A Beautiful Sunday

After the rains cleared and the temperatures rose above 50 degrees, Larry and I decided to leave the den and venture out into the sun filled day.
We headed east up through some of our favorite neighborhoods. With the sun warming our skin and the fresh, cool, crisp air filling our lungs, we made our way up the foothills and found our way to my Aunt's house. We stopped and chatted with my Aunt and Uncle. Most importantly, Larry got to play with his favorite dog, Chester......









































After play time was over, we decided to stop by a roadside cafe for a late breakfast. "Eggs in the City" is a pretty popular Sunday morning eatery, so the 1/2 hour wait just gave us an excuse to play with the camera.
















After some fabulous french toast and Eggs Benny, we head back home. Along the way I stopped to take a picture of the street. I just thought it looked neat at the time.

September

My love for Aldo Leopold and his writings is the purpose of this post. As a granddaughter of a life long farmer, I find a kinship in Leopold. As a teacher, I find his writings insightful. As a hope to be future naturalist, I find his words inspiring.

In a Sand County Almanac, he chronicles his farm month by month. Since autumn has made its presence known, at least here in the Rockies, here is an excerpt from September:

There is peculiar virtue in the music of elusive birds. Songsters that sing from top-most boughs are easily seen and as easily forgotten; they have the mediocrity of the obvious. What one remembers is the invisible hermit thrush pouring silver chords from impenetrable shadows; the soaring crane trumpeting from behind a cloud; the prairie chicken booming from the mists of nowhere; the quail's Ave Maria in the hush of dawn. - A Sand County Almanac

Can God be found in a bag of Pears?

This evening, having just returned from a nice walk around the neighborhood, an older gentlemen and his little chubby dog came walking up to our front porch.

This man has been living just a few doors down for about 3 months now. He lives with his daughter and her husband, his clothes are a least 2 sizes too large, his dog's body collar is at least 2 sizes too small (too many scraps under the table). He walks his dog a few times a day, but limits the walk to about 5 or 6 houses. His shoes barely make it off the ground, thereby scuffing his shoes all the way up and down the street.

If I'm outside, and I see him walk by, I say hello but can't get much more across to him because he is hard of hearing and his little dog likes everyone on the street to know of his presence by loud, yappy, barking.
We usually have this encounter at least once a week. Today, however, ended a little differently.

As he made his way back down the street, he walked up to the porch, and asked if we go to a church. My initial response was a learned response from my days living in the Bible Belt of the South when people would pull over on the side of the road and ask me if Jesus Christ is my Savior: "I don't know you, you don't know me, therefore my personal private relationships are non of your business."

I looked at the little old man and his yelping dog under his feet, and realized that he wasn't intentionally trying to offend me. "No," I said. "For very personal reasons." I said this hoping that the word "personal" would give him the respectful out. Unfortunately this retired Baptist preacher was not about to allow that to be the end of the conversation. "If you go to bed tonight, are you ready to die?" " Will you go to heaven?" WHAT??? Does this guy know something I don't? Has he set some explosives in my backyard or what?

Now I have a real problem with people just walking up to another, usually a complete stranger, asking questions regarding some of the most personal and private matters a human being has. To me its like walking up to a complete stranger and asking, "When you go to bed tonight will you wake up sexually fulfilled?" Most people would look at me like I was crazy, tell me to bleep myself, and possibly smack me across my face. Why? Because its non of my business. Then why is it okay to ask such questions regarding God, salvation, and religion? Do people feel this insatiable need to bugger themselves into others lives? Do they get some sort of high from feeling morally superior because they already know the answers to their own 20 questions? Or do they really feel that they are in some way trying to spread the Word?

I looked at this man barely able to stand, and saw that he truly felt that he was trying to share his love of God. He seemed a caring and thoughtful man, but I felt a bit stonewalled. Generally, this brings out the defensive in me. Although I felt his attempt was a bit misguided, it appeared that he was honest in his request. "Thank you for your concern, but I am very happy where I am," I politely replied. He offered to take us to church with him, I declined. He slowly turned away, little chubster still yapping at me, and began his journey back down to his house. I felt like I wanted to reach out to him, but words had left me.

Part of me feels bad that that was the first real conversation we had. How will this taint future discussions? Will there be future discussions? Will there be this large brick wall we will have to look through in order to share words again, or just a big elephant?

Maybe I will offer a bag of recently picked pears to him. Nothing like sweet, fresh, juicy pears to get conversation going. After all, God is in the details. God can be found in a bag a pears, can't He?

Summer has left the building

Autumn has arrived with a vengeance. Its seems (and really was) just 90 degrees last week. I will be surprised if we hit 50 degrees today. Its not that I don't like the cooler weather, I actually prefer it, but it seems like a 40 degree drop in just a matter of weeks is a little extreme. I wonder if there will be any fall colors this year with the mountains already receiving snow?

