Saturday, January 31, 2009

One of the nice things about getting old is contemplating your navel. Not literally, of course. I am fully content not to lead the transitional hectic life of most families, though I do still fully, and always have enjoyed living my children’s lives vicariously!

Jewel is totally excited to be in the house on 1/28 after relying on her future brother-in-law’s good graces since 12/7! It so happened when Seth and Johnny were emptying the storage unit, the power went out on the whole neighborhood block so they had to unload in the dark. Just as they were by truck-light squeezing the last of it into the garage, the power came on, prompting Johnny to say with an understated tone, “I could feel a little angry right now.” They took Hayden over a few nights prior and in the tour when they came to the kitchen, Johnny said, “And this is where you mother will be cooking dinner every night.” With all the kitchen gear buried in storage, it’s been basically fast food for the last seven+ weeks, as the stay with Seth was initially expected to last 10 days. Grant should blog about his close escape from a personal injury lawsuit…which he probably won’t, but I peaked your interest, didn’t I! It has been wonderful witnessing Ruth’s chronicling of their Houston lives, as it shortens the distance considerably.

But back to the musings of the aged. Morning baths in the winter are a tad on the cool side in my house. Replacing the water heater is next on the list after kitchen and TV-room flooring. So sitting in the tub collecting body heat under a towel, it makes me think of pioneer day Indians cross-legged with their blanket wraps (also musing, around the fire), and how poorly I would fair in that circumstance. Which made me think of the logic in spending winters in the valleys (if not St. George!), where a few subsequent conflicts with settlers arose. Which made me wonder just what is the difference in temperature, mountains vs. valleys around here. Which caused me to get out of the tub and look on the internet, where I found the minimum temp overnight at a certain weather station in the mountains was 14.7 whereas in my very neighborhood it was 19.3. Not as big a difference as I figured. But: wind chill made a bigger difference that I would definitely notice, as I would notice the big diff in humidity, 88.2% vs. 59.8. The 10 a.m. temp wasn’t so bad, 23.3 vs. 26.5., which surprised me. Wind 5.5 mph in the mountains, zero in the valley.  Humm, looking for just the right Timpanogos picture to plug in here, I'm thinking this little speculation project is lacking in that ...
                                                 I'm sure an inversion changes everything!

Regardless, we all have our relative thanksgivings – Jewel getting settled, Grant dodging bankruptcy, me “comfortably” shivering.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

This is NOT a postcard picture!
It's my lame attempt to record the size of the currently falling snowflakes.
You'll just have to take my word for it - they are super-sized!

Saturday, January 24, 2009

When I started blogging I promised myself it would be once a month. Ha! There is an outrĂ© addictiveness, perhaps mostly because it’s a literal invitation to expose your self-centeredness, and which is pretty apparent in mine. Not all of you, mind you. You decide for yourself on your own. I think my favorite part is listening to everyone’s music and having instant access to grandchild pictures. And it has been wonderful to peek into the lives of relatives I get to see so infrequently and this has made them become much more “real” to me.

I have no desire whatsoever to “join” MySpace, as you can’t avoid the eyeball shock of so simple a thing as what people call or profile-picture themselves (and their so-called friends). And I would pitch to EVERY family to stand in the way of it for as long as possible! It’s just a plain fact that if you allow the exposure, you WILL be effected. I’ve alluded to this poem before, which my Dad would quote:

“Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As to be hated needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, we first endure, then pity, then embrace.” Alexander Pope (English Poet, 1688-1744)
Once I wanted to use this very poem in a R.S. lesson but the church-approved source guidelines excluded it. Then I stumbled upon it quoted by Monson so I got to use it after all. The “stumble” by the way was a very apparent spiritual gift, I must add. And speaks to the issue of preparing ahead, so you can have some interim spiritual opportunities.

As to facebook, people do seem to put a much better foot forward and behave themselves. Well, compared to MySpace, that is. I can’t say I’ve never seen anything inappropriate, but so far it’s been in the veiled catty indulgence category rather than in the monster vice realm. If it weren’t all so time-consuming, I’d be tempted. I spend entirely too much time on blogspot as it is. And other than moving snow on a rare occasional winter evening and bunches of yard work the rest of the year, that’s about all I “have” to do after work, so I don’t get how people manage who actually have “responsibilities”! Well, I can’t say I haven’t “joined,” having been first invited by an old friend I’d hear nothing from/of otherwise, who kept “poking” me last September, and a couple more along the way.

