Saturday, November 15, 2003
Danny, we liked both parts I and II of Frontier House. We watched them when they originally came out on PBS.
We arrived home last night at around 11PM. It was a long flight home and we're all still trying to get over jet lag. We had a full layover day in New York City, which sounds fun, but arriving at 7AM after flying for 17 hours took the play right out of us. Ed and Val took a bus into Manhatten for awhile, but there was a stiff November wind to contend with so they came back and joined us in the Crown Room at the airport.
I felt bad about missing Howard Eckersley's funeral. I called the family tonight. They said the service was upbeat and a celebration of his life. Howard had a dry, witty sense of humor and they said it came out in the remarks his two sons made.
South Africa is an amazing country. I was struck with how young it and all of Africa is. We think the U.S. is young, and it is compared to europe. But Africa is the next frontier.
Ed served as a great guide (his driving still needs work), introducing us to metropolitan Johannesburg, Pretoria, and most notably black townships.
Some of the townships are too dangerous to visit. Crime and poverty exist in all of them, but some are worse than others. We never felt in danger or threatened. Many waved at us and all were curious at the conspicuous carload of foreigners. A highlight for us was to have dinner in the home of a family Ed baptized. The "Mama" now serves as Relief Society president in the branch. Other highlights included attending the Johannesburg Temple and church in a township.
It was heartwarming and inspiring to worship with the black saints in their small building. It was odd to be singing Christmas carols with the hot sun blazing outside. A few of the children were barefoot. The parking lot was almost empty; Ed said many walk up to a half hour to attend. As I sat in Priesthood meeting, I could hear the children in another room in the building singing "Come, Come, Ye Saints", and it brought tears to my eyes. William Clayton, who wrote it was among the first company of pioneers to head for Utah, and that hymn is a part of our pioneer heritage. But as I listened to these sweet children singing in their interesting african accented english, I realized that they are the pioneers to the black people, the foundation of a very young church that will no doubt grow and flourish and become mighty. As a 5th generation descendant of those who crossed the American plains, I was humbled to be in the presence of latter day pioneers in Africa.
After visiting the Johannesburg and Pretoria areas, we headed for Kruger National Park. What a beautiful and exciting place it is. We stayed at two different camps in the park, in clean and well kept "family cottages." The camps were our base as we set out each day to see as many animals as we could. One of the goals of many is to see the "big five" which are the lion, leopard, buffalo, rhinoceros, and elephant. We were able to see each of those, in some cases many of them, along with giraffes, zebras, monkees, implalas, waterbucks, and many wonderful birds. It is a magical land and I am grateful to have had the chance to see it.
We arrived home last night at around 11PM. It was a long flight home and we're all still trying to get over jet lag. We had a full layover day in New York City, which sounds fun, but arriving at 7AM after flying for 17 hours took the play right out of us. Ed and Val took a bus into Manhatten for awhile, but there was a stiff November wind to contend with so they came back and joined us in the Crown Room at the airport.
I felt bad about missing Howard Eckersley's funeral. I called the family tonight. They said the service was upbeat and a celebration of his life. Howard had a dry, witty sense of humor and they said it came out in the remarks his two sons made.
South Africa is an amazing country. I was struck with how young it and all of Africa is. We think the U.S. is young, and it is compared to europe. But Africa is the next frontier.
Ed served as a great guide (his driving still needs work), introducing us to metropolitan Johannesburg, Pretoria, and most notably black townships.
Some of the townships are too dangerous to visit. Crime and poverty exist in all of them, but some are worse than others. We never felt in danger or threatened. Many waved at us and all were curious at the conspicuous carload of foreigners. A highlight for us was to have dinner in the home of a family Ed baptized. The "Mama" now serves as Relief Society president in the branch. Other highlights included attending the Johannesburg Temple and church in a township.
