Friday, March 30, 2012

Preparation

I had to sit in for one of the teachers all week and listen to and grade student presentations. The class was Natural Disasters, 3 sections worth. The students projects were on some of the natural disasters that we've had in the U.S. in the last 100 years or so, like Galvaston Hurricane, Peshtigo Fires, Tri-State Tornados, and Hurricane Katrina.

I listened to stats of death, destruction and mayhem. I saw video clips and heard human interest stories. It was quite sobering.

Today we talked in class about what is the very most important kind of preparation that anyone can do to prepare for these kinds of events. Some students suggested education, and although this is very important we decided that it really wasn't number 1.

You can be as educated as is humanly possible about how to protect yourself against disaster. You can have supplies stored up, know the safest places to go, and how to best protect yourself.

But that is no guarantee that you won't die if a flood, volcano, hurricane or tornado hits. The best kind of protection ultimately is spiritual protection. If the worst happens and you don't make it through the disaster, if you are spiritually prepared to meet God, then everything will be okay.

"If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear." D&C 38:30

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Epitaphs

Other families probably don't do this, but the topic of conversation at our house is occasionally about cemeteries. This could be due to the fact that I spend a lot of time in them doing my hobby.

One particular conversation was about epitaphs. These are the little snippets that are insights into the life of the one interred. Little glimpses into what was important to them, what they were like, or what they were remembered for.

These can be humorous, like the one I read at the Rose Hill Cemetery that said,
"See, I Told You I Was Sick!",
or
"I'd Rather Be Fishing",

to solemn
"Here Lies A Good Man"

They are glimpses into what the deceased did for a living,
"A Woodman of the World"
"Teacher of All"

and to what kind of a person they were in life,
"Loved By All"
"Loving Mother, Wife, Grandmother"

Sometimes they are messages from the family to the departed,
"You Will Be Missed"
"I Love You More, ha ha, I Said It Last!"

One day I was talking with some of my kids about what I might want on my headstone after I pass. I considered something like, "I'd Rather Be Painting" or maybe, "At last I have time to Paint". We were being silly, and having a good time.

About this time Mike called me on the phone. I told him what we were doing and asked him what he wanted to have on his headstone.

Mike's big belief in life is to render service as much as is humanly possible. He is always looking for ways to help people out. When people thank him for the help he usually says,
"If I can't help you out during the week, then what's the use of going to church on Sunday?"

And so that's what he said he wants to have on his headstone.

We hung up the phone and I told the kids what dad said. We agreed that was way too long and were trying to figure out a way to shorten it. We came up with this,
"What's the Use Of Going to Church?"

Mike was not amused.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Ouch----Foot and Car

I took a little trip down to my podiatrist this morning.
The good news is my tendonitis is slowly starting to heal.
The bad news is that I have to wear the boot another 3 weeks and then go back down to be evaluated.

Then he gave me some MORE good news and bad news.
The good news was that he was going to do something to help it heal even faster.
The bad news was that it involved 2 painful shots.

The first shot was into the heel of my right foot. Let me just say..........
IT HURT!!!!!!
As he's pushing in the potent cortisone through the needle it felt kind of like someone was holding a hot curling iron to my bare flesh and then every second or two, while leaving the curling iron in place, stabbing that same spot with an exacto knife.
Then he said, "on the count of five it will all be over".
I thought, "FIVE!!!!!" I don't know if I can take it to the count of ONE.
I did jerk pretty good a couple of times.

When he finished he told me that was the worst one and then gave me a shot in the tendon on the side of my foot. Honestly, I didn't hardly even feel that one.

When I finished with the appointment I clomped out to the car and drove to work. It was just starting to snow. After yesterday's spring weather it was kind of depressing. It snowed all day. Hopefully tomorrow we'll be back to spring.

After work and class I went out to my car to go home. I wasn't feeling the best, my thumbs hurt a lot (arthritis) and my foot hurt (curling irons and exacto knives) and my hair was hanging in my face (wet snow), and I just wanted to do something to lift my spirits up. I'd been contemplating taking a bee-keeping class, (part of my being self-sufficient kick), and knew there was a class next Monday. So before I started my car to go home I pulled out the flyer and called the number to sign up for the class. This took about 10 minutes. After hanging up the phone I started my car and then looked behind me to back up. A car was sitting there looking like he was waiting for my parking spot. Parking on campus is notoriously bad and it's not uncommon for this to happen. I had no idea how long he'd been waiting there, and hurried a little more than I should have in backing out. Well, unbeknownst to me he was actually waiting for the car to back out that was directly behind me. We both backed out at the same time and, well, backed into each other! I pulled forward and got out to check out the damage, stepping my battered and booted foot right into a big puddle of water, soaking it thoroughly. The other driver also got out and we determined that no damage had been done to either car. Hallelujah!!!
Now I'm home and not real anxious to go out again.
But we'll see....... the Republican caucus is tonight.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Evening Song

Late at night,
when the house is quiet, and I'm just about to log off the computer and go to bed
I hear the strangest sound.
My refrigerator.
It sings to me.
Well, singing isn't the exact word....
it
plays music for me.
I know what you're all thinking.
You are thinking I can't control my hungers.
I know you.
But that's not the case.
My fridge plays a few musical notes.
like plucking harp strings.
I swear it's true.