Cowboy Bob

And the winner is.....

2010-12-13T06:26:00.000-08:00

The Artist's Magazine 2010 Student Competition

1st Place, Landscape/Interior

This is the write up in the magazine:

A simple watercolor landscape painted while entertaining his grandkids was the start of Robert L. Nelson's art journey. To his surprise, his daughter framed and hung the piece on the wall. After that, he began painting lessons, only to suffer a heart attack a few months later. "Feeling very mortal", this 67 year old teacher of hearing impaired children now takes lessons and workshops to learn everything he can.

The impetus for the painting, Imperial Point, Grand Canyon was a rare scene he and his wife, Judy, witnessed--the Grand Canyon from the north to the south rim during a soft rain--which Judy captured with her camera. Nelson wanted to render both the atmospheric perspective and the foreground detail. " The biggest surprise in painting the scene was the resulting drama in the clouds," he says, "and I'm pleased with the effect of the fog over vegetation and land forms." Nelson describes his quest to keep improving. "There's so much more to painting than the mechanic of putting pigment on canvas."

Here is the link to the progression of the painting on my art blog:

I do have a few of the limited edition giclee' prints available. Contact me for prices.

The Metaphor of the Grazing Horse, or How to Get What You Want

2010-07-18T18:35:00.000-07:00

One hot afternoon, while wearing his halter with the lead line still attached, my horse was grazing. He handled the loose line carefully. Most of the time keeping it out of the way, or carefully stepping over it. But all that grass was distracting, and he stepped on the line with his hind foot. At that point he decided to try another patch of grass and started walking away. The rope tightened against his nose because his weight on it wouldn't let the line drag. He didn't panic, fight, or become upset in any way. He just kept quietly walking. And bent his neck and head around to the side to accommodate the line's restriction. Three steps he took. Then, in the normal course of the walk, his hind foot came up, releasing the rope. He carefully pulled the line aside and made it to his new spot as though nothing had happened. Life is like that. Sometimes we find ourselves with restrictions or obstacles when we least expect it. Like my horse did. We could get mad. Or let our feelings become hurt. We could fight. Usually, little is gained that way. Or, like him, if we are willing to be a little flexible we can reach our goal without even slowing down.

Then, a short time later, he was again distracted by the tempting grasses, but this time stepped on the lead line with his fore hoof right up near his nose. He continued eating all he could reach, and again did not panic or fight. When he had finished all nearby grass, he simple changed his stance. And he was free again without restriction. No fuss, no pain. Life is like that. Sometimes we get bound up tight by people or events around us. All we have to do is change our stance. When we are willing to change the way we stand on issues and problems in life, change the way we look at things, sometimes the grasses (rewards and solutions) become much more plentiful.

A New Experience

2010-07-08T18:24:00.000-07:00

I had an opportunity to take a workshop on portrait painting. If you are interested in seeing the progress through the week's work, go to my Art blog...link is at the right.

I work best supervising others . . .

2010-05-26T19:31:00.000-07:00

Monday, late afternoon, Judy discovered the sewer backing up into our basement. Called a plumber, who after 5 p.m. is very expensive. He looked at things and said it is not a plumbing problem but a sewer line problem. We called Roto Rooter. They actually came about 8 p.m. He was able to get our line open again, but couldn't get his snake beyond about 184' and our line is closer to 300' across two neighbors' yards. We dug out a second closer clean-out valve (see picture above) Tuesday, and he returned today with a snaking camera to find out what was wrong inside the line. We found the line has been crushed and only about 2" of space was letting water through. We are going to have to dig down about 5' in one of the neighbor's yards to repair the line, maybe taking out some sidewalk or street to do so. I am expecting a 2-3 thousand dollar expense out of this.
It is good I have a job. This is how you win friends and influence neighbors.

Then Katie observed. . .

2010-05-26T05:10:00.000-07:00

Katie watched me as I placed out the materials for our next lesson, chin cupped in her hand, elbow on the table. Then she asked, "Why is your ear growing a beard?"

Ohhh, the changes time has wrought.

Katie came in . . .

2010-05-10T04:46:00.000-07:00

Katie came in from recess, just a rubbing her nose tip in circles with her palm very vigorously.

"What's the matter, Katie? Do you have hayfever?" I asked.