It was heartwarming and inspiring to worship with the black saints in their small building. It was odd to be singing Christmas carols with the hot sun blazing outside. A few of the children were barefoot. The parking lot was almost empty; Ed said many walk up to a half hour to attend. As I sat in Priesthood meeting, I could hear the children in another room in the building singing "Come, Come, Ye Saints", and it brought tears to my eyes. William Clayton, who wrote it was among the first company of pioneers to head for Utah, and that hymn is a part of our pioneer heritage. But as I listened to these sweet children singing in their interesting african accented english, I realized that they are the pioneers to the black people, the foundation of a very young church that will no doubt grow and flourish and become mighty. As a 5th generation descendant of those who crossed the American plains, I was humbled to be in the presence of latter day pioneers in Africa.
After visiting the Johannesburg and Pretoria areas, we headed for Kruger National Park. What a beautiful and exciting place it is. We stayed at two different camps in the park, in clean and well kept "family cottages." The camps were our base as we set out each day to see as many animals as we could. One of the goals of many is to see the "big five" which are the lion, leopard, buffalo, rhinoceros, and elephant. We were able to see each of those, in some cases many of them, along with giraffes, zebras, monkees, implalas, waterbucks, and many wonderful birds. It is a magical land and I am grateful to have had the chance to see it.
Thursday, November 13, 2003
Dear Sam, Alison or Gerald if you are home,
Howard Eckersley died Tuesday. His funeral is tomorrow. I was going to fly up for it, but not knowing if you were back, Gerald, I decided that it would be too much of a hastle for Sam or Allison. If at all possible I would really appreciate it if one of you could represent the Carter family there. I am quite sure it will be in Sandy where they live. I don't know the time or place, but here is Connie's phone #. 944-3501. His heart just gave out..
I hope all is well with all of you and that the travelers have arrived home safe and well. Thanks so much if any of you can get there.
Love to all, Grammy
P.S. It was Gerald's birthday today. I don't know if he is glad or disappointed that he's 79--thought all day he is 80. He enjoyed your note, Gerald.
Howard Eckersley died Tuesday. His funeral is tomorrow. I was going to fly up for it, but not knowing if you were back, Gerald, I decided that it would be too much of a hastle for Sam or Allison. If at all possible I would really appreciate it if one of you could represent the Carter family there. I am quite sure it will be in Sandy where they live. I don't know the time or place, but here is Connie's phone #. 944-3501. His heart just gave out..
I hope all is well with all of you and that the travelers have arrived home safe and well. Thanks so much if any of you can get there.
Love to all, Grammy
P.S. It was Gerald's birthday today. I don't know if he is glad or disappointed that he's 79--thought all day he is 80. He enjoyed your note, Gerald.
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
Dear Katie, It's awful to be cold. You know Montpelier is a very cold place. Mother said frost would be on our quilts in the morning from our breath. Our wet diapers would also be frozen. (They didn't have such a thing as a diaper pail in those days} It was a dry coldness, though, and when we would have visitors from Idaho after we moved here they would wsay they weren't that cold in Idaho. Your Mom used to complain of the dampness here also---in winter and in summer. I remember when you lived in PA. one year she had the thermostat tuned down so low that she wore a heavy jacket in the house. I think she said she saved about $300 on the heat bill and decided that it wasn't worth being cold all the time. You kids, however didn't get a cold all winter until things warmed up back there. When you came for a visit one winter it was cold here with a very cold wind blowing and I couldn't keep coats on you. I guess your blood had really thickened up. It sounds as though Danny is enjoying his classes and I'm glad. John Gates said that he endured three years of boredom. It sounds like an interesting neighborhood. Mary has a boyfriend. She has never acted as excited over one in her life. All the primping that goes on. I guess he treats her very nice and gentlemanly, so it's nice that she has something to look forward to besides AA meetings. Don't you like my paragraphing? Well I'm going to bed. Tomorrow is your grandfather's birthday---79. Pretty good for someone who was sure that he's nevery make it to 40. He told me that he'd like to die, but he doesn't know how. I told him that he'd know how when the time comes. Then about a week ago he decided he'd starve to death. I think that lasted about one day. Seriously, he hasn't been feeling very well and you can tell by looking t him that he doesn't. Take care---Love to all and I hope to see you at Christmas time. Tommy is marring Beverly the 19th of December.