I guess I better get to the mountains now. Look forward to what I hope are decent pics of fall foliage in the coming days.

For now though, I just have to add these......

Larry looks a bit tired here, i think he just woke up, but Zoey appears quite comfy.

I'll be the first to admit...I go a little nutty when it comes to my animals. Not dress them up in outfits nutty, but a little nutty with the toys and camera......and the treats......and the kitty condos...and the.......kidding (not really!)

Aspens

Another day at the meat processing plant.

Just a little blog filler for the day.

This morning I spent as I usually do on Wednesdays , at St. Marks Hospital volunteering in the Recovery Unit, or what I refer to as the "chop shop." If you ever really thought that medicine is not a money machine, then you are about as naive as I was when I started there 7 months ago. The patients come in post op, get off their anesthesia, get injected with multiple medications, and are carted off to other areas of the hospital. Visualize a rotating belt normally seen in factories, but instead of dead chickens or computer parts, visualize cousin Mary who just had a hysterectomy, Aunty Margie just had her L5-6 fused, and Grampa Joe who has just had his gall bladder ripped out. After about 45 minutes in recovery they are off to the races to the next level of over priced "care."

Do I sound bitter? To be honest, I like most of the nurses and the orderlies. Generally there is a sense of appreciation for my time spent there. HOWEVER.......there are some very special doctors, or surgeons that feel that all human beings are subject to their will and every demand.

Today, a doctor of the female persuasion came swaggering into the recovery area with some serious attitude. She marched up to the desk (where I sit managing phone calls, room reservations, and family notification.....yah the hospital's to damn cheap to actually pay someone to do this job. It can be extremely chaotic sometimes.) and demanded to see the family of her patients.

Problem A. I have no idea who the bleep this Beeotch is. So I very professionally ask her name. She looked at me like I had cut open her jugular. My name is Dr. Princess (a name I later found amusingly placed on her by the staff) !

Problem B. Generally, doctors come out of surgery with their patients, this is when I am informed that they are coming to recovery. This chicky doodle comes out a full hour ahead of schedule because her part of the surgery is over. Not really a problem, but a little out of the ordinary. Since I am only there 1 day a week for 4 hours, it was new to me.

I had to spend the time to locate her patient, and then call the front desk to inform them that Dr. Princess wants a conference room STAT! Meanwhile, in complete disgust at my lack of ability to read minds and the future, little Missy stands over me tapping her feet! You have got to be kidding me!!!

Apparently this individual cannot read the "volunteer" label on my bright green volunteer jacket. Once I got off the phone, I looked at her and said "okay, they will have a room for you when one comes available." I looked back down to my work. "What room will it be?" she said with contention. "I don't know since there isn't one currently available." Apparently I am unaware she is the only doctor in the hospital. She flips her head and swaggers back out with total disgust, saying something under her breath.
As she departed, I thought to myself "thank god she isn't my doctor."

I originally started volunteering for selfish reasons. I was considering a transition from teaching into medicine. I will say 95% of the time, everyone is very respectful, but it is the system as a whole that leads one to believe that this is no different than spending your day in some manufacturing plant or fortune 500 corporation. At the end of the day, its all about the money.
The thing that disgusts me most is that these are people, sick people who have had major surgery, and it just doesn't sit well with me to have so little time and concern over their well being. I think it says it all that my patient list; which has the surgery info and doctor name, lists their insurance company information right next to the patient's name. Someday they will just skip the name all together and just put account number in its place.

Opa!!!

This weekend was the Greek Festival at the Holy Trinity Cathedral in downtown SLC.
It was a madhouse, but a good time was had by all. We decided to go early on Friday to beat the crowds. At 4:30 the lines were only a half hour long. By the time we got our food and sat down, the line exceeded an hour wait! I love Greek food, but even I wouldn't wait that long for some Dolmathes and a Gyro.
After eating and watching the dancers, we visited the newly restored Cathedral. They did a fabulous job on the restoration. We were able to catch a short service and choir performance. Afterwards we filled up on the many pastries.

Saturday evening we went to the University of Utah game. Unfortunately I forgot my camera and was unable to take any pictures of the stadium, game, or scenic backdrop. The photos here are from the teams website.
Larry loves his alumni and loves following Utah sports. So we often find ourselves at games. This weekend was the first home game of the season. The Utes creamed N. Arizona 45-7. I enjoy football, but I found myself spending more time watching the people around me than paying attention to the game. For instance right next to us was a bunch of kids (in their 20s but acting 16) loading up their Coke's with rum. By the 4th quarter it was getting really interesting.

