Thursday, August 13, 2009

And the weather turned.

A slight delicious twist of a chill in the air reminds me that summer doesn't stick around.
A lone sunflower stalk bares its head above the tall weeds in the garden and the green pumpkins blush orange.
My sweater makes its way from the depths of my closet and perches on my shoulders; wrapping me in lovely, soft warmth.
The shadows vanish as the sky becomes a dome of muted purples and grays and rain begins to fall in small beads.
Hundreds of swallows stand out against the clouds as they pass over me; their beaks turned southward.
The yellow tassels on the corn stand out against the green beneath them and the gray above.
A tiny bird is perfectly framed in a diamond in the chain link fence.
The cement is darkened by puddles which make the ground look glossy and mirror the weather.
Fruit litters the ground underneath the trees and a few leaves have turned yellow and hang heavily.
The outline of the mountains is barely visible through the distant sheets of rain and a sudden rainbow arches its way around it.
The colors are more colorful in this weather somehow.
Bird and cricket noises fill the empty spaces.
Unnecessary sprinklers chatter in the neighbor's yard.
The air conditioner growls on the side of the house.
My dog speaks up and is answered by a distant friend.
The leaves rub against each other and make hissing noises.
When the rain lets up and a breeze picks up the scent of the clean, damp air, patches of dry cement creep around the edges and spread quickly.
Once the clouds move over and the mountains are lit up, traces of color can be seen where the trees must be changing.
I think summer has put in its two weeks notice.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Tractors, Tuxedos and Tootsie Rolls

Richard Dan Christofferson
Born: March 6, 1927
Died: July 29, 2009

Grandma & Grandpa - [around] 1947


Grandma & Grandpa - 1981

Grandma & Grandpa - 1999

I wish I knew how many times I sat on Grandpa Dick's knee. In the days when I fit on his lap, "Rig-a-jig-jig" was a regular operation, and picture books were read aloud to me in a deep, gravelly voice. When I got a bit older and could run around the room, he would catch me up and tickle me with his finger, saying, "You have a bone right there! And right there! And right there!" I grew up thinking that "tuxedo" was just another word for overalls because of him. To say that my Grandpa wore tuxedos almost daily is completely true. He did. It's not a perfect memory of him without a pair of overalls and a handful of tootsie rolls in the front pocket. Another thing that comes to my mind when I remember Grandpa is how he would help Grandma up and down the steps on our front porch when they'd come to visit and walk arm in arm with her to the car.

Grandpa and Sarah - 1990

When we were at Grandma and Grandpa's house he would always take us out to feed the chickens (I would hide behind his leg because I was afraid of them) or to pick raspberries in the garden. There were a select few times that Grandpa would let me ride on the tractor with him as he was tilling. I remember having milk can dinners or buttermilk pancake breakfasts in their backyard in the summer. Sometimes when we'd arrive at their house we would automatically run out to the shop in the yard to see if Grandpa was there, and he would give us butterscotch candies from a bowl on his desk. I'll never forget the sawdust-y smell of that shop. If I ever lost a tooth and he noticed, Grandpa would say, "Have you been kissing the boys again?" When we would pull away from their house in the car, he and Grandma would stand on the walkway and wave "see-bye-ya" with one hand waving backwards and forwards, and the other waving side to side.

Grandpa and Grandma - 1997

The image of Grandma Jean and Grandpa Dick sitting next to each other in their armchairs in the living room is another one I'll never forget. Many times we'd end up watching "The Lawrence Welk Show" right alongside them. I remember Grandpa asking us to play the piano for him and smiling and humming along. I remember the tears that would often come to his eyes when we'd sing to him and with him, especially if it was one of the hymns or "Home on the Range." I'll be forever grateful for his love of music.

I would have to say that my favorite part of any family reunion down at The Crick was sitting around the campfire listening to Grandpa's rendition of "Wilbur." (I'm sure I speak for most of you when I say that.) His smile and his laugh were so big that nobody who was around him could forget him.

Grandpa telling "Wilbur" - 2005

After his heart attack/stroke and after Grandma passed away, Grandpa was different, but he was definitely still Grandpa. I loved listening to the stories of his voyages to the Pacific Islands and of his work at Geneva Steel. Even though his smiles were not as frequent, I still loved to see them. In fact, the last time that I saw him, (just a few days before he died) my dad and I were saying goodbye to him and I kissed him on the cheek and told him that I loved him. He looked up at me and smiled bigger than I've seen in a long time. He couldn't speak very well, but he told me that he loved me too and watched happily as we left the room. That picture will be with me for the rest of my life.

I can only imagine how much he is smiling now; now that he doesn't ever have to be away from his Sweetheart again, now that he is free from a hindered, mortal body, now that he can help his family from the other side. I look forward to the day when I can see him again.

