Indiana Visit

Nathan and Megan went all out for our visit a couple of weeks ago, arranging for the first real snow fall of the season the morning after we arrived.

We went to Ali's basketball game on Saturday morning.  She did great!  She made two baskets and a free throw, plus lots of assists, blocks, etc.  Way to hustle, Ali!  After the game, we went to Dunkin' Donuts to celebrate.

In the afternoon, Dad, Nathan, Ali and Kait played "Pac-Man" in the snow.  You'll have to ask Dad for an explanation.  Apparently it's a modern version of "Fox and Geese" or something.  (I never played that one either.  The most we ever did in the snow growing up was build a snowman!)

The highlight and purpose for our trip was Avery Rae Call's blessing on Sunday.  It was a wonderful, sweet event to be long remembered.

Avery Rae Call in her blessing dress from G&G Call, lying on the hand crocheted baby blanket from Grandma Carlson

Nathan gave Ava a beautiful blessing.  He told her of the love of her family, blessed her with the love and joy of learning, to have the desire to gain a testimony, and the desire to be married in the temple and to keep herself worthy.

Beautiful mother and daughter!

Ava's loving family--lots of personality!

Grandpa and Grandma were very happy to be there, too!

We enjoyed dinner that evening with the Carlsons and the Dowlings, Megan's sister and her family.

Kaitlyn's Star of the Week poster

It was 8 degrees (but with the wind chill 8 below) when Kait and Ali got on the bus Monday morning.

While Kait and Ali were at school, Grandma and Grandpa chilled with Max and Ava.

Dad replaced a hard-to-reach bulb in the living room ceiling fan.  High ceilings are great until the light burns out!

Ava is well--and gently--loved by her big sisters and brother!

Another highlight of our trip was participating in evening scripture study.  This wonderful tradition, not always easy to implement, is already blessing the family in many ways.  Ali and Kait are amazing readers and Max does a good job repeating his verse after his mom or dad.  I actually struggled a bit because the print was so small :).  (Kait is in a reading group by herself at school and her teacher meets with her out in the hallway.  A few weeks ago, the teacher had her read a story to the whole class.)

We had lots of fun making bread and rolls.  Ali, Kait, and Max became experts at making the tied roll design (Megan, too)!  As I recall, we made about six loaves of bread and about 80 rolls.  Am I right, Megan?!  And last week, Megan made another triple batch.  Dare I say it?  She's on a roll!

Children don't need expensive toys....Got a spare piece of carpet?!

Max and I had a lot of fun playing this hide and seek game--he never seemed to tire of it. And I never tired of his joy at being discovered!

Old Shirts

It is a second day of trauma in the Call household. Yesterday, to the sound of the death march, and yielding to pressure from the matriarch of the family, I somberly carried my old favorite (but now worn out) shirt all the way from our bedroom to the trash can in the garage. In its blue and white window pane pattern were folded memories of excitement (when I first bought it about 15 years ago), fear (when for a moment I was out of control and partially flexed before I realized that if I fully flexed I would have shredded my shirt altogether), and satisfaction (when I carefully stitched up the holes so that the repair was essentially invisible to the naked eye). It had been a good shirt. It was the kind that did not show wrinkles much at all and did not require ironing or any other special care after washing. It had been loyal to me through thick and thin (and it was more on the thin side of late) and it was comfortable to have around. The edges were worn and lacked the crisp texture of years ago and new holes had appeared because of the inadvertent strains of use. It was indeed with a heavy heart that I gently deposited it in the garbage bin knowing that I would never see it again.