Sitting right in front of us was Mr. and Mrs Uppity Snuppity. They showed up with their matching fold away seat (we are in bleachers - cheap seats), matching sweatshirts, jackets, and blankets. Apparently they were expecting a deep freeze while there. I new I was in trouble when they pulled out their trail mix and dried bananas for their snack while Larry and I scarfed down hamburgers and Kettle corn. The male in the couple had a tizzy because when I stood up in excitement (imagine that happening at a football game!) as my foot every so slightly brushed against his lovely little port-a-seat. It appears that they are also season ticket holders. I told Larry he gets to sit behind him next time.

We finished off the weekend with a nice autumnish 6-mile hike at City Creek. Again, I forgot the camera. I was going to snap some photos of the newly changing colors. Some of the maples and scrub oak are already turning red. I will hope to remember my camera next time I am there, but for the time being I have found a website that has some nice photos. Check it out. http://travel.webshots.com/album/488975568VqMpeP

Being Home

Now that I have nearly crossed over the 2 year mark of my return to the land of Zion, I wanted to sit back and reflect on the experiences that have come my way.

When I chose to come back to the town of my roots, I did so not wanting to "come home." I knew that the home I once new was no more. I wanted to come back to Utah and to Salt Lake to start new but in a familiar place. I wanted to make my own home, my own space within the comfortable arms of the Wasatch mountains. I was fully aware it wouldn't be easy. There is a different mind set here, parts of which I subscribe to, others that I vehemently do not, but that can be found in most any community. I can honestly say that I am home, my home.

That all being said, I have noticed some strange idiosyncrasies, most of which I had forgotten over the 14 years I was gone.

Fry Sauce - This lovely concoction is a staple in the fast food diet. My first reminder of this dish was at a Greek shop downtown when I was asked "would you like fry sauce for an extra $.35." I stared into space and then started to laugh as I said yes. I had completely forgotten about this ketchup-Mayo mix. Nothing like adding a little fat to those lean mean French fries.

Some of the most annoying, stupid jingles on the radio I have ever heard. If I have to listen to the Arnie impersonation for Gold's Gym, or the Low Book Sales jingle one more time, I will scream!

Young mother's syndrome- The other day I happened to be walking around a park close to my home when coming towards me was what could only be called NASCAR via stroller. As these mom's blew by me (some with double wide's), I was shocked to see that everyone was at least 10 years my junior. People start procreating at a very young age here, at least compared to the rest of the nation. This craze in child rearing seems to cross all cultural, economic, and religious lines. I figure it is something they are adding to the water system so they can keep the marketing mantra for Utah as "Family Friendly."

Big, thick, cluncky shoes. Many of the younger girls wear these massive shoes. I am not sure if this is isolated to just this area, but they look like an attempt at high heels while still maintaining the "flat" appearance. All I can say is I hope the U is producing more podiatrists for the future.

Love of 80s music. Now this is one that I like. Just yesterday I heard The Cure, Depeche Mode, The Smiths, and Yaz while running to the grocery store. Tonight returning from the airport I heard Alphaville. How many radio stations out there play that group anymore? I have to say that I am getting a little sick of the Violent Fems.

Haunted Houses. Little did I know when I left here many years ago that most of the rest of the human race didn't go to level of celebrating Halloween the way they do here. I really like it, always have. The houses are open from September until the first of November for all your freakish fun requirements.

The liquor laws......well not much needed to say about this. There have been improvements made (I can have a glass of wine with dinner now), but it still has its irksome quirks.

A linguist I met in Morocco said she could tell there was an accent when I spoke, but couldn't detect what it was. Utahns actually have their own dialect (a study came out just after I moved back). That's why I say pellow rather than pillow.

Sadly, only about 10% of Utahns actually go out and enjoy the beautiful nature that surrounds them.

There are only two general groups of people living in Utah. This line is drawn with church membership. Better said, if you're Jewish, Catholic, Lutheran, Hindu, or Atheist you are a member of the church of "Non Mormon." If you are a member, even if you aren't really practicing or even believe in the teachings, you are Mormon. That's it! Unfortunately, this religious line is also generally a political one. However, I have heard in the underground networks that there is a small ripple of LDS that are burning their republican card memberships. Shhhh.
(* These statements are my observations and opinions. Don't leave an annonoymous comment of "Mormon Hater." The above mentioned observations are less to do with LDS doctrine and more to do with cultural dynamics of power.)

There is nothing like RCWilley's Weekend Sales! As an added bonus with that lovely sofa or dinette set, come in for the free Hot Dogs!

That's all I can think of right now. Its time to call it a day.

Just another day....

Today is a bit drizzly. I had hoped to get out into the mountains, but I am not so sure that is going to happen today. I suppose I will head down to the library to check out my next "book of the month" installment.
Hopefully my next writing will be a little more interesting.