"No. Just a big booger in my nose that won't come out. And I tried to sneeze, and sneeze, and everything, but it still won't come out," Katie replied. "Like this . . . " And here she demonstrated the ol' farmer's handkerchief trick of blowing one's nose with the thumb and index finger, the hand upside down, with the palm facing forward, and leaning over.

"Well, there is a tissue in the box in the corner if you want to try one," I said.

"Okay." Taking a tissue, she held it up with two hands to her nose and blew. Then held it down and inspected the contents curously.

Her face just lit up with joy! "I guess I just needed more pressure," she exclaimed!

And then Katie said . . .

2010-04-27T17:24:00.000-07:00

When I am happy, it is sunny.

When I am sad, it rains.

When I am shy, it snows.

When I am mad, it is stormy.

(She paused and thought, then said . . .)

I guess I can change the weather.

More Katie

2010-04-27T02:29:00.001-07:00

While working on more vocabulary, the word "size" came up. Checking her understanding of it, I asked, "Katie, do you know what size you are?"

"Yea, I'm a small, sometimes a medium."

Then after surveying my gut for awhile, she said, "But you have to be a large."

Meanderings

2010-04-17T19:46:00.000-07:00

Old age brings interesting changes. Inability to sleep is one. My body hurts (fibromialgia) and I'm tired from 6 high stress weeks at school. But unable to sleep even with a sleeping pill, I got up and participated in the sacred routine of dunking cookies. It is a ritual. In this case lemon iced cookies in chocolate milk. Raised in the Great Depression, my dad used bread and milk. Principle is the same: mediation.

Question arose in my mind regarding the purpose of life. It has been said we are here to be tested. With decades of testing under my belt, both administrating and receiving, my conclusion is that testing is one the shallowist means of measureing an individual possible. Surely our God can do better than that. If our eternal happiness and progression is based on passing a test, then our God is not a very effective leader and teacher. Reasons of this conclusion are many, if any care to ask.

What is the nature of life's so-called test: pass/fail? Many frightening people cling tenaciously o that one. That is popular right now. How about multiple choice? A segment of society find that apalling, as they should. An essay, written by our lifes? Better, but some of us are not good writers. Multiple choiec? Many curdle at that thought as being too ambiguous. So the question becomes even more what kind of test, if we have any hopes of passing it. The older I get, the more I doubt passing a test is the primary purpose of life.

Though I may present few answers, I hope to present some thought proking questions to those who are mature enought not to be frightened by searching queries. I do have a testimony, but that will be shared after the questions to follow.

Good night for now.

A Frightening Thought . . .

2010-04-13T15:51:00.000-07:00

Although spring around here can be cold and dark, the bright spirit and thoughts of young students can be refreshing:
We were reviewing a vocabulary list and the word was 'drive'.
"Katie, do you know how to drive a car?" I asked.
(Katie is a ten year old deaf girl I tutor.)
"Not really", she wistfully replied. "Just a toy car on the sidewalk and grass and stuff."
I replied, "Well, when you are sixteen you will learn to drive an adult car." I paused. Then said, "That is a frightening thought, isn't it?"
Katie thought it over a minute, then said, "You don't have to be afraid, Mr. Nelson, 'cuz you'll be dead."

One Little Girl's Thankful List

2009-11-27T11:39:00.000-08:00

One of the little girls I teach is a nine year old profoundly deaf child, for whom language and speech are difficult. I gave her the sentence, "I am thankful for . . . . . ", hoping for 2 or 3 responses to complete it. Instead, this is the list she gave me:

everybody
life
home
school
family
all my friends (followed by a smiley face)
foods
bed
teachers
my backyard
my peach tree
computers
tickles
seasons
books
my birthday
the day
clothes
TV
video games
a rainbow
colors
chairs
tables
singing (remember, she is deaf but has a cochlear implant)
balloons
my bike
camping (she has never been camping, yet)

Now that the rush of preparation for Thanksgiving is over, I thought it might be good, to ponder and consider for what I am thankful. I am thankful for this student. Her simplicity; her dreams and experiences listed above seem so refreshingly profound to me.