Today the trauma continued. I had returned home from church wearing the last of my missionary white shirts. Although it was “permanent pressed” when Mom and Dad bought it, the treatment had long since left its fibers. The shoulder seams rode high on my shoulders as if from a different era when shirts were supposed to fit rather than drape. Although generally white, it was no longer as bright as it had been and the body of the fabric was limp and lifeless--some would even say it looked wrinkled. It had served me well as I walked from door to door to door in Italy. When my feet were sore and my socks worn out, my shirt was still strong and resilient. When it was soaked by the rains of fall, or steamed in the humidity of summer, there was no complaint, just silent resolve to keep doing its job. It was there when I offered to help a couple of young college students with their calculus and they thought they would humiliate me with the perplexity of the problem. It stayed with me when I calmly explained a trigonometric transform that led to the solution easily and quickly. And when my pride almost led me to say some haughty remark, it teamed up with my tie to choke away any untoward comment. After other shirts had long since given up because of stain or stress, this one had “hung in there” quietly in the closet ready at a moment’s notice to again come to my aid. Just moments ago, I gently laid it to rest beside its younger, casual brother in the silent darkness.

Watch out Penney’s here I come! Shopping Spree! Yippee!

An Open Letter to Michelle:

The long walk actually began in kindergarten. Indeed, the entire plan until now was unveiled and adopted before first grade. With a little encouragement (and noted lack of free agency), Michelle, you decided to proceed sequentially through elementary school from first through fifth grades. Then came middle school and you struggled against your urge to try seventh before sixth, and then go to eighth. Then of course came ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth just like clockwork-–boom, bam, bing, bong. Now did you stop there? No way, off you flew to thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, fifteen and a hafth and then sixteenth. So now what? Graduation of course! And that is exactly what happened. On April 23 and 24, 2010, like a speck of pepper in a sea of dark blue robes, you distinguished yourself by wearing a cap and gown that looked exactly like everybody else. But we all saw you. We all recognized your beautiful shining hair, your captivating smile, and your energetic wave. (Thank goodness you called us on your cell phone to describe where you were seated.)

After all those years of school, Michelle, I am sure that you are a little nostalgic at the thought of not continuing with those late night studies, the cramming for the tests, the term papers and the challenging lectures. Gone are the days of guessing at the unknown test questions, rushing from class to class, grabbing a quick bite before heading to the library and worrying before the grades are posted. YOU DID IT. YOU GRADUATED FROM BYU! It is better than a trophy. It is something that is yours forever and nobody can ever take it away. It is now a part of who you are. We are all excited for you. In fact we take pride in our part that helped you succeed. (Maybe we even think that you could not have done it without our invaluable help.) But you did it. You could have quit, but you did not. You did it!

Oddly enough, now the real pressure begins. People actually expect you to remember what you learned and put it to good use. Imagine that! In fact some people think that graduation is just the beginning–-the commencement-–of a much larger life long quest. What are they thinking? We of course know better. If you try to put one more fact into that already crammed full brain, it is likely to explode and that would be a real mess--facts and information all over the place. So be very careful. Avoid learning like the plague. Never pick up a book or try to think again!

Congratulations! (Because graduation is only a single event, should I be saying, “Contratulation?” See, as a college graduate you need to know these things.) And . . . there are other rewards to graduating too.

Of course there are advantages to helping even if only a little bit.

Love you tons,

Dad and Mary Lee

Spring is here!

On Valentines Day, our ornamental pear trees were in full bloom.

Last Saturday I took my camera to Sabino Canyon, located about a mile from our house. 

We have had a very wet spring (after many years of drought) and Sabino Creek is overflowing the bridges.

I was hoping to see the cardinal we had seen last week, perched in a tree right next to the road.

Sure enough, there he was again--and I was ready this time!

Then he flew across the road, so I could capture him backlit by the morning sun.

 

 A moment or two later, I spotted the deer.  It was a great day for wild life in the canyon!  

 
And a great season for wildlife in our yard.  Our cactus in the front yard bloomed several days ago.  The blossoms only last a day, and are usually at their peak during the night.  Bruce called on his way to the grocery store in the evening to let me know they were in bloom, so I ran out with the camera to get a picture.  By the next morning, all the blooms were gone.  I think the javelina stopped by during the night for a snack!  Fortunately, they will bloom several more times during the next few months.
 

