Police lives matter too...

Watching the disrespect Saturday night and the havoc and peril that protesters created for police officers in Salt Lake City, I couldn't take their side in things.
Certainly the man who died in Minnesota deserved some justice and consideration.
For sure, the situation was sad and unwarranted and shouldn't happen again.
But, what does it accomplish for Salt Lake City people to go on record as lawbreakers and hooligans?
Why burn up a patrol car and ruin TRAX stations and toss rocks and scooters at each other?
What exactly does any of that accomplish?
Years ago, I had to carry a small black box with me one week of each month to keep me informed of trouble in the streets.
The police scanner was a pain because I could never fully relax.
If something wasn't going on, something was going to.
If I missed a code or failed to recognize a situation that would be a significant story, I would have to explain it to an unhappy editor.
Many times, the story developing was buried in static and something I was trying to follow, melted away into just a burst water main or a garage fire.
But often, it required I get in my car, drive to a dark address and try to get information on something that involved life and death and upset families.
Last night, Marc and I were both happy to not be involved.
Although our Spidey senses were going off, we very quickly started thanking our lucky stars that we were safely at home, watching the chaos on TV.
When people get out of control like some of them did, it's scary.
There's no telling what they will do.
The throwing rocks and bottles, the smashing of glass, the reckless destruction of cars and property, propels people to unleash anger that hurts.
Sometimes the mob mentality changes a usually decent guy or girl into a hellion.
I couldn't help wonder if the protestors forgot that police officers are people too; fathers, brothers, husbands, mothers.
Do they really want to "Kill All Pigs?" Do they understand that the police protection is the very thing that makes it possible for them to exercise their freedom to run wild?
As the police formed shoulder-to-shoulder lines to try and walk back the crowds, I was impressed with their training, their patience, their courage in the face of real and volatile danger.
I didn't see fear or loss of temper.
I was somewhat ashamed of Salt Lake City folks who look to the nation as if we are out of control and unaware that destruction costs us all.
I was glad no one died, that no one persuaded the police to directly engage to the point that more harm would be done in the name of George Floyd.
I'm also hoping this won't be repeated and if it is, I want no part of it.

Hee haw!

Being up on a horse is where he wants to be.

Serenity at last!

A cowgirl's dream...

The tiny cowgirl on the white pony (really a small mule) hollered as she came around the circle at Thanksgiving Point.
"Yee Haw!" shouted our 3-year-old granddaughter who, as far as we knew and according to her mother, had never been on a horse before.
How she knew the lingo is a mystery to all of us.
And how she stayed on was another one of our questions. We figured one of us would need to walk in the dirt beside her as the ponies went round and round.
But she didn't want any help, thank you very much.
It was just part of our day at the newly reopened Farm Country at Thanksgiving Point.
We checked out the Butterfly Biosphere first where the big plastic caterpillar was the top attraction and the scary scorpion illuminated in the dark cage didn't get out.
The three kiddos chased butterflies and marveled at the butterflies ready to burst out of their cocoons as the lady strung them on a string for display.
They liked the goats and the llamas and the big ungainly turkey and they liked feeding the animals that didn't bite.
But they HATED the slime and slobber on their hands that came with feeding the flock.
We went through a whole pack of wipes and got a lot of "yuck" expressions.
For these three grandkids the fun came in riding the wagon and climbing on the display tractor.

Loving the butterflies!

They also liked the freedom.
They live in an apartment building that's kind of out of the outside of town so space in the outdoors is a gift.
They have been stuck inside without access to play equipment, pools or climb-on stuff so mom was thrilled when we offered to come get them, ferry them over to Lehi and visit Farm Country for the afternoon.
It gave them a change of pace. It gave mom a much-needed break. And we got big grins and a Yee Haw!
What more can you ask for at the end of a pandemic.
(We're hoping it's the end!)

In your dreams...

Conner

Keslie

There are kids all around us graduating...in robes of their school colors, with caps and tassels, with pomp and ceremony.
It's all very exciting at the same time that it is very sad.
It's all virtual except for the graduate and maybe a guy in a mask handing out a diploma from the side of the setup for the photo.
This global pandemic has forced us all to do what we're used to doing differently every year.
We still give the grads a gift.
Some get leis tied with flowers folded out of money.
Some get a sort of low-key party.
I suppose somewhere, somehow, somebody gets a car.
But it's not quite the same.
It lacks the pomp and circumstance, despite our best efforts to make it memorable and real.
Former President Barack Obama gave a good speech on the MSNBC television special.
The musical numbers on the graduation show were fun and well-done.
My husband and I enjoyed the silliness, the goofy moves and the tremendous effort that must have gone into the making of the graduation special for the Class of 2020.
But there's still some honest-to-goodness heartache.
There's still some very real concern for the losses, the people who aren't alive for this milestone, the good-byes and last months that were missed.
Over the years, we've taken it for granted that our children (and grandchildren) are born, grow up, go to school and graduate to go on to a job and/or college.
It just wasn't a question as to whether or not it happened.
You just sort of made sure the kids hung in there long enough and went to enough school to take the walk.
We had kids who tested the plan, skipped class, missed the dress rehearsal, didn't turn in that last assignment or literally missed the bus.
But every one expected to have the chance to do it, to walk across a stage and hear their name read to an audience waiting in an auditorium for the magic moment.
It was a given, a rite of passage that included those who didn't really think it mattered, those who had to be dragged in to attend.
This year, it seems pretty surreal.
It matters a lot to us all.
And suddenly, we all care.
(Here's the URL if you want to see the show: https://www.msnbc.com/morning-joe/watch/-graduate-together-honors-the-class-of-2020-83504709710)

I want a patio...