Gramma
Gramma
Friday, November 07, 2003
Dear ones, Anne finally got me back on Blogger. I received too much unsolicited help which completely removed me from all communication with you. I thoroughly enjoyed the last few Bloggs concerning canines. Shame on you Sam & Danny, although I must say that the sadist Carter humor gave me quite a chuckle. I'm closing with a poem that I cut out of the paper years ago. It touched my soul and I hope it adds food for thought for your day. Hope all is well with each of you.
"Young children use them with the hopes of adventure.The old use theirs for long happiness and love. And I use them in the respect and hope of remembrance of love and friendship. All of man is a prisoner of the wish." Dorothy Jean Hamilton Love to all, Grammy
"Young children use them with the hopes of adventure.The old use theirs for long happiness and love. And I use them in the respect and hope of remembrance of love and friendship. All of man is a prisoner of the wish." Dorothy Jean Hamilton Love to all, Grammy
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
There's nothing like being famous to yourself. I enjoy the luxury as well. I was about six when I kicked the mutt for fun. I had racquet balls stuffed in my shirt for muscles, and the little dog yelped and ran under the bed. Looking back, I was determined to kick something that couldn't tell, and Alison and Katie were already too old.
I babysat for a family that had a dog that looked like a crawling hairpiece. I saw the kids' dad whack the dog a few times with a newspaper, so I took all sorts of liberties when they were gone. That poor hairpiece couldn't do anything right.
I babysat for a family that had a dog that looked like a crawling hairpiece. I saw the kids' dad whack the dog a few times with a newspaper, so I took all sorts of liberties when they were gone. That poor hairpiece couldn't do anything right.
It is no secret that I am not a fan of dogs. I frequently make fun of them, and I even kicked a little mutt once when nobody was looking. It would stand to reason that they would not like me either, but I figured the species to be too stupid to deliberately set me up as an object of ridicule. Looking back, I realize that I had fair warning. The neighbor’s dog barked all Saturday night, finally going to sleep as I left to worship his creator Sunday morning. I did little more than grumble a few choice words in a way that I hoped would not defile the Sabbath. Swearing on Sunday is sure to land one in hot water, especially right before church. All in all, I guess I had it coming.
It started like any other Monday morning. I was so busy thinking about work, I didn’t even notice the barking on the other side of the fence. Our neighbor was leaving at the same time, and we exchanged a few meaningless comments. At that moment, a heeler came tearing around the corner, and I instantly knew he meant business. There were sticks, trash, my neighbor and hundreds of other things that dog could have bitten. As soon as I saw him, I knew I was the only thing he cared about. He was baring his teeth and snapping as he charged. He didn’t even bother to look at my neighbor. I held out my hand to offer the proverbial olive branch. Had I left it there a second longer, I would have lost it. Branch withdrawn, I planted the best kick I could in his teeth. I was wearing Birkenstocks, so the kick was entirely ineffective. I had to “pull” my kicks to keep my shoe from flying off my foot. It was a dance I would have rather witnessed than performed. The dog had me bested, and he knew it. The owner finally showed up and gained control of the crummy little beast. I waited for the apology that never came, and she left without a word. Like owner, like dog, I guess. The worst part about it was the way that dog walked off. It was clear that he was completely satisfied with how his morning was turning out. He trotted back home, tail wagging in utter satisfaction.
Today is Tuesday. I wore sturdy shoes, and I kept the ice scraper close after cleaning my car. Perhaps the neighbor saw me take a few practice swings. I heard no barking, and I saw no dogs. Apparently the taste of a dog’s victory takes longer than a day to wear off. I’m nearly positive I will be caught defenseless when it does.
For the African travelers:
If you happen to get the chance to eat dog, be open-minded, and remember that they’re not eating the well-behaved ones.