The Metaphor of the Moose

2009-09-03T16:16:00.000-07:00

While riding with Dreampacker last Saturday morning, we chanced upon three moose. The first of which was this young bull. He was having a hard time. He'd recently been kicked out of his mother's care and the big guys were beginning to push him around with "the season" beginning. Then we showed up, and he was unsure. With all the bear attack stories this year in Utah, I'd still rather face a bear on the trail than a moose. Even a young one like this can be much more dangerous.

This life is hard wired for adversity. It happens. A lot. We could have looked at this guy (as big as my horse already) and considered him to be an adversary, a moment of adversity. A problem. Trouble. Had we done so, he would have obliged and become something more to be reckoned with. By choosing to look at him as an adventure to be desired, our horses calmed, he calmed, and we had the joy of a minute of his association before he moved off the trail.

Adversity is like that, too. If we stay calm and seek the adventure in it, it becomes a learning experience to be cherished, at least in hind sight some day.

Then adversity, like this moose, when it has taught us what we desired at the time we wrote it into our life's script, will take one last look over its shoulder and disappear into the trees. Perhaps even passing us by altogether . . .

. . . so we can turn our attention again to the beauty of life around us and . . .

. . . to the peaceful joy of the sunrise, of both the one at hand and of the One to come.

Such are the ponderings of this grandpa when he chances upon a moose.
(Well, if I'm dressed. But that, as you know, is another story.)

Almost Missed

2009-08-28T19:49:00.001-07:00

Dreampacker and I almost missed this little beaver pond and spring on our ride the other evening, yet it is big enough to go skinny dipping. As the story below asks, what else might we be missing when we "ride" too fast?

Washington DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.4 minutes later:the violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the till and, without stopping, continued to walk.6 minutes:A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.10 minutes:A 3 year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly, as the kid stopped to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced them to move on.45 minutes:The musician played. Only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace.He collected $32.1 hour:He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities. The questions raised: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be:If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ....
How many other things are we missing?

Morning Unfolding

2009-08-23T09:17:00.000-07:00

The sun has risen above Mt. Ben Lomond as seen from the valley, but here at Mountain Road Ranch all is still in the shadows of a clinging night.

There is a mist of early morning rain on the roses . . .

. . . and the early bees are "busy gathering like never before...yep! . . . it's going to be a long hard winter", . . . oh, but, that's another story.

And like families, there are some dragging out late and asking," Is it morning yet?"

Some blossoms are so determined, they seem to glow . . .

. . . without any direct sunlight.

But when the sun slips across the Pass, bathing the garden in a moment of slanted light . . .

contrasting lights and shadows bring new depths . . .

. . . and even an old Zinnia, pregnant with seed, promises one more day of color.

So too, the corn makes one more try to ensure every silken thread is pollinated . . .

. . . and it goes not unnoticed by the gathering bees.

When the sun moves behind Lewis Peak,
throughout the garden faint light still shows contrasts . . .

. . . of color and shape . . .

. . . and contour.

And still some glow . . .

. . . and seem to burn with an internal fire not yet from the sun.

Others, bowed patiently through the night, begin to open, lift and face the sun.
So may we all.

Of course there is a post script:
Can anyone identify this unique blossom?
Hint: it is in the garden.

Royal Feast

2009-08-23T08:35:00.000-07:00

There are many metaphors drawn comparing gardening, planting, and harvesting with spiritual terms of planting seeds, wheat and tares, harvests to come, faith, works, and much more. Suffice it to say, " I did prune, and dung 'round about it." And now the harvest is in full swing. Apricots are done. Our corn is gone now; the sweetest you'll ever taste. Peaches are in in mid season, with two more later varieties to come. People drive from clear out state to get our apricots and peaches. My best peaches are the size of softballs and much easier on the palette. Grapes are about a week away. Please come and get some, for our larder is full of last year's juice. Some say pride is of Lucifer. Maybe. But I am proud of the harvest the Lord and I put together. It lacks only those to enjoy it.

New Adventures?

2009-08-17T17:54:00.000-07:00

I started school today with two new assignments added to my full case load of deaf kids, grades 4 - 11 this year. One is to train a new teacher of the deaf hired a week ago. The other is to coach 15 seasoned teachers of the deaf. I meet with my director tomorrow to find out how this all will fit into one day or week. The day is not long enough. Is there no rest for the wicked?