We were outside sitting and swinging in our backyard when I decided to complain about my feet brushing the dirt.
Where the lawn used to be, there were now bare patches and I didn't like the feeling.
I told Marc I would like some stones or something to protect the lawn and feel better on my socks.
He sort of sighed and said he would look into it.
Ummm, 2700 lbs. and $300 later, we have a small patio where the dirt used to be.
I like it.
It feels nice and will stand up through the seasons but I had no idea that's what I was asking of him at the time.
I had envisioned maybe four or five flat rocks laid into the lawn.
He saw himself digging and dragging in bags of gravel and sand and 30 pavers.
He did a good job.

Before

He watched some YouTube videos and put on his mask to ward off Corona Virus and went to Lowe's where he bought heavy paving stones and equally heavy bags of material.
He had to move everything by hand several times, from the display to the cart, from the cart to the car, from the car to the backyard, from the backyard to the lawn (after he dug out the sod and piled it further back).
We guessed he move about 3,000 lbs. of yard goods before he finished.
He also had to measure and think things through several times, time he'd rather be spending on his bike.
I was impressed and still am.
It looks nice and makes a serious place for the swing that's been sort of hanging around without a real home for more than a year.
The grandkids like it.
Marc likes it.
And more importantly, I like it.
And I didn't even realize that is precisely what I wanted.
Thank you, dear!

Out with the old...

Rashly, a few weeks back, I told Marc he could get a new TV with his stimulus check.
There were two reasons I made this promise.
First, I didn't think there would ever be a stimulus check.
And secondly, I didn't really think he'd take me up on it.
Our current TV was working fine and it was just about as big enough as the space would allow.
It also had some quirks that made it so it required three remotes working together to get it going.
I had finally mastered the system so I could get my shows without having to call him up at work (back when he did that) or rehearsal (back when they could hold rehearsals).
I really was quite happy with the way things were and I've never been very impressed with how the different TVs broadcast their pictures.
He kept pointing out the ones at Costco that had such good pictures and I'd just keep going to the produce department.
But then, the dad gum government actually started to send out the money.
I was standing in the kitchen making lunch for grandkids when Marc started celebrating.
"I know just the one I want!' he hollered.
I realized we were committed and I even said a mild cuss word. "Grandma!, said shocked kids.
I immediately regretted my slip and Marc stopped talking about his new TV but he didn't stop measuring.
A few days later, I realized my mistake.
I owned up to the fact that one of the stimulus checks was truly his and a new TV would lift his spirits in this pandemic period.
We put on our masks and headed to Costco.
Now we have this lovely, large TV where the old, outdated cast-off used to be.
We took that one downstairs and started to figure out how to get rid of the big, boxy HD thing that preceded it.
It's a huge, heavy monster that has actually served well as a game monitor for many years.
It took Marc and my son 10 years off their lives to wrangle it up the stairs and out to the porch so some guys could haul it off for $90.
Now we have this smart, Samsung 55-inch television that walks, talks and does our taxes and laundry for us.
It's nice.
I just can't really tell the difference.

Easter funny...

Marc and I thought we were so clever.
Since we couldn't provide Easter Egg hunts in person this year to our many precious grandkids we decided to design a virtual hunt.
We found pink and purple plastic eggs that would blend in with our cherry blossoms on the backyard tree.
We strapped rubber bands around them and hung them from various branches.
We put the little fluffy Easter bunny Marc had bought me on top sort of like a star.
We carefully positioned the eggs so in a photograph they would be a little difficult to see.
Then we took a picture.
Marc wrote a sort of poem with rhyming words like "quarantining" and "preening."
We put in a challenge about finding all the Easter things for a prize.
I told the grandchild in England he only had to find all 12 things to win, basically giving away the ending before he started.
We sent every household in America with grandchildren of ours a copy.
Then we waited, thinking everyone would be impressed with our imagination and creativity.
By late afternoon, only one family had responded but they did find 10 of the 11 eggs and the bunny.
Later a second bunch sent in their findings.
One child found nine eggs.
Another pair found all 11, including the green one and gold one hidden behind the others, and the bunny.
We haven't heard much from anybody else except one who told us it was a prettily decorated tree.
It was like "good job guys!"
We apparently didn't make our intentions very clear but it was fun to put together and it took up a little of our abundant spare time.
Happy Easter all!!

P.S. Here is the poem, a literary prize:

There’s something new in our plum tree,
An Easter bunny preening.
It was a surprise that all of you could see
If you weren’t quarantining.
So make a count and let us know
What Easter items you see.
If you get it right, not too high nor too low
We’ll deliver a prize for free
The next time we’re allowed to roam,
To wander any trail,
We’ll bring it by your very own home.
Or put it in the mail.

God Save the Queen...

With a son, daughter-in-law and grandson living in Britain and having watched "The Crown" all the way through, I feel like part of me is literally English.
I still have pounds in my luggage and several British games in my game stash.
So when Queen Elizabeth came out to speak to her subjects about the current virus crisis, I sat right down to listen.
I found her compassionate and full of grace.
Her words were carefully said, logical and well chosen. 
She is so elegant.
She made me feel a little safer and I was glad that I "know" her.
As she talked about getting through this trying time and anticipating brighter days to come, I felt my heart open.
I found some peace.
I felt the same when President Russell M. Nelson talked at the end of conference. He acknowledged the situation and offered hope without pretending any of this is easy.
Being understood is huge.
Then my granddaughter, who is on a mission in Arizona, sent her weekly message.
She was so bright and happy and full of hope for the future that I felt better just having read it.
I think our future might be good hands.
It helps to know someone you love and respect is aware of your worries.