For everyone else, I send my love.
It started like any other Monday morning. I was so busy thinking about work, I didn’t even notice the barking on the other side of the fence. Our neighbor was leaving at the same time, and we exchanged a few meaningless comments. At that moment, a heeler came tearing around the corner, and I instantly knew he meant business. There were sticks, trash, my neighbor and hundreds of other things that dog could have bitten. As soon as I saw him, I knew I was the only thing he cared about. He was baring his teeth and snapping as he charged. He didn’t even bother to look at my neighbor. I held out my hand to offer the proverbial olive branch. Had I left it there a second longer, I would have lost it. Branch withdrawn, I planted the best kick I could in his teeth. I was wearing Birkenstocks, so the kick was entirely ineffective. I had to “pull” my kicks to keep my shoe from flying off my foot. It was a dance I would have rather witnessed than performed. The dog had me bested, and he knew it. The owner finally showed up and gained control of the crummy little beast. I waited for the apology that never came, and she left without a word. Like owner, like dog, I guess. The worst part about it was the way that dog walked off. It was clear that he was completely satisfied with how his morning was turning out. He trotted back home, tail wagging in utter satisfaction.
Today is Tuesday. I wore sturdy shoes, and I kept the ice scraper close after cleaning my car. Perhaps the neighbor saw me take a few practice swings. I heard no barking, and I saw no dogs. Apparently the taste of a dog’s victory takes longer than a day to wear off. I’m nearly positive I will be caught defenseless when it does.
For the African travelers:
If you happen to get the chance to eat dog, be open-minded, and remember that they’re not eating the well-behaved ones.
For everyone else, I send my love.
Sunday, November 02, 2003
oops! Her new AOL address is : loieatdelmar1@aol.com. Thanks!! Have a SUPER trip!! And make sure to enjoy all 24 hours of that flight!! Grammy wants me to tell you not to buy her a tanzinite because she already bought one yesterday. "But if you can fin a cute neclace with the animals carved on it, I'd love that!"
Saturday, November 01, 2003
Friday, October 31, 2003
Would one of you California bloggers please stop by and help Grandma get in to AOL? She called here for help, but since I don't use AOL (I wasn't here when she called), I doubt I could be of much help.
I stumbled on the following from Ed Abbey's Desert Solitare today. I read the book when I was about Sam's age and loved it. Abbey spent three seasons in Arches (before it became Arches) National Park, living in a trailer as a ranger, and wrote about his time there. By the time I read the book, I'd already spent a month of my life living primitively in the same area and developed a lifelong attachment to it's unique beauty and solitude. Re-reading this reminded me of why I love it there.
"What is it about the desert that distinguishes it from other landscapes? Is it the color, the grandeur, the spaciousness? Is it the silence, the simple clarity? Or is it the veil of mystery, the sense of something unknown, unknowable? The desert seems to be waiting---but for what? There is something about the desert that the human mind cannot assimilate. The best artists and writers have failed to capture it....Under the vulture-haunted sky, the desert waits---mesa, butte, canyon, reef, sink, escarpment, pinnacle, maze, dry lake, sand dune, and barren mountain. Even after years of contact.... this quality of strangeness in the desert remians undiminished."
"One can see, then, why 26 year old Everett Reuss, the author of On Desert Trails, disappeared into the canyon country of Southern Utah, never to return. Although living in cities has its advantages, and I do fine there, however, once I catch a whiff of juniper smoke, or a careless word or poem calls the desert to mind, I become as restless as a wolf in a cage."
On Monday, Cristie, Valerie, Ed, David and I are heading to a very different desert from those I'm used to. Stay tuned.
I stumbled on the following from Ed Abbey's Desert Solitare today. I read the book when I was about Sam's age and loved it. Abbey spent three seasons in Arches (before it became Arches) National Park, living in a trailer as a ranger, and wrote about his time there. By the time I read the book, I'd already spent a month of my life living primitively in the same area and developed a lifelong attachment to it's unique beauty and solitude. Re-reading this reminded me of why I love it there.
