Best Friends

Carter had a rare meltdown on Tuesday afternoon when I tried to explain that it was too late that day for him to come home with me. I was torn between wanting to make his every wish come true, and knowing that the words "not today" are ok sometimes and can help build character. I told him that I would pick him up the next morning and we would spend the day together.

One reason Carter wanted to come over, hopefully not the only one, was that he loves to play mini-golf and we had started our own little tradition of playing mini-golf on nice spring mornings, just him and me, with no one else around.

So the first order of business on Wednesday was to drive over to Cascade, select the balls and clubs of our choice, and head onto the golf course.


Here's Tiger


We didn't keep score, but this boy is pretty good with a golf club. I know he had a par on at least one hole, and has seen a few hole-in-ones (holes-in-one?)in his short golfing career.

Being the beautiful day that it was, when we were done golfing, we went to Lynne's to spend a little while on the lawn swings with her. Carter decided he would photo-document this outing:

It was a beautiful, clear day.



The flowers were in full bloom.





The grass was green, and well cut, thanks to Phil a few days before.



Speaking of Phil, he was busy with "guy things", i.e. getting soaker hoses unwound and placed for the summer, putting the awnings on the swings, etc. Carter put down the camera to get in on the action:





Carter is a good helper. And Phil is a patient man.

When he wasn't helping, Carter took up the camera once again.





He brought his golf clubs along...



....hmmm. He seems to have misplaced the clubs. They were there somewhere.


I think all the girl talk got a little boring, and Phil went into the house. The camera became all important at this point. Here's life through the eyes of a 4 year old:










He was especially proud of this self portrait:





When we left Lynne's, Carter got into the car and exclaimed, "I had fun!"


The photos above are but a few of the many, many great pictures Carter took on Wednesday. The only photos he did not take in this blog are the ones in which he appears.

My favorite part of the day happened right after mini-golf. We were getting out of the car at the house, and Carter said, "Grandma, you are my very best friend." I took his little face in my hands, looked him in the eye and said, "Carter, you are my very best friend too." I wanted to soak up that moment and write it permanently on the tablet of my heart.

I turned and went ahead of him to unlock the back door. Behind me I heard this little voice, "Grandma, you have a big bum."

What Are They Good For?

As the straggler in a short line of hikers at Snow Canyon this weekend, I contemplated what grandmothers are for.



The answer: Grandmothers are good for nagging Grandfathers to hold on to the hand of the littlest hiker.



Grandmothers should not have to repeat this admonition 1432 times in a 40 minute hike. But Grandfathers have very short memories, and they forget at every turn that little people go where the bigger people go, especially when the "bigger people" are the older brother and sister whom the little person adores in every way.


But this Grandmother is very fortunate that she has a Granddaughter who is a Nurturer-in-Miniature, who always looks out for her little brother. Here Granddaugher is saying, "No, Brother. Stay down there!"





And he did.


Grandson definitely listens to Sister better than he listens to Grandmother.



Youngest Grandson says of Sister: "She's my friend. I love her."




Grandmother's nagging paid off....I'm just not sure who it was who listened...not lookin' like it was Grandfather.




Somewhere in the midst of all this Grandmother's angst and her reminding, I thought of Sacagawea with Lewis and Clark. I'm sure Heavenly Father must have planted her on that expedition to be sure these adventurous explorers neither got too close to the edge of anything they could fall off of, or overloaded their wooden canoes. Or got lost. We know they wouldn't have asked for directions.

The thought of that courageous woman caused me to gird up my loins and press forward. Someone had to keep reminding Grandfather about holding little hands and keeping littlest Grandson from the BIG rocks.

Grandpa's remedy:


And we all reached the end of the trail safely. Grandmothers are good for something on these hikes!

Now the rest of the story:

What are Grandfathers good for?

Grandfathers can learn important lessons. For instance, when Grandson (in the car* on the way home from St. George) tells Grandfather that he's going to throw up, Grandfather has learned that the response, "No you aren't. Close your eyes and think of the snow up in the mountains" will not stop the event from happening.

Grandfathers are good for cleaning up messes.

And Grandfathers are compassionate.

This Grandfather helped sickie Grandson to feel better about the incident by telling him a story about the time he threw up in his grandmother's bed and hid the evidence under the pillow.








*Remind me to tell you even more of the story.

Neither rain, nor snow....

...kept thousands of Utahns from the Tea Parties in our state. The sleeping giant no longer slumbers.