Hiking and Camping with Dreampacker

2009-07-17T14:00:00.000-07:00

Those of you who have had the pleasure of camping with Dreampacker know that you have to rise early to keep up with her, especially if she has a camera (she took about 500 photos on this trip). Even the northern latitude sun above had to hustle. She was very willing to attend the Stampede Rodeo in Calgary with me . . .

but her real love is the out of doors. Especially if it has dramatic clouds.
She can sit and peacefully enjoy the scenery and the day, but soon details catch her eye . . .
and she wades into the glacial river to check out the multi-colored stones more closely.
Suddenly one "speaks" to her. You all have seen this happen before . . .
and she'll save the special one (or two, or three) and wash it clean to go home with her.
But she loves animate nature, too. I think she regretted not being at this stump when a bear tore it apart looking for grubs. But smaller animals . . .
would fearlessly check out her toes and fingers, or . . .
be like this little gray bird escorting her up the slot canyon. It would hop from rock to rock as though showing her the best way to go upstream. It disappeared when other hikers came by. But after they left, it came right back to her.
Large animals were also unconcerned in her presence (this is without a telephoto lens) and continued their grazing or . . .
resting in full view of her camera. From large to small, from dramatic to sweet, she loves it all. Most of her photos probably were of wild flowers. Check out her blog to see some. However . . .
when the mood hits, she loves to explore new sights such as this trail to a water fall. She is on the catwalk in the top left corner. Naturally, being a Utah desert hiking veteran . . .
she recognizes a cairn when she sees one, like this one marking the pictographs on the wall behind her.
It is always an adventure to be with Dreampacker in the wilderness. It is so refreshing to see things through her eyes, and to feel the special love she brings to both God's creations and His creatures.

Law of Threes Disproven

2009-06-20T10:10:00.000-07:00

#4. Could hear water running in the pipes yesterday morning; thought a toilet needed "looking into" because all the hoses were indeed off. Or the water heater was going out, or the softener, maybe. Put off further checking. Last night could hear it still and checked further. Found the pressure reduction valve leaking and spraying water all over the crawl space. Learned two things: plumbing repairs are more expensive at night, and it pays to thoroughly check immediately when you hear water running and it shouldn't be.

#5. Came home from shopping and lunch with Dreampacker yesterday, and found the horses had opened the pasture gate and turned our yard into a race track. The lawn and garden are heavily churned up from the orchard to the vineyard with holes and skid marks. At least they didn't do damage to the neighbors' yards or get out onto the street, or up on the mountain.

(Or is this the beginning of a second set of three?)

A Profound Question

2009-06-11T18:40:00.000-07:00

While cleaning clogged rain gutters in the storm this morning, I wondered why is it we (I) tend to postpone necessary tasks when they are convenient, till the time they are necessary? You know, like paying taxes on the 15th?

The Law of Threes

2009-06-11T18:32:00.000-07:00

First, Judy sat at a stop sign and observed an oncoming car run thru it, only to be T-boned by the vehicle with the right of way. The spinning cars rear-ended Judy's Pilot. She wasn't hurt, gratefully.

Second, I lost a $2000 hearing aid in the tall grasses along the road side. Too embarrassing to explain how. Judy found it under knee high grasses 45 minutes later.

Third, a nearly empty salt shaker slipped out of the fingers, landed on the glass stove top, and shattered it. Repairs pending. Microwave works, though.

Hope the Law of Three's holds; this is enough for awhile.

Muleteer Bob

2009-05-25T06:46:00.000-07:00

Academy of Honorable GRAND CANYON MULETEERS, North Rim Trails and Extremities
Henceforth, Cowboy Bob, from this day forth shall be known as a MULETEER BOB, owing to valor, Prowess, Skill and team work with the trusty mount, "Fred". Together, this day of May 23, 2009, they descended the mighty maw, soaring walls and narrow trail, all while displaying unwavering bravery, benevolence and valor. Be it never forgotten on this day, that mule and man descended and ascended in the Grand Canyon, North Rim and thus shall be entitled to accolades, hosannas and bragging rights heretofore forever conferred.

This time it's Vultures

2009-05-12T07:09:00.000-07:00

Last year it was 5 owls. This year, I thought 7 golden eagles were hanging out in the tall trees for a little while. However, after looking in the Field guide, Dreampacker thinks they look like Turkey Vultures. Hmmmm. Any guesses?

