Tunk Washburn Family

Nampa Washburn Reunion

2015-08-05T13:33:00.000-07:00

July 2015

Reunion Highlights:

Everyone made delicious food! -Thanks for all those egg mic muffins Mom!
Floating Indian Creek- Dad and I nearly passed out from blowing up all the tubes :)
Shooting at the shooting range- Colter and Ellie shot too!
Water fight in the backyard- Logan,Tannner and Chy vs. Colter, Ben, Ellie and Olivia.
Tev's birthday- Mom's cheesecake
Family meeting on the 4th: Dad talked about the importance of keeping the Sabbath Day holy, Mom spoke on America being a covenant land and the consequences of breaking that covenant.
Singing hymns: America the beautiful, Battle Hymn of the Republice, My Country Tis of Thee, The Star-spangled banner.
Sparklers for the kids in the backyard
Lorelai's baby blessing- newest member of the family!

Trav's Birthday

2015-08-05T13:04:00.001-07:00

Thought I'd post this, seems we are way behind on posting. We had a fun time at Trav's apartment in Provo for his birthday! Sioux made delicious burgers with fried onions and beacon. I made peach and apple pie. Coming from Rexburg there just aren't many shopping options. Here in Salt Lake I've found a whole new world of options. Mainly in the food department :). Rancho Markets is probably my favorite, I bought 3 bags of peaches, some bananas, avocados and apples all for eight dollars and everything was in good condition! The big city has its benefits!

Happy Birthday Trav!

Mother's Birthday Party

2015-01-28T20:19:00.001-08:00

January 26th Monday

January 27th is my Mother's birthday, Jean Haag Pearce. If she were still living she would be 94 years old. I threw a party for her and invited my siblings. Dale/Laurie, Monty, Parley/Vicky, Beau/Phil, Melodee/Hans, Brian/Susan all came with their spouses, except for Merry she was in St. George. We started with a dinner of salmon steaks and a salad bar, with baked potatoes and raspberry muffins. After dinner we gathered in the living room to hold family home evening. I asked Parley to conduct the meeting the same way Dad did when we were growing up. We started with singing, "Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel" and then he asked Uncle Brian to give the opening prayer. He asked if there was any "old or new business". We talked about the minutes Mother kept of each family home evening. Some of the children would bring up issues, like quoting Parley, "Beau won't mind me and I think you should make her mind." Parley also mentioned that dad swore and what were they going to do about that.
We laughed and laughed at the stories Parley told. Monty chimed in with a few more details and also verified the truthfulness of the stories. Most of them were of the warfare that they engaged in with the other kids in the area where they lived. They told of Dad roping a clown at the rodeo and pulling his pants off. Also of Dad wrestling a bear at the fair and winning a large sum of money.
We read the memories that Duke, Dixie, and Bunny sent. We all commented on what they wrote, it was interesting to hear what everyone had to say and what they felt and remembered about our Mother. We passed out the CD's of Mothers journals, Tev and Jill had scanned in all of her journals and organized them on CD for everyone to have a copy.
We finally ended "family hour" at 11:30 and went back to the table to eat cake and ice cream. At 12:30 I went in by the computer and to my surprise Jackson was still up. I said what are you doing still up? He replied there have been too many good stories to listen to.
Phil lamented that he had to be to work in 7 hours and they needed to head home. All were on their way home by 1:30 am. I think it was a successful party!

January 27th Tuesday
Jackson had a basket ball game at Notus. I told him before he left to the game to score 12 points. We he never listens to me and he scored 18 points. I think that is a family record!!
He played really well it was a fun close game.