The noontime Salt Lake Tea Party had about twelve hundred people attending. Provo had more, though I'll wait for the news to suggest a number. There were also Tea Parties in Layton, St. George, Vernal, and a few other cities. Jason Chaffetz, Mark Shurtleff, Rob Bishop and Chris Herrod were the few political speakers, each limited to just three or four minutes each, and stayed on task regarding the economy and government intrusion and did not use the platform for campaigning. At the Provo Tea Party, organizer David Kirkham included citizen speakers, walking through the crowd asking people why they came. Their replies often drew applause and cheers.

Here's what the Deseret News had to say:


By Arthur Raymond

Deseret News

Published: Wednesday, April 15, 2009 7:36 p.m. MDT

Linda Nelson would do most anything for her children. On Wednesday, that included driving from Lindon to Salt Lake City and braving freezing temperatures and heavy snowfall to join a loud and large tax-day "tea party."

Nelson joined more than 1,200 other Utahns who called for tax relief and reduced federal spending because she is worried that decisions now being made by the federal government will unfairly burden her five children.

"As my kids come out of college, I can't imagine the taxes that they'll be responsible for," Nelson said. Government leaders "are not asking our generation to pay for this. They're going into debt that will take decades to pay off."

Nelson also was bothered by government involvement in private business, citing the forced resignation of General Motors CEO Rick Wagoner as a move that should "never be allowed to happen."

The sign she held over her head at the Wallace F. Bennett Federal Building — "Debt is the problem, More debt is not the solution" — was popular, eliciting honks and waves from passing cars.

Speeches by Utah Republican congressmen Jason Chaffetz and Rob Bishop and state Attorney General Mark Shurtleff were popular, too, as they roundly criticized the federal stimulus package, financial bailouts and the growing budget deficit as missteps by the Obama administration and members of Congress — sentiments greeted with loud cheers by a crowd Salt Lake City police estimated at 1,200 to 1,500.


More


Salt Lake Tea Party held at noon at the Federal Building.




















Provo Tea Party pictures










Click on this link to read what the Herald had to say about the Tea Parties.

The hours I spent at the Salt Lake City and Provo Tea Parties was time well spent. Since before the election I have been concerned about the direction our country has been heading, and the recent economic and policy moves by our current President and Congress have deepened that concern. Just as we have been counseled by our Prophets to live providently, and we do not run up massive debt to leave to our children, it is incomprehensible to me that the government has no qualms about conducting its business this way. It isn't a single administration or one party who is at fault, but rather the Federal Government in general. For example, not a single member of congress read the huge omnibus spending bill which they recently passed. Who among us would vote for something that would impact so many people without reading it?

If we follow the dots, we can't help seeing what is coming if the direction of government doesn't make a sharp turn very soon. Government spending is just the tip of the iceberg. It is a means to an end, the mechanism for completely transforming our country into something which will not come close to what was envisioned by our Founding Fathers and laid securely in place by our Constitution.

I have been sending emails to my elected officials for some time. Attending these Tea Parties was just the next logical step to helping my voice be heard. It was comforting to know that I'm not alone in my concern for our country. I was surrounded by a thousand people at each of these events who feels pretty much like I do, and I know there are thousands more in our neighborhoods. The theme of both of these Tea Parties was the need for each of us to be vigilant and to get actively involved in the political process.

Another Cat Story

Honestly, I think my cats understand English.

When I was leaving the house this evening, Oreo was at my feet, probably hoping I'd let him in. I glanced up and saw the two cat houses were occupied, and commiserated with him.

"What's wrong, Oreo? Are the houses taken?' He reluctantly started to walk thru the gate to the back yard where the rain was coming down pretty steadily.

I said to him, "Oreo, just go up there and wait -- somebody will leave eventually."

Do you know what that cat did? He hopped up on the fence, then onto the shed by the cat houses and waited.

Daisy talks, but Oreo listens.

TEA*, Anyone?

In a day and a half, in hundreds of big cities, small towns, and everywhere in between, coast to coast in the United States of America, civic-minded citizens are gathering in a show of unity possibly not seen in this country in my lifetime.

This second round of Tea Parties promises to be substantial despite the lack of interest from the MSM. In their arrogance, the liberal media are likely thinking if they don't acknowledge us, we will go away.