"What is it about the desert that distinguishes it from other landscapes? Is it the color, the grandeur, the spaciousness? Is it the silence, the simple clarity? Or is it the veil of mystery, the sense of something unknown, unknowable? The desert seems to be waiting---but for what? There is something about the desert that the human mind cannot assimilate. The best artists and writers have failed to capture it....Under the vulture-haunted sky, the desert waits---mesa, butte, canyon, reef, sink, escarpment, pinnacle, maze, dry lake, sand dune, and barren mountain. Even after years of contact.... this quality of strangeness in the desert remians undiminished."
"One can see, then, why 26 year old Everett Reuss, the author of On Desert Trails, disappeared into the canyon country of Southern Utah, never to return. Although living in cities has its advantages, and I do fine there, however, once I catch a whiff of juniper smoke, or a careless word or poem calls the desert to mind, I become as restless as a wolf in a cage."
On Monday, Cristie, Valerie, Ed, David and I are heading to a very different desert from those I'm used to. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, October 28, 2003
For all the Carter siblings, here is the list for Christmas this year. I just rotated the list from last year so that everyone would be giving to someone different this year. If you all want, I will continue to keep track and rotate it every year.
Sam gives to Dan
Melissa gives to Elizabeth
Alison gives to David
Doug gives to Valerie
Katie gives to Ed
Dan gives to Ali
Ed gives to Katie
Valerie gives to Joe
Laurel gives to Sam
David gives to Laurel
Joe gives to Melissa
Elizabeth gives to Doug
Let me know if this works okay for everyone!
Happy Day to you all!
Sam gives to Dan
Melissa gives to Elizabeth
Alison gives to David
Doug gives to Valerie
Katie gives to Ed
Dan gives to Ali
Ed gives to Katie
Valerie gives to Joe
Laurel gives to Sam
David gives to Laurel
Joe gives to Melissa
Elizabeth gives to Doug
Let me know if this works okay for everyone!
Happy Day to you all!
Thursday, October 23, 2003
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR EDDIE. It was almost the end of the day and very blustery and cold in Lansdale Pennsylvania. I was vacuuming and needing to pause every now and then just to get through the contractions. You were due about a week earlier so I was good and ready to welcome you into our family. Angie had been with us about a week so it was almost time for her to go home...and still no baby. Well, at 11:35 you made your grand entrance and all of our lives will never be the same...only better. Happy Birthday dear boy and know that you are loved. mom
Saturday, October 18, 2003
For a guy that claims complete neutrality in matters concerning organized sports, I have sure spent my fair share of time watching the teams I'd like to support blow it. Now that the Cubbies and Red Sox are gone, my baseball season is more or less over. I guess I should be happy that the Cubs didn't stink this year like most other years.
www.firecrowton.com is great. I got on there and entered a bogus name and email address, and made all sorts of senseless comparisons and allegations in my bid for Crowton's removal. Of course I don't know what I'm talking about, but maybe someone will start a petition, and just maybe we'll have another fun-filled recall election. If it comes to that, I'll be voting for Robert Redford as BYU's new Head Coach. At least Bob votes.
* * *
Color is slow to leave the mountains in October this year. Olympus was fire this morning as sunlight lit its ridges from the south. The day framed the essence of fall, and I needed to wet a line. Dad and I found the Provo alive as the memories that seem to live there, and we fished along the cabins. I caught two rainbows and a brown. All were healthy, and all were beautiful. Only a breath ago, I caught my first Provo brown this time of year in 1994. The date was September 14. Exactly one week before I left for the MTC. I thumped him on the head and wrapped him in grass. That evening, I cooked him on a grill at a cabin at Sundance. DK, DJ and a bunch of girls watched as I ate every last bite. I offered to share, but there seemed to be something wrong with eating something with its head still attached. The white eyeballs didn't help either. I remember how that trout tasted for some reason. I wonder now if it was really the taste of a great childhood about to end.
