Darn that Blue Spruce is Big

This is the Blue Spruce we planted at our home 45-50 years ago.  When we put in our sewer line, the line went through the roots on one side of the tree, and consequently it leaned for a while.  However it seems to have straitened nicely.  It is now over running the yard at our old house as well as the neighbors.  When we lived there there wasn't a fence dividing the properties in front, it started level with the front of the house.  I haven't lived in this house since marrying in 1983.  My mom sold it to my sister in about 1985 and moved to a condo in Logan.  My sister subsequently sold the house and they moved to Idaho.  The circular driveway use to be more complete, but it did extend beyond the property line and was cut back for sewer lines as well.

Poetry I Like: Above Bear Lake by May Swenson

Above Bear Lake by May Swenson

Sky and lake the same blue,
and blue the languid mountain between them.
Cloud fluffs make the scene flow.
Greeny white pools of aspen snake up,
graven with welts and calluses where branches
dried and broke. Other scabs are lover-made:
Initials dug within linked hearts and, higher
some jackknifed peace signs.
A breeze, and the filtered light makes shine
a million bristling quills of spruce and fir
downslope, where slashes of sky and lake
hang blue—windows of intense stain. We take
the rim trail, crushing bloom of sage,
sniffing resinous wind, our boots in the wild, 
small, everycolored Rocky Mountain flowers.
Suddenly, a steep drop-off: below we see the whole, 
the whale of it—deep, enormous blue—
that widens, while the sky slants back to pale 
behind a watercolored mountain.
Western Tanager – we call him “Fireface: - 
darts ahead, we climb to our camp
as the sun slips lower. Clipped to the top
of the tallest fir, Olive-sided Flycatcher,
over and over, fierce-whistles, “Whip!
Whip three bears! Whip, whip three bears!”
This poem is presented at the Bear Lake Overlook tourist information center.  This is my view of the lake from the overlook early in the morning.  

For a view of some of the flowers that morning look here.  This poetry really paints a picture in my mind.  I am not as familiar with birds, and didn't hear any bird song the morning we were there.  

My Mom's Favorite Song: Love at Home

"Love At Home" is my mother's favorite song.  It was a regular at family home evening.

Lyrics

1. 1. There is beauty all around
   When there's love at home;
   There is joy in ev'ry sound
   When there's love at home.
   Peace and plenty here abide,
   Smiling sweet on ev'ry side.
   Time doth softly, sweetly glide
   When there's love at home.
   Love at home, love at home;
   Time doth softly, sweetly glide
   When there's love at home.
2. 2. In the cottage there is joy
   When there's love at home;
   Hate and envy ne'er annoy
   When there's love at home.
   Roses bloom beneath our feet;
   All the earth's a garden sweet,
   Making life a bliss complete
   When there's love at home.
   Love at home, love at home;
   Making life a bliss complete
   When there's love at home.
3. 3. Kindly heaven smiles above
   When there's love at home;
   All the world is filled with love
   When there's love at home.
   Sweeter sings the brooklet by;
   Brighter beams the azure sky.
   Oh, there's One who smiles on high
   When there's love at home.
   Love at home, love at home;
   Oh, there's One who smiles on high
   When there's love at home.
4. Text and music: John Hugh McNaughton, 1829-1891

Gladiator Play in Rigby

When I was little, and spending a week with grandparents in Rigby, Idaho, I went with my brother Weldon and my cousin Danny Green to a movie about Gladiators.  I imagine it was "Spartacus and the Ten Gladiators" which came out in 1964.  We were totally overcome by the fighting in the movie. We especially enjoyed the scenes in the arena where gladiators would show their strength against each other in battles to the death.  Being boys, we were determined to become gladiators ourselves.  It just so happens that Rigby at the time had a gladiator ring.  I don't know if this was an old fountain or wading pools, but it was perfect for gladiator wars as it served as a coliseum.  The cement structure was about three feet deep, circular, had a step down along the edge all the way around, and gave suitable space for fighting.  
We we made to this arena at the Rigby Park for some reenacting.  My younger brother Charlie joined us for this expedition even though he had not seen the movie.  We armed ourselves with stick swords and spears and had tournaments to see who would sin.  It made for an exciting afternoon.
One type (of course who can prevent every such occurrence) in chopping my younger brother I banger his elbow with my stick.  He took to crying.  A passerby in a car, rolled down her window and expressed her disgust over the way we were abusing each other, and beating on each other with sticks.  She nagged at us for a bit before heading on her way.  We had a good laugh at her expense after she had gone.
Charlie's elbow wasn't the only casualty, we all banged a finger at least once.  We were trying to act out, rather than actually fight our battles.  But anyway, accidents happen.  In trying to make our activities lifelike we could not always control our swings.
It seemed we shortly became bored with this game, mostly due to the injuries.  It must have been some pretty serious boredom, because I do not ever remember playing "Gladiator" again.

Tony's New Favorite Song

This is a new primary son.  It has quick become Tony's favorite.  I was subbing in primary and this song brought tears to my eyes and I almost had to stop conducting.

My Poetry: Living Between the Light and the Shadows (original)

Found this copy of the song lyrics I wrote,  I reused this with different lyrics in "Your Heart Will Burn."  But this is the original, written before I went on my mission.
Living between the light and the shadows

The lines and the curves

The right and the wrong.

Wanting to be somebody good

                To do what I should

                                To know… the way.

But life goes on.

                And I sit and I cry

                While wondering why…

                                                                Why Lord?

Living upon the edge of the morning

                The crest of a mountain

                                The tail of a breeze

Singing the lines of a sweet song

                Which longs to be free

                                But doesn’t rise from my throat.

And life goes on.

                And I sit and I cry,

While wondering why

Why am I here lord…

                                                Oh why?

But somewhere... 

                Inside of me I know

                           That someday Me you will show

                                                Just why I am here.

But till then…

                Life

                   Goes

                      On.

My Poetry: As I Traveled to Her

As I Traveled to Her

 

As I traveled in my ship,

Looking through the window I saw the moon and the stars.

I saw the lights of the city

Their reflection on the glass.

 

As I traveled to see her I felt alive.

I felt every emotion I knew—as to her side I went:

I felt nervous; I felt hate;

I felt love; I felt anger;

I felt home; I felt happy;

I felt envy; I felt sad…

 

As I traveled that errant voyage,

Going to and fro along my way,

I realized I would never arrive to her side;

Her face I would never see again.

I wrote this probably in that period after mission and before I met Sheri.  I don't know why I wrote ship, reminds me of a space ship or something,