Not I. I am not going away. Rain or snow or sunshine, I will be there for the two Tea Parties I have already commited to on Wednesday, and to as many more as I can possibly attend in the future. We must continue to hold these peaceful demonstrations until our elected representatives listen to us. Until they understand that unless they do listen to us, it is unlikely they will be re-elected. Until they understand that the level of government spending is not only not acceptable, it is obscene, and will burden our children and our children's children and their children. Until they understand government has no business meddling in the private enterprise of its citizens. Until they remember and keep the Oath of Office to which they swore with God as their witness.

If you haven't already planned to attend a Tea Party, there is still time. Go to http://www.taxdayteaparty.com/ to find one in your area. If you have time, make a poster to take with you that expresses your feelings about what is happening in our government. If you don't have time to make a poster, go anyway. Mingle with like-minded citizens and see that you are not alone.


*taxed enough already

Our Easter Tradition

Kielbasa. That's our Easter tradition. In the old days, when we lived in Ohio near family, we spent Easter with Bob's family. Eileen always served the same: for breakfast, she cooked a huge pan of kielbasa, some hardboiled eggs, and served lamb-shaped, coconut-covered coffee cake from the neighborhood bakery, Menke's. (With much effort I tracked down a lamb shaped pan here a few years ago to duplicate this part of the tradition, but everyone said it looked like a cat and wouldn't eat it.)

When I say "neighborhood" bakery, I mean it literally was located just a few blocks from my mother-in-law's home on a residential street. This area was known amongst the early Polish settlers in Toledo as "Lagrinka" -- I don't know whether that name has a Polish translation, but I supposed it to be their version of Lagrange Street. Bob's people came from "Russia Poland" in the early 1900's and settled in that neighborhood amongst hundreds of other immigrants of similar background. Some of these first generation Americans learned very little English, and wrapped themselves in the culture transplanted from their homeland into this new place. Menke's was not the only neighborhood business. Directly across the street from 3 West Park where the Wojnarowski's (Bob's family: we've changed our name, but that's another story for another day) lived was a neighborhood market or corner store. There was no parking lot, as their customers all lived within walking distance. Neighborhood bars were also very common.

The other neighborhood markets of importance were Mary's, and later Stanley's, several blocks away, across Lagrange Street. These little stores were the keepers of the secret recipes for the very best kielbasa ever to be made. Mary's went out of business possibly in the 1980's or early 90's, but Stanley's is still going strong. Especially at Easter and other holidays. Stanley may take orders, but during Holy Week the place is packed with people at the meat counter in the back of the store taking numbers and standing in line for their turn, sometimes for quite a while, to get the most important ingredient for their traditional Easter feast. I can't even imagine how much kielbasa Stanley and his people must make that week, but it is all fresh, not frozen or smoked, and it is purchased in large quantities by most of the customers.

Kielbasa. What we find in stores here labeled as kielbasa is not the real thing. It doesn't look like kielbasa, doesn't smell like kielbasa, and it doesn't even come close to tasting like kielbasa. And I'm sure it's not made by Polish people, which is the most important ingredient in the secret recipe. I'm sure that scrawled in pencil on that yellowed paper somewhere it says, "must be made by Polish hands".

Passing down traditions, especially dietary traditions, is not easy when you live in an entirely different cultural area than you grew up in. Back in the "old days" the early Polish immigrants must have brought their recipes with them from the old country, bought the necessary ingredients from nearby farms or their little neighborhood markets, and stuffed their own sausage. When we lived in San Francisco, I tried that. It didn't work. For one thing, Mary wouldn't give me her recipe. For another, stuffing sausage is not as easy as it sounds. Some years that we have traveled to Ohio in the summer or fall, we have made the pilgrimage to Stanley's in all reverence, and stocked up on our year's supply of kielbasa. But the truth is, it just isn't the same after it's been frozen for 6 months.

So, last year I called Stanley's and asked if they ship kielbasa. No. Unfortunately, shipping perishables is more than they wanted to deal with. So I called anyone I could find on the internet in the Hamtramack, Michigan, area that might ship kielbasa. Hamtramack is between Toledo and Detroit and was known for its very high Polish population -- 90% in 1970, but down to 22% in 2000. I thought surely someone there would ship kielbasa to Utah. Well, yes, if I wanted to pay something like $35 shipping, not including the cost of the sausage. I was desperate, but not quite that desperate yet.

to be continued...

Black Jack

He just showed up one day last fall, and stayed. He was an adolescent-aged (maybe 4 or 5 months old) cat that seemed to enjoy hanging out with Daisy and Oreo, the typically disinterested resident felines. All black, except for a small white spot on his chest, he was clearly feral -- ran each time he saw us. Kennedy is always interested in our cats, and when she learned about this one, and saw his picture, she named him Black Jack. Because of our very favorite cat that was named Jack, I cannot call this little guy by the single name. He's Blackie or Black Jack to me. Or Baby. I don't call my cats "Kitty". They seem to resent it.