His funeral was so beautiful. I can't imagine a better tribute to Grandpa's life... it was full of music and the people that he loved. I'm sure he and Grandma enjoyed every minute of it. These are just a few of the pictures that I took. My favorites.

The grave site.

The pallbearers: Allen, Ryan, Rick, Mike, Dave, Jeff, Alex, Nate and Jake

Carrying the casket past the soldiers.

Taking the casket to the grave site.

Taking the flag from the casket.

A soldier presenting the flag to Aunt Vicki.

My brothers, Nate and Jake, going to put their boutonnieres on the casket.

Jake walking away from the casket.

My Grandpa Perry loved Grandpa Dick.

The beautiful casket.

A close-up.

Grandpa's wonderful kids: Kay, Diane, Joan, Tony, Vicki, Jay and Brad.
(Are you proud of me? I can finally tell the twins apart!)

My dad saying one last goodbye.

Nate... doing what he does best.

Little cousin Tiffany.

My family in front of the casket.

Kate and Becca... they look like twins!

Mom and Dad

Grandma and Grandpa's bodies and spirits are finally together.

Tootsie rolls covered the tables at the luncheon.


Thank you, Grandpa, for everything you taught us and did for us. I love you! I can't wait to see you again!

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Dear...

  • Dear estimating department, please come back soon so I can take my lunch break.
  • Dear tummy, be patient.
  • Dear Harry Potter movie, I LOVE YOU!!
  • Dear laundry hamper, why must you fill up so quickly?
  • Dear Naefi, I am excited for your mission call, but I don't know what I'll do without you!
  • Dear wild imagination, please leave me alone when I'm at work.
  • Dear piano, I miss you.
  • Dear calendar, please schedule fast days for the next six months.
  • Dear weather, could you tone it down just a bit? Mid-eighties would be just lovely.
  • Dear baggy pants, thanks for making me feel thin today.
  • Dear telephone on my desk, you have the day off, and you're welcome.
  • Dear green grass, you make a fabulous bed.
  • Dear library, I can hear you calling to me... I will visit soon.
  • Dear keyboard, stop tempting me with your simple letters and melodic clicking noises.
  • Dear facebook, GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE TO DO!
  • Dear veggies in the garden, you are beautiful to behold, hard to take care of, and wonderful to taste.

  • Dear Sister Griffin, this post was inspired by you! :)

Thursday, July 16, 2009

TONIGHT.


There's nothing like a bunch of kids in robes waving sticks around to make me happy.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Last Week at a Glance

A day off from work
and a run to DI with my sisters for a desk.
A perfect, old, wooden one
with a roll-top
like a bread box we used to have.
White paint and old clothes
and all day long
turns an old desk into a new one.

Going to see fireworks.
The only time mom will allow us to ride in the bed of the truck.
Lying down
watching the telephone lines
and the clouds
and the tops of the trees fly by.

Recruiting willing and not-so-willing people
for ward choir.
Some of us sounded lovely.

Lunchtime with dad.
Chopsticks
and a silly fortune cookie encounter.

Reassuring words
from my wonderful pen-pal in Argentina
that left a smile on my face for the rest of the day.

A fantastic new building
called a temple
full of light and the spirit
and chandeliers that take your breath away.
Twice.
Once on Tuesday.
Once on Saturday.

Staying in bed until 3:00 PM
with an upset stomach
and Screwtape Letters.

Stealing mom's car
for a date with Becca
and a yummy pork salad with guacamole.

Finding the perfect gift
in an unexpected place for a long lost friend.

Opting for the long route home from work
through the canyon
rather than taking the freeway.
Stress free
and just dazzling.

A reunion with institute and old friends
in a building
chock full of memories.

A "fishing trip" with no poles or bait or licenses
that became instead
desperate searches for friends who had no cell phone reception.
Tin foil dinner around the campfire.
Mmmm.

Making the acquaintance
of a kindred spirit
and trying not to make a fool of myself
when I couldn't find my way.

LATE arrival to a party.
I made it just in time for the good stuff.
Cheese puffs,
hot dogs
and small talk.

Crying with joy for a friend
who is more like a sister.

Card games
and star gazing on the lawn.
Batting away mosquitoes.
Heads on one another's stomachs
and trying not to laugh.

Costco lasagna at the church building
and cookies.
I was more social than usual.
It was refreshing.

Lying underneath
the tree that creates giant apricots
and another tree that won't stop making cherries.
Hidden away from everyone but my family
and that ever more present friend Happiness.
The sunset
wouldn't leave me alone
and it made me jealous of myself.

Staying up late
bugging mom and dad
with the boys.

Staying up even later after saying we'd go to bed.
Ping pong tournaments
into all hours of the night.

I won. :)

Immediate regrets
when my alarm clock buzzed this morning.
Snooze button.
5 times.