2014-09-26T11:35:00.000-07:00

26 September 2014 Friday.
Its a pretty autumn morning. Over the last few months Bruce has aged rapidly. His right front shoulder has become painful so he could hardly put weight on it. The last 4 days he has lost that sparkle in his eye, like life was getting unbearable. I called Dr. John Calhoun asking him if he would make a house call. He said sure, he would come Friday morning 8:15.
Dr. Calhoun arriving right on time. He came to the back gate when Bruce saw him he got up wagging his tail to greet him. I was surprised that Bruce even got up to greet him, but Bruce is polite greeted him with a tail wagging. Bruce knows Dr. Calhoun. After examining Bruce he said he has a large tumor on his shoulder and that the cancer has probably spread to other areas of his body. We could buy Bruce another 4 to 5 weeks by putting him on pain meds. The pain is a constant throbbing. I told him to proceed with putting him to sleep, that he had suffered long enough. Bruce was always cheerful and "happy to see you." Dr. Calhoun went to his car to get the medication. We had Bruce lay on a 4 inch foam pad with that big colorful blanket. Dr. injected a serum that put Bruce to sleep and mixed with potassium to stop his heart. Dad knelt down beside Bruce scratching him, Bruce went to sleep peacefully, Doc Calhoun checked his pulse, he was gone. Bruce had that big "love that scratching, its time for a nap," look on his face.

After Doc. Calhoun left Dad and I lifted Bruce into the wheel barrow wrapped in the colorful blanket. Dad wheeled him down to the pasture under the willow tree and parked him next to the deep hole that Jeffery dug for me with his backhoe. We lowered him down and Dad put a thin layer of dirt over him. Jeffery will be back this afternoon to back fill. Dad told me to get a head stone to mark Bruce's spot.

Its pretty quiet around here today. I go outside and it does feel different knowing I am here completely alone. I always felt there was someone here with Bruce around to help me if I needed it.
He was a good dog that we all connected with. He had that kind loving personality, he was patient. I would see him put up with a puppy tugging or crawling over him and Rosie wanting to wrestle but he never lost his temper. I have seen many male dogs not put up with that for a second, they would growl or tie into the puppy.
I am sure he's having fun seeing Nana, they were such good buddies.

How to find the Jump Creek Stone Face

2013-09-21T10:31:00.002-07:00

INSTRUCTIONS

To find the stone face, head up Jump Creek (southward, upstream). Climb up past the big falls and the jump point. Continue in quite a ways till the creek makes a horseshoe turn (the arch of which points west). Not too far after that horseshoe is complete, the rocks on the RIGHT will start to be less jagged and more smooth. You're looking for two round holes in the rock. They're the eyes, up above your head.

As another landmark, which is hard to see if the tree leaves are thick, on the left side of the canyon is a longer rock that stands out alone, part of the steep wall face that has been cut off, isolated to form a pillar. Up next to that lone-thumb pillar (on the south side of it) is the best place to view the face.

The Washburn Sense of Humor

2013-07-16T11:45:00.000-07:00

Chy, you inspired me to post again!

Going back to Page was pretty sweet. Dad told us the story of when some Hollywood bigshots came to town and announced they needed lizards for a movie and would give rewards to kids who brought them lizards. Sounds like a dream for a little kid. He also told us how when he was a kid he was chucking rocks off the cliff in Giffords’ back yard, and he slipped, tumbled down the cliff, and woke up inside a while later. Finally, he told us the story of when he (and Andy?), as pretty little kids, hiked down the canal and under the tunnel under the highway to the canyon’s edge—Grandpa tanned their hides for that one.

It was an awesome reunion. For me, one of my favorite things is the jokes. I love the Washburn sense of humor. Here are a few moments I didn’t want to forget:

I was sitting under a tent out of the sun on a beach chair next to Jay and Andy. And here came Big Jeffers walking by, with his shirt off, and noticeably a little chubbier than he was a few months ago. So Andy leaned toward Jay and slyly said, “Your son’s starting to get that married look.”

Dad and Mom didn’t love being sandy and sweaty and hot all day long on the first day, so they second day they weren’t too eager to go back to the lake—not when the alternative was the peace and quiet