As the weather grew cooler the draw of the tinkling sound of dry catfood tumbling into the metal bowl on the carport became more alluring than his fear of humans. Some days Blackie watched from a distance while the other cats ate. Other days, he approached behind the other cats, eventually taking his turn. It wouldn't be hard to tame this cat. He didn't slink, and he seemed to be more timid than frightened. He appeared friendly. I liked him. I knew that someday he would like me too.



One day when I went to the carport to feed our cats, I poured the food into the bowl which I placed an arm's length from where I sat on the cement step by our back door. Oreo came running. Black Jack, close behind, peered thru the hole in the gate. He sized me up and decided to wait me out. It was cold out, and I didn't have a jacket on. He won. That time. I went inside, but knew we would play this game regularly, and eventually I would win.



I didn't rush. Trust is a huge part of friendship, and I knew that each time he saw me that I didn't press him, he would become more comfortable with me. One day he was so hungry -- or so impatient -- that he forgot himself and ran to the bowl with Oreo and began eating while I stood not far away. He quickly retreated when I took a step to go inside. This same scenario played out several times over a period of days or weeks, not daily, but whenever he was nearby when I refilled the bowl. I coaxed him, I talked to him, I assured him that I was his friend.

Then one day, it happened. He came to the bowl to eat while I was sitting within reach. I talked to Oreo and petted him. Then I reached out and touched this timid cat on his head while he ate. He didn't flinch or pull back. Gaining courage, I scratched him behind his ears. Oh my, he liked that. He stopped eating and soaked up all the affection I was pouring onto him. For a minute or so, it was as if we had been lifetime buddies. I cautiously stroked his back and ran my hand up his tail. No complaints. Eventually, I moved to get up. He quickly scampered a few steps away and sat and watched me go into the house.

Through the winter, Black Jack made a home in one of the cat cubes we put on our shed for Daisy and Oreo. I bought a third cube, and then learned that they seemed to prefer playing their own version of musical cat houses. Three was one too many. I never knew who would be in the cubes -- sometimes Daisy and Oreo, sometimes Oreo and Blackie, and sometimes Blackie and Daisy. The one who was left out would find another place to hang out -- either under the pine tree, or across the back fence in the Tenney's yard -- until he could sneak back in to a cube while another cat was out for a stretch.

Spring is here and the cubes are empty now more than they are inhabited. Blackie comes running with the other cats when I go outside, but he still keeps a comfortable distance until he remembers I'm his friend. He lets me pet him often and is genuinely happy about the affection.

So now Black Jack is part of the clan. But please note: he is not our cat. He just hangs out here with his buddies.

Neighborhood History

I wonder how much the advertisers want for Tiffani. Thirteen year olds can be quite charming, much fun, and they have a natural propensity for keeping adults on their toes. I think they would be quite sorry to lose her. Do you think Tiffani was the center of attention on her birthday as a result of this offer?

This is one of the more clever announcements that has appeared on the changeable display sign at Timpview Car Wash at the main intersection of our Edgemont neighborhood. Almost every day since we moved here eight years ago this sign has greeted us with the announcement of a birthday, a missionary departure or return, wedding or wedding anniversary or new baby, or other messages of interest to folks in the area.

If the owners of the car wash who put up these notices have kept a record of them we would have an interesting history of our little neighborhood.

He did it!

The phone didn't ring by 3:00, and I knew Brody was out of school at 2:30. I tried to call him, but there was no answer. I tried Gayle's cell phone, no answer. The suspense was killing me. Just a few moments later, the phone rang.

"Grandma, I missed it by one word."

Grandma groans. "Oh, Brody, I'm so sorry."

"Just kiddin'. I did it." I could see his impish grin.

Relief! We had spent the past two days, and an hour before school this morning working on the last part of this project.

I'm just so doggone proud of my grandson, I could pop a button.

Today in school, Brody recited the Gettysburg Address and an abbreviated portion of the Declaration of Independence as the final two items to pass off to earn The Great American Challenge from his teacher. Today was the last opportunity he would have. It was do or die.