Wearing a skirt to work
just because.

Okay, maybe that's a lie.
I should probably do laundry.

And I say I have no life.
I think I should "have no life" more often.
I like being me. :)

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Me 'n' Clive

I'm going through a bit of a fixation. It happens quite often that when I discover a fresh idea (or a new restaurant, a strange word, an original film, etc.) I find it terribly intriguing and cannot leave it alone until I've had my fill of it. I am positive it becomes annoying to those who see me every day, but some things are just so lovely that it's impossible for me to resist their charm. Well, world, meet my newest fascination:

Professor Clive Staples (Jack) Lewis
Born: 29th of November 1898
Died: 22nd of November 1963

Yes, my dears, this is C.S. Lewis. Novelist, academic, medievalist, literary critic, essayist, lay theologian, Christian apologist, and genius extraordinaire. (I added that last bit, though many would concur.) He was born in Belfast, Ireland into a good, Christian home but fell into Atheism at the age of fifteen. At 33 he became, once again, a Christian and affiliated himself with the Church of England. His conversion is quite a story, but I'll use his words when he said that he came into Christianity "kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance to escape." (From his book "Surprised by Joy".)

It seems to me that prodigals' conversions tend to be the most lasting, and this is most certainly true for Mr. Lewis. You've all heard of "The Chronicles of Narnia." I grew up on these stories, most especially "The Magician's Nephew" and "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe", however I never knew how intrinsically connected they were to the teachings of Christ until more recently.

"Mere Christianity" is one of those books that I simply cannot get enough of. I honestly cannot understand how one mind of such previous disbelief could wrap itself around ideas so enormous and translate those ideas into language. Or perhaps it is the fact that he simplifies things in such a way as to completely undress human nature that is so incredible. I took a highlighter to my copy of this book, and after a few chapters decided it would be more sensible to highlight the parts that were not of any use to me. I saved a lot of ink. I did not have to highlight a single word after that. C.S. Lewis uses logic and common sense to explain how Christianity is the only plausible explanation for life or matter of any kind. Just brilliant.

Listen to this:

"... the real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it. It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in out of the wind.

"We can only do it for moments at first. But from those moments the new sort of life will be spreading though our system: because now we are letting Him work at the right part of us. It is the difference between paint, which is merely laid on the surface, and a dye or stain which soaks right through. He never talked vague, idealistic gas. When He said, 'Be perfect,' He meant it. He meant that we must go in for the full treatment. It is hard; but the sort of compromise we are all hankering after is harder--in fact, it is impossible. It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad."

Wow. Deep, huh?

Currently, I am reading "The Screwtape Letters" which is just as mind boggling as everything else C.S.L. has written. How clever to take the position of devils in order to make known our human faults and weaknesses.

Well, I won't bore you too much more with details of his life, but one other fact that I thought was awfully wonderful is that one of the people who majorly contributed to C.S. Lewis' conversion was none other than J.R.R. Tolkien, the author of "The Lord of the Rings." The two of them were collegues at Oxford College in the English faculty, and became close friends.

How cool is that??

Well, I suppose I'll end by endorsing his writings. Read them. (But only if you have loads of time to spend pouring over each sentence.) This is not light reading, in the usual sense of the phrase, however I do consider it LIGHT reading as it enlightened me more than most books do.

Oh, Clive. What a guy.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Happy Fathers Day!!

Hi everybody! Sorry I've been so absent lately. I've been quite busy since I moved home. I've been back working at Rimrock with my dad, switching back and forth from the accounting office to the estimating department to the receptionist desk. Although I'm not a big fan of waking up early, I do enjoy the time I get to spend with my dad. Because Jake and I are sort of sharing a car right now, I have to hitch a ride with my dad to get to work a lot of the time. I know he's probably tired of having to wait for me in the mornings, but I enjoy every moment I get to spend with him.

I also feel like I've gotten to know my dad better because I see him in the work environment. I've known him as my father, as my friend, as a teacher, as my bishop and now as my boss, and even after knowing him all my life, I am just barely starting to understand what kind of a person he is. Not only is he an amazingly kind, easygoing person and a hard worker, but he is so honest and just dang smart! Just yesterday I heard quite a bit of a phone conversation he had with one of his clients as we were on our way home from work, and even though this guy was being downright unreasonable and hard headed for three hours, my dad didn't blow up at him like I would have. (Patience is another virtue of his that I do not possess.)

If only there was a way that I could explain in words exactly how I feel about my dad. I guess the only thing I can compare it to is the love that I feel for my Heavenly Father. I'm beyond grateful... to the point of feeling completely indebted. How can I ever repay him? Perhaps the answer is simply: I can't.

Daddy, thanks for being there to support me...


... and thanks for always being someone I can look up to.
I love you!


HAPPY FATHERS DAY!!