Gone International

2009-03-01T10:00:00.000-08:00

Looking for a shirt to wear, I began noticing labels in my closet. There are labels from:

Cambodia

China

Bangladesh

Korea

Viet Nam

Indonesia

Honduras

Brazil

Sri Lanka

Oman

Mexico (Wrangler Jeans)

India

Hong Kong

Mongolia

Guatamala

Turkey

I thought this an interesting and graphic comment on how times have changed.

Check out my Art Blog

2008-12-29T07:44:00.000-08:00

http://robertnelsonart.blogspot.com/

Now This is a Traditional Christmas

2008-12-27T17:37:00.000-08:00

According to the jokes(as in "The Family Dog"), the husband is supposed to get a new tie(s) for Christmas. Well, I did. Four of them to be exact, all from my loving wife. She thought I needed them. Number three here is a print of the Van Gogh painting "Cypress Trees".

So, of course, I give her what I think she needs. Somehow that always translates into something I secretly want. But, being a man, what better gift is there than a new power tool. . .or at least a power generator.
And thus the traditions continue. I'm sure I'll enjoy her gift very much. Merry Christmas to all!

The Allegory of the Rose Garden

2008-10-12T07:47:00.000-07:00

Sometimes life seems warm and glowing . . .

Then, one dark and stormy night, adversity comes around . . .
Often it makes us feel lost, and we can't see the light . . .
We sometimes feel laden down, deformed, and overly burdened by life . . .
Or the trial seems to drain the very fluid of our soul . . .
We often can feel alone when our heads are frosted and grey . . .
Yet, neighbors are sometimes burdened even more . . .
Adversity happens regardless of size, age, shape, or color . . .
But our burdens will always fall by the wayside . . .
And when all seems darkest, coldest, and lost . . .
We may have bent, almost been broken . . .
But when we reach for the "Son" . . .
We will be raised in a new cycle and be refreshed . . .
And our own light will glow through, again . . .
To join with His Light, to be glorious evermore . . .

A few Uinta photos

2008-08-17T05:02:00.000-07:00

Creation of "Middle Earth"

2008-07-08T20:52:00.001-07:00

Begin with a masonite board painted with gesso and powdered marble. Block in the shapes in sepia tones.November 14, 2007, adding the mountains and distant trees.
Jan. 12th detail--
Jan. 12, 2008
Jan. 24, 2008
Feb. 3, 2008
Feb. 25, 2008

Detail of rock, March 31st
Nearly finished, July 4th

Springtime in the Rockies

2008-06-13T05:29:00.000-07:00

The mountain smelled so fresh. One can feel the quickening of spring. At this altitude summer comes later. Especially this year.

Sunrise

2008-06-03T07:52:00.000-07:00

My favorite time of day is sunrise. Today found me at the North Ogden pool where I swam into the sunrise. Strangely, I've never done that before. I had the pool all to myself (and a couple of seagulls on the fence who seemed disgruntled). Though I rested often, I swam for 45 minutes, watching the light slide across a few clouds until, reaching under them, it set Mt. Ben Lomond's snow on fire. Then the light rose above the clouds, and Ben Lomond went back to sleep. I don't have the vocabulary to describe the colors. I felt so alive. However, I learned, again, that atrophy is a terrible thing. They say a storm is coming in tomorrow. I've never had the joy of swimming in a storm before, either. If they'll stay open, I gotta try it.

A Thought From My Youthful Gatherings

2008-04-23T19:49:00.000-07:00

William Ellery Channing wrote:

To live content with small means,
To seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion;
To be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich;
To study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly;
To listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart;
To bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never.
In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common.
This is to be my symphony.

Think You Are Having a Bad Day?

2008-04-19T16:50:00.000-07:00

Some of these have got to hurt in the morning, but I found them funny. So much for my maturity.

A Thought for Food - for Thought

2008-03-31T04:33:00.000-07:00

Julia Cameron wrote:
"Only recently recognized as an addiction, workaholism still receives a great deal of support in our society. The phrase 'I'm working' has a certain unassailable air of goodness and duty to it. The truth is we are very often working to avoid ourselves, our spouses, our real feelings. . . Play can make a workaholic very nervous. Fun is scary."
My favorite memories are the times we had fun together. When we worked together, it was fun.