Before the school year even began last summer, Brody's teacher visited him and each of the rest of her students to get to know them and to present them with the first item of this challenge: before the first day of school, she expected them to memorize all 50 states and their capitals, correctly spelled, in alphabetical order, and be able to locate them on a map. On our road trip to Michigan, we drilled and drilled, and by the time we got home a few weeks later, he was well on the way to knowing them.

The first week of school, his teacher presented the class with the rest of the Challenge. They would have until April 15 to memorize the additional six items and recite to the class:

1) Star Spangled Banner
2) Preamble to the Constitution
3) all 44 Presidents, in order
4) Pledge of Allegiance (written, with 100% spelling and punctuation)
5) Gettysburg Address (up to 8 assists)
6) An abbreviated version of the Declaration of Independence (up to 8 assists)

Brody mentioned to me this morning that Ms. Louw had told the class that only two or three students each year meet the challenge. He only knew of one other classmate that was close, a boy who had already tried twice to pass off the presidents as his last challenge, and today would be his third and last attempt. (Yes, he finally did it too!)

Brody had passed off all but these last two items, and then last week realized with spring break, he would have to memorize and recite them both today, since Monday was the only day their class took time for this project. Between a heavy homework load, and a demanding soccer schedule, Saturday was the first opportunity he had to buckle down to study them. I offered to help. He gratefully accepted. He spent hours reading, reciting, re-reading, and writing. I bribed him with chocolate chip cookies that I promised would nourish his overworked brain. We laughed together. He teased me. I told him more than he wanted to know about the Gettysburg Address and the Declaration. He listened patiently with glassy eyes while other things were probably rolling around in his mind. But he listened. And he worked so hard.

And today, he did it.

Congratulations, Brody! You're my Great American Grandson.

I'm doing it for them

I'm doing it for myself too, but ultimately it's our children and grandchildren who will bear the burden that our federal government is strapping onto our backs. Not just the financial burden, but even more importantly, the smothering weight of an oppressive, intrusive government.

I'm not an activist. I could have been. The 60's was the decade of my youth. I watched the world go crazy all around me then -- civil rights demonstrations, war protesters, Kent State, and more -- and had no interest in participating. Live and let live was my philosophy.

But here I am a few years later, ok, many years later, and enough is enough. On March 6, I threw my home made sign into the back of my car and drove to Salt Lake City to take part in a Tea Party (see blog entry below for that date). You know, it really felt right. It was a peaceful gathering, not an angry mob. Well, yes, those who took part are angry, as am I, but one can state his or her opinions in a respectful way.

So on April 15, I'll be ready with a new sign, and will participate in two Tea Parties:

City: Salt Lake City
When: April 15, 12:00 pm - 3:00 pm
Where: Federal Building Plaza, 125 South State Street
Contact: EMAIL
Phone: Phone: 801-814-8963 (Adam)

AND

City: Provo
When: April 15, 5:00 pm - 7:00 pm
Where: Old Utah County Court House, University and Center Streets

There's another in SL that I cannot attend:


City: Salt Lake City
When: April 15, 5:00 pm - 7:00 pm
Where: US Post Office Salt Lake City, 1795 W 2100 S
Contact: EMAIL
Phone: 801.377.8224 (David)


To find a Tea Party in your area, check this link:

Tax Day Tea Parties

I realize that meeting with a group of like minded people and carrying signs displaying my opinion of the disgraceful lack of integrity of our government is only a very small part of what I can and must do.

As I type this, my 11 year old grandson called to ask me about the judicial branch of government because he had misplaced his pocket Constitution. I've been helping him to earn his All American Challenge award at school, memorizing states and their capitals, the presidents in order, the Pledge of Allegiance, The Star Spangled Banner, the Preamble to the Constitution, the Gettysburg Address and an abbreviated version of the Declaration of Independence. Fortunately we live in the most conservative county of the most conservative state in the union, and we are blessed with schools that have not been quite as contaminated with liberal indoctrination as those in other states by the NEA and their state counterparts (please don't let the word get out!) My grandson's teacher places great emphasis on American history, and for that I am most grateful. Last summer when this grandson traveled with my husband and me on vacation, we talked often about the then-upcoming presidential election and the candidates and issues. He knows of my love for our country and as much as is possible for an 11 year old, he knows of the importance of protecting and defending our Constitution. Teaching our children and grandchildren about the origins of our country and helping them to understand their role in maintaining our freedom is probably our most important duty as citzens.

On April 15, I'm participating in two Tea Parties. For my grandchildren. So they will know that we all have a voice in our government, if we choose to express it. And they will know that I am doing my best to protect the blessings of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for them.