You're What?

A particular son of mine was at a party at his college, deep in the mountains of Provo. He was invited there by a former mission acquaintance. Standing outside with his room mates (all of them just recently returned missionaries), they were trying to work up the nerve to go inside and dance.

Nearby, a group of young ladies, some of them returned missionaries themselves, stood outside for the same reasons.

Soon the party thrower came out and got them to all go inside and just dance in groups with each other. It seemed to work well.

Really well. One really cute blonde sidled up to this particular son of mine and behaved very flirtatiously. Said son had a really good time and it felt good to break the ice.

Afterward, outside, all parties were talking and trying to figure out who lived where and with who. Said son was coyly trying to determine how he might find cute blond in the future. The conversation went something like this:

Son: "So you live with her and you two are room mates...... Where does she live?" (pointing to blond).

Random Girl: "Oh, she lives with her husband." It was then that he looked down and noticed the rock on her hand.

The ice wasn't broken - it was shattered. Said son was sure he did something to entice a married woman.

At first, I thought she was a really bad wife, tired of being married and out for a good time with friends.

The next morning I was sure she was still a bad wife, but trying to toy with newly returned missionaries to get a reaction.

Either way - This is a big time LOSER, with the "L" on the forehead.

I hope there aren't too many of this type at this place.

Bein' Right Where I Want to Be

Isn't it amazing how an image or a sound provokes memories?

Yesterday I was driving along, happily running errands and this song came on the radio, "cold (root) beer on Friday night, a pair of jeans that fit just right", hum de dum..... because I never remember all the words.

It catapulted me back to an evening this summer; July 4, to be exact. We were riding in the boat to see fireworks and this song was blasting. It has a nice part about stars and stripes and our wonderful country and it was very fitting for the occasion.

But the memory that comes the strongest is being all together, not a care in the world, and being exactly where I wanted to be.

I love it when this happens. It helps us preserve some of life's great moments.

Saturday I was cleaning out my "drink fridge" in the garage and sitting next to it was this old warped case of water. If you look closely, you will see sand in the bottom of it.

I was taken back to boat camping at Lucky Peak on a 100 plus day. Rich called; we needed more water, water, water. So we plopped a couple of cases right there in the water at the beach to try and keep them semi cold.

And then,
Fire
Making s'mores with Cam & Eli
Fireside conversation
Sirens & helicopters
Tent conversation
Dutch oven cooking
Water skiing
Hangin' out
Cam jumping on the tube tied to the dock
Eli wearing his sun glasses as he played in the water
Bein' right where I wanted to be.

'Being where you want to be' is the reward for doing all the things we don't want to do and being where we necessarily don't want to be. There is a lot of that in day to day life.

Where are you?

Ramblin' Rose

In February, when I trim my roses, I decided to move this little beauty from the backyard to the front yard. The one that was there was struggling and not looking so good, so they basically traded places.
Did you know this about Rose bushes? You can't plant one in the same dirt where you previously had one; well you can, but it won't grow well.


When I moved this baby, she was just a mass of dried cane, like they all are when you cut them down in February. I nurtured her through the spring - nothing. Through the beginning of summer - nothing; until.....one day I noticed a few little green sprouts coming up from her root. (This is how transplanted Roses will re-surge ((in my little opinion and experience)) ).

She grew, but seemed stunted in size. The bush only got knee high (on my knee you know that's not very high). Her buds were mini and I was sure I now had a mini Rosebush. I was worried that she had gone back to her wild state; Roses tend to do this whenever they suffer any trauma. They turn into a wild, generic Rose, blooming in different colors, sizes and of lesser quality.

But I was relieved to see 6 or 7 beautiful pink blossoms return. Then she seemed to really do nothing until this week I noticed that she had grown in leaf and in blossom.

I think she is back.

And I am so happy with the outcome, I am considering relocating this one to the front next year.
And that's the end of the rambling Rose stories (for now).

Ripsnorter

ripsnorter
\RIP-SNOR-ter\
noun
: something extraordinary : humdinger

Two of my favorite ripsnorter football games of the weekend include:

BSU roasting the Oregon Ducks last Thursday. Our own Michael Ames, #54 started as a freshman after a two year mission and redshirt year. He was fantastic!

BYU all out beating Oklahoma on Saturday night. Bob Stoops was stoopified'.

Speaking of ripsnorters, isn't this a great picture of Gordon riding Buzz?

Is it just me?

Is it just me?

inflammable
\in-FLAM-uh-bul\
adjective
1 : flammable*2 : easily inflamed, excited, or angered : irascible

Or is this definition misleading?