anything they ever used -- they've grown into yer heart:
The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore
Ye hoard; an' if ye could ye'd keep the thumb marks on the door.
Ye've got t' weep t' make it home, ye've got t' sit an' sigh
An' watch beside a loved one's bed, an' know that Death is nigh;
An' in the stillness o' the night t' see Death's angel come,
An' close the eyes o' her that smiled,
an' leave her sweet voice dumb.
Fer these are scenes that grip the heart,
an' when yer tears are dried,
Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an' sanctified;
An' tuggin' at ye always are the pleasant memories
O' her that was an' is no more -- ye can't escape from these.
Ye've got t' sing an' dance fer years, ye've got t' romp an' play,
An' learn t' love the things ye have by usin' 'em each day;
Even the roses 'round the porch must blossom year by year
Afore they 'come a part o' ye, suggestin' someone dear
Who used t' love 'em long ago, an' trained 'em jes' t' run
The way they do, so's they would get the early mornin' sun;
Ye've got t' love each brick an' stone from cellar up t' dome:
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.
by Edgar Guest
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home,
A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam
Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind,
An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind.
It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be,
How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury;
I ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything.
Home ain't a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;
Afore it's home there's got t' be a heap o' livin' in it;
Within the walls there's got t' be some babies born, and then
Right there ye've got t' bring 'em up t' women good, an' men;
And gradjerly, as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn't part
With anything they ever used -- they've grown into yer heart:
The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore
Ye hoard; an' if ye could ye'd keep the thumb marks on the door.
Ye've got t' weep t' make it home, ye've got t' sit an' sigh
An' watch beside a loved one's bed, an' know that Death is nigh;
An' in the stillness o' the night t' see Death's angel come,
An' close the eyes o' her that smiled,
an' leave her sweet voice dumb.
Fer these are scenes that grip the heart,
an' when yer tears are dried,
Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an' sanctified;
An' tuggin' at ye always are the pleasant memories
O' her that was an' is no more -- ye can't escape from these.
Ye've got t' sing an' dance fer years, ye've got t' romp an' play,
An' learn t' love the things ye have by usin' 'em each day;
Even the roses 'round the porch must blossom year by year
Afore they 'come a part o' ye, suggestin' someone dear
Who used t' love 'em long ago, an' trained 'em jes' t' run
The way they do, so's they would get the early mornin' sun;
Ye've got t' love each brick an' stone from cellar up t' dome:
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
It Takes a Heap of Livin' to Make a House a Home
Angie sent me a link for a photo gallery on their house. As I browsed through the pictures the memories of 14 years flooded back to me. We did a 'heap o' livin' in that house and most of the feelings I had today were ones of joy: a kitchen filled with happy, noisy family; a family room overflowing with friends; bedrooms (usually impassable) containing the people who are my dearest treasures on earth; a front door that opened often to reveal the loving faces of ward members; etc. etc. etc. I know that we shed a bucket of tears there also and that's as it should be. I think tears and smiles are the stuff of which hearts are made. Sandy and West Jordan were where my heart was born, broken, and re-born over and over again, and I can't thank you all enough for the experience.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
"Rilla" two.
I had to pass these along. I don't know how one person can have 10 (nearly 11) of the most beautiful, charming, intelligent, and lovable grandchildren on the planet. I must have done something right before I came here to be so blessed. By the way, who does the little imp in the middle remind you of? Hmmmm. . .
My finals went well and I can't tell you what a faith promoting experience my math class was. I came away with an A in that class and it was not through any brilliance on my part. I was carried through that one, like I am in all of my classes. It is incredible what can happen when we have the Lord on our side.
Merry Christmas to each and every one of you and know that you are thought of with love in St. George.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
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.
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