Dad caught two fish, and we both had an unfortunate encounter with a jerk. All in all, it was about as good as it gets on a Saturday on the Provo. I'm sure the other guy is writing about his encounter with two jerks, so I can rest at ease knowing that my day was better than his.
Twas one day in seven. Five others are still being spent at QSI. Just two weeks ago, the new dog took a dump right outside my door. She's a chocolate lab, and she didn't even have the decency to keep it in one place. Makes me wonder what's so darned important that causes an animal to deficate on the run. The negative air pressure in my office sucked the stench in and held it hostage for about an hour. If there is an animal with less self respect than a dog, tell me about it, but keep it at bay. I believe more than ever that there will be plenty of dogs in hell.
Well, back to Perry Mason with Eddie. He says it's a "great show," and I'm curious to find out how he came up with that.
S
www.firecrowton.com is great. I got on there and entered a bogus name and email address, and made all sorts of senseless comparisons and allegations in my bid for Crowton's removal. Of course I don't know what I'm talking about, but maybe someone will start a petition, and just maybe we'll have another fun-filled recall election. If it comes to that, I'll be voting for Robert Redford as BYU's new Head Coach. At least Bob votes.
* * *
Color is slow to leave the mountains in October this year. Olympus was fire this morning as sunlight lit its ridges from the south. The day framed the essence of fall, and I needed to wet a line. Dad and I found the Provo alive as the memories that seem to live there, and we fished along the cabins. I caught two rainbows and a brown. All were healthy, and all were beautiful. Only a breath ago, I caught my first Provo brown this time of year in 1994. The date was September 14. Exactly one week before I left for the MTC. I thumped him on the head and wrapped him in grass. That evening, I cooked him on a grill at a cabin at Sundance. DK, DJ and a bunch of girls watched as I ate every last bite. I offered to share, but there seemed to be something wrong with eating something with its head still attached. The white eyeballs didn't help either. I remember how that trout tasted for some reason. I wonder now if it was really the taste of a great childhood about to end.
Dad caught two fish, and we both had an unfortunate encounter with a jerk. All in all, it was about as good as it gets on a Saturday on the Provo. I'm sure the other guy is writing about his encounter with two jerks, so I can rest at ease knowing that my day was better than his.
Twas one day in seven. Five others are still being spent at QSI. Just two weeks ago, the new dog took a dump right outside my door. She's a chocolate lab, and she didn't even have the decency to keep it in one place. Makes me wonder what's so darned important that causes an animal to deficate on the run. The negative air pressure in my office sucked the stench in and held it hostage for about an hour. If there is an animal with less self respect than a dog, tell me about it, but keep it at bay. I believe more than ever that there will be plenty of dogs in hell.
Well, back to Perry Mason with Eddie. He says it's a "great show," and I'm curious to find out how he came up with that.
S
Thursday, October 16, 2003
When Pedro Martinez walked off the mound in the eighth inning with the game tied, I knew the Red Sox were going to lose. There went the best pitcher in baseball, succumbing like so many Red Sox who have gone before to the Curse of the Great Bambino, this time in the very House that Ruth Built. What a game.
Visited with my Dad (and mom) tonight. Had many laughs with my Dad and hopefully cheered him up a little. It's good I got there when I did. My mother was feeding him dinner, and had that irritated look on her face. She was mad at him for leaning over too far, making it difficult for her to feed him (he winked at me once as he did it). He said she had just threatened to walk out of there and go home unless he stopped it. He didn't stop, and she didn't go home.
Visited with my Dad (and mom) tonight. Had many laughs with my Dad and hopefully cheered him up a little. It's good I got there when I did. My mother was feeding him dinner, and had that irritated look on her face. She was mad at him for leaning over too far, making it difficult for her to feed him (he winked at me once as he did it). He said she had just threatened to walk out of there and go home unless he stopped it. He didn't stop, and she didn't go home.
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