Quenching Spring Fever

2008-02-26T17:41:00.000-08:00

Came home from school on this warm afternoon fired up to get spring rolling, determined to start the annual fruit tree pruning. Snow still on the ground so I put on my irrigation black rubber boots that come to the tops of my calves. Oiled the lopping shears and headed for the peach trees. I was so eager, so excited. The sun was warm on my face and I unbuttoned my jacket. By the time I got to the first tree in line, snow had filled my boots and my feet were wet. Soon they were freezing. I got one tree mostly done and had to quit. I did find the buried water hose for the horses and thawed it out so they could have fresh water, though. Then a friend came to visit and gave me an excuse to wait for a couple more days. My spring fever has abated and cooled a little until my feet warm up, but by Friday will be raging again I'm sure.

TOUCHES I LOVE

2008-01-03T22:12:00.001-08:00

Touches on the outside:

Grass under bare feet
Fingers in my hair
Sunshine on my shoulders
A child's hand
A spouse's hand
Breezes through my shirt
Rolling sweat
Blue-white winter days' sharpness against my cheek
A horse's muzzle
A cat's tongue
A dog's fur at the base of his ear
A horse's heart beat between my legs
Water sliding along my body when swimming
Cool summer sheets
Warm winter fleece
Silk
Satin
Flannel
Bread on my tongue
A roll in the snow when super heated
A waterfall on my head and shoulders
A snowflake on my nose
An autumn leaf resting in my palm
A massage
A full stream from the tap on my toes
Hugs
Kisses
The weight of quilts in winter and nothing in summer
Cozy sleeping bags
Tugs on the belaying line
An all over brush scratching
The grip of a butterfly
Skinny dipping

Touches on the inside:

Music
Laughter
"Heart sneezes"
A nice meal
Learning
Hugs and Kisses
Love
Light and color
Exercise
Rhythm
A good reading book
Chuckles
Things of the Spirit

Touching Thoughts

2007-12-31T13:47:00.000-08:00

Since touch is something I have come to realize is very important to me, I am going to put a few things as I come across them together here. Maybe I can come close to expressing some of what I feel, some of what I understand through touch of all kinds. This will be a changing and growing blog, I hope. To begin:

". . . we are not endowed with real life, and all that seems most real about us is but the thinnest substance of a dream---till the heart be touched. That touch creates us."

Nathaniel Hawthorne (from his notebooks)

I'm not a poet, either, but . . .

2007-09-24T17:49:00.000-07:00

Velvet reds, maroons

Fires orange, showers yellow

Renewing autumn

(a humble attempt at Haiku)

Starlight

2007-09-18T21:23:00.000-07:00

I saw The Milky Way for the first time in a long time this morning on the way to work. So refreshing. So simple. So good.

The Male Dance

2007-07-24T11:03:00.001-07:00

There is a special feeling of mutual understanding and respect that develops when men work at hard labor together. It is best when each knows what to do, digs in without instructions and joins the rhythm, the dance as happened this time. As tasks change and are completed, each moves to the next step without interrupting the dance. Conversation is limited, in fact, rarely needed, and is little more than bits of banter. But there is an awareness of what each of the other partners is adding to the dance. Each leads, each follows in turn, each carries his share of the labor and more. There is woven through the dance, a tapestry of respect, trust, shared skills, and memories that bind. One looks and thinks, "This is how men work, and I am one of them. I am accepted in this dance of men. I am a man." Such an experience is essential from time to time to every man so he can take his own measure and assure his heart that his place in this world is secure.

Last Thursday I had the joy of having three of my "seven sons" come and assist in removing 11 cottonwood trees. There was heat, dust, noise, and physical labor plenty. But I will cherish the "dance" that ensued for a long time. A special part that made my heart swell with pride was when I looked up and saw "our women" who were there, pitching in and working, too. They stacked, pulled, and hauled along side the men. Perhaps it is a strange thing to feel such a mundane experience is so special, but to me it is. More importantly, I know the family members who were not there due to distance, work commitments, or health situations would have and could have joined in the "dance" were they able to arrange it. These bindings, whether they come from working side by side, hiking Timp, wading the Narrows, birthing a child, making a home, or living and forgiving together, are the bindings of eternity. These bindings are as strong and eternal as any other.