Unwelcome visitors

Somehow we have gotten back on the javelina circuit. For many years they have avoided us, remembering the unpleasant shock of the encounter with our electric fence. But the fence appears to have grounded out because they now visit two or three evenings a week. They like to dig up the roots of the asparagus fern and wallow in the mud left by the drip system and the rain. One night I watched from the study window as one rolled around in the mud, as if the rain had washed him too clean and he needed a recharge.

We found them at our front door when we returned from our date at Eclectic Cafe. I grabbed the camera and Bruce grabbed a pitcher and filled it with water. He discovered several years ago that water is the only thing that javelina despise. One night we had javelina on our back porch where they had gotten into some bird seed. In an effort to frighten them away, he started the lawn mower...they continued to feed, undeterred. He poked at them with a sharp stick (through the kitchen window)...no reaction. Finally, he got one of the kids' Super Soakers and sent a jet of water their way. That did it!


When we opened the door to throw the water on them, they thought we were inviting them in for treats.


But no, Bruce chucked the water at them and they ran away grunting, leaving a trail of dirt on our front sidewalk. That's our clue in the mornings that they have stopped by again.


They actually can be quite dangerous. Recently we met a young woman who was attacked as she stepped out her front door. So if I happened to meet them on my morning walk, I wait from far away until they cross the road--a rare occurrence, fortunately.

Leather-clad Trio Frequents Local Cafe

Craig had a great approach to planning his date for me: Use the cash to pay for dinner, then guide the conversation over dinner to pick up as many remaining points as possible!

Since my favorite restaurant, Sandolo, where Dad proposed to me, is a two-and-a-half hour drive away (in Scottsdale) and also beyond our budget (likely another reason we have never been back), Craig asked me for another idea. I suggested Eclectic Cafe, which is close by and has become a favorite as of late. Craig picked up a few points when I ordered some of my favorite foods: salmon (though not as tasty as Dad's barbecued version, my real favorite) with pineapple salsa (my favorite fruit).

Craig set the standard for packing the most points into the conversation:
He asked why "When I Fall in Love" is my favorite song. I explained that it was because Dad sang it to me while we were dating, and then he sang it at a ward Valentine's party a year after we were married. We discussed my favorite sport to play, skiing, and how I used to arrange my schedule at BYU so that I could take classes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and ski on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I said I was glad I had decided to go on a mission instead of going pro on the ski patrol at Sundance like my friend did. (Okay, so maybe I shouldn't admit all that in print.)

I told Craig about how Grandpa and I got to see an ice dancing event (favorite sport to watch) at the 2002 Winter Games. Craig asked what I liked about Cry the Beloved Country (favorite book) and I explained that I was touched by the hardships and faith of the black pastor who is the main character. Craig also discovered that I like Superman because as a child I used wish that I had been adopted so that there would be a possibility that I was really from another planet and would some day develop super powers.

Every time I answered a question, Craig took great satisfaction in checking the item off his list, racking up yet more points. Finally, towards the end, I was beginning to wonder if he was even listening. "Why is Cranium your favorite game?" "I like it because there are lots of different activities, like word puzzles, and--" But before I could finish, he exclaimed, "Check! Next question...."


Dad and Craig discuss plans for our next date....

My Favorite Date

Nothing like a hot date with someone who knows your favorite things. Well, I was the lucky beneficiary of such an evening of fun and frivolity as part of a great christmas present. (Even if I do say so myself.) I mean, how else could literaly everything be my favorite? Favorite main dish, side dish, vegetable, dessert, color, you name it--it was just great.



Just think of New York cut strip steak with baked Idaho potato, butter and sour cream, fresh green beans, Fontina cheese, and homemade fresh peach pie with whipped cream while listening to soft rock music in the background. Perfect! To top it off we went to a movie (at home) and saw The Bourne Ultimatum (not my absolute favorite, but a favorite none the less).



As the final kicker, we had chocolate covered nuts, and teal colored canister shaving cream as a Happy Valentine's Day surprise. Is that wild or what? It was a continuation of our family motto: TBTI.

UGLI! (U Gotta Luv It).