There was a recent news report as to some of the slimyness side of it all. A local child’s photo got anonymously Aryan-nationed and the family was so upset they hired a lawyer to find out who did it and were shocked it turned out it was within the immediate adult family circle. So let that give all of us pause and we all continue down this path of competing for the most friends and the longest blog list. For example, I wouldn’t recommend a facebook link to your blogspot. I’m sure all you more proficient participants could give us more/better advice, so the invite’s open. Obviously, if someone out there is innately devious, there’s no way to be perfectly protected sans bowing out to assuage one’s paranoia.

There is a good part to it all, of course, and the list is long. Just seeing Velvet’s bound family photo books is one pudding proof (not that hers began with blogging). It’s always good to develop your skills as to the ins and outs of the computer world no matter how involved you anticipate it might end up via your family or your employment. It’s a fun way to learn. Right now I have an elaborate Excel worksheet I’ve created to divvy up our cooks’ association profits for the upcoming annual convention registration based on each one’s involvement in earning those profits. Which is small potatoes --say potato pearls (as in instant) -- I’m sure, compared to --what was it?-- Ubuntu??!!

Reminds me (not Ubuntu, just this post in general) of when I had to go to a group therapy session at the State Hospital. (No, I wasn’t a patient, it was a college major assignment.) They were discussing whether or not they thought various patients had earned the right for a weekend pass home. Several were “approved,” but the last one continued at length, and finally she blurted out, “I PROMISE, I won’t even look at the genealogy!” I was astounded. And then it came out that she had such an addiction to it that the group thought it the only reason for the request and therefore unhealthy to indulge! And apparently contributed to her incarceration.

So I guess what it boils down to is this: might not be a bad idea to give consideration as to the ramifications of what we end up picking for our own poison.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow

There’s something nice about Friday nights, especially the one right after the monthly first week of stressful work deadlines. So I find myself in a bit of extra good humor. My version of it, that is. I had a conversation with Glenn Beck after work (which was amusing). He buys gold as “insurance” he claims, but the company he buys it from keeps it for him and supposedly down the road his kids might need it, say for food. I told him (but I could tell he wasn’t listening), if anyone needs gold for food and the gold isn’t on the premises, or say walking distance with your wheelbarrow, it’s the same as not having it at all. Somehow I doubt in those circumstances gold would be logically tradeable for edibles anyway, though there are certain forms of smart bartering. That’s why I have oatmeal (I tell him) and then laugh. (But I DO have a lot of oatmeal in metal cans, keep in mind should the occasion arise, assuming by the time you’re wanting to do some trading, you aren’t too uptight about expiration dates.)

There’s something about my garage that elicits loud singing. I think it’s the echo-y shower thing, and being glad to be home. I’d be embarrassed of course if someone were waiting for me in the back yard but then on the other hand that would not be a good thing either in and of itself! It might be precipitated, on Fridays anyway, from singing at work. My office coworker plays each of our picks of the year on Fridays, cranked up, which is because we’ve noticed often we’re the only ones left long before the official end of the day. Mine this school year is Spirit in the Sky. Bill’s is Little Willy Won’t Go Home. Colleen’s is Earl’s Gotta Die. Jenny’s has a semblance of decorum - I Can Only Imagine - so we usually play it first so as not to spoil it with the others. All of them are best appreciated tuned up.

Another fun thing these days is taking sinus pressure medication every day for a week and having normal blood pressure readings throughout, the first since pre-Christmas. So I’m optimistic having learned of another BP-lowering agent besides a daily diet of turkey! ;-)

I remember being annoyed by my mother’s sense of humor, which was so dumb. Not unlike my own these days. (Including the part about mostly not caring what anyone thinks about it.)

Had a fun conversation with Hayden yesterday, who doesn’t think I’m dumb yet, fortunately. Johnny had taught him how to ride his bike without training wheels at the ripe old age of 3-3/4. (His Dad will no doubt take pause at that fact should it be noticed/mentioned.) He was proud of himself, asked if I could come see it. Jewel in the background said I didn’t live in the same state. So very seriously he said, “Why don’t you live in the same state, GG?” I said, “I have no idea.” So then he said his usual closing comment about when was he coming to see me and I said, “Ask your Mom.”

Been wanting to take a picture of the hugeness of the snow pile built around my house, but the lighting was never right in the yard, so I took this one instead at my neighbor’s. Took some arthritis meds as a result, when the storms were back-to-back, but other than that, I LIKE dealing with snow. At home that is. It lets you know you're alive, in more ways than one, and makes me think back to the ancestors who lived in the dugout a few feet away and had lots bigger winter problems to maneuver than moving snow. The non-home versions of dealing with snow make you hope you’ll remain alive! I followed my boss to an SLC meeting this morning vicariously via commuterlink and empathized with the freeway parking lot she dealt with in Lehi as a result of 20 cars and two semis coming into inappropriate contact! It’s definitely good to be home.