More Wanderings

2007-07-17T23:08:00.000-07:00

Late, tired, and can't sleep. Wind is blowing the trees outside. I can easily imagine it to be the wind in the Limber pines back at Wheeler Peak of the last 4 days. Miss them already. Wind in pines is a unique melody with its own harmony. Love mountains. They are cleansing and uplifting in so many ways. My place in Paradise has some breath-taking mountains.
There was a small stream, lined by green grass and filled with moss covered rocks. Music. When I was still, I could hear a pitch below me, one in front, and two more different ones upstream at a small water fall. Their harmony was constantly changing, but always there, always in harmony. Literal music. All things have their music. So much is above or below our receptive range right now. Even the pitch of the universe itself is measured and known as it hums along very, very low. I am anxious to get my real hearing back. Maybe then the "still, small voice" won't be so difficult to hear at times. What music there must be!
I love the music of Judy's heartbeat accompanied by the rhythm of her breathings. I love the music of wind, leaves, and streams. I love the music of laughter, especially childrens'. I love the music of moving water, especially in a forest rain, or snow fall. Have you ever been quiet enough to hear the snow fall? I love the music of thunder in a slot canyon or between high peaks. It rocks me. I love the music of heart to heart communication that uses no voices.
Watching Judy play in the forest was music in motion. A dance. No agenda. No place to go. Just beauty to observe, wonders to see, music to hear. She played and explored with the innocent joy of a small child and took wonder in many of the same things. It brought youth and fun back into my heart to be with her. What a gift to be able to set aside adult cares in so carefree a manner. Now I understand Him better when He said, "one must become as a little child. . ."

Random Thoughts on Refinishing Cabinets

2007-07-12T11:19:00.000-07:00

I refinished all the cabinets in the kitchen and bathrooms yesterday. They look new and the wood has a rich tone to it. Nice.

Sometimes I will postpone an event or task such as this one because I don't know the outcome will be beneficial enough to overcome my lethargy. I wonder if I'll approach the resurrection like that?

A new face for the cabinets. Don't we all sometimes desire a new face? Sometimes I am bored with the old one, sometimes I don't like the effects of it. How often did my mother tell me to put on a new face, or put on a happy face?

A new face. Is that why women wear makeup at times? Does it change their emotions or the give and take with their surroundings? What power does that give them? Should men wear makeup?

Do we have different faces for different people, occasions, and different moods? When we change faces, are we being honest?

How often is our face determined by others' expectations or dictated by society?

I want a new face lit by the light of Christ . . . and by my own increased light. Does love put on a new face for us? I think so.

(Shouldn't do repetitive motion tasks late at night when tired. My mind wanders. Or is a wandering mind a good thing?)

Hinting

2007-07-12T11:13:00.000-07:00

A hint if interested: I consider out of the ten questions, all to be false but one. Further light will be shed if interested.

No longer lurking. . .

2007-07-09T18:57:00.000-07:00

There are some posting blogs who . . . well, if they can do it, so can I. Besides, it isn't fair to lurk on the sidelines with sundry comments without entering the arena. And some of the blogs written surely require comments. I have grown to love the communication possibilities opened.

I haven't figured this all out yet, but will chip away at it at a pace to assure non-addiction. I will willingly accept all advice, but will heed it at my own discretion, of course.

To begin with: perhaps I may be permitted to provoke some thought? A close friend was preparing his High Priest Group lesson (an assignment we have in common) one recent Saturday, and prayed for guidance to know how to stretch and help the brethren to grow without stretching them too much, and these are the questions which were given him:

True or False ?

Because of my willingness to obey the commandments the Lord loves me more than one who is not willing.
Acceptance of priesthood responsibilities (any calling) gives me the right to have a special relationship with the Savior.
The Lord withdraws his love from me when I do things that offend his spirit.
If God can withdraw his love when my neighbor offends the spirit, so can I.
Divine love is conditional.
The Savior loves me the same no matter what I do or don't do.
The Celestial Kingdom is reserved for those whom the Lord loves the most.
Enoch and his people were taken up because they learned to love on a higher level than we have.
I need to qualify for the Savior's divine love.
If I fail to qualify for His highest love in this life, having been given a divine opportunity, I will never receive another chance.

May your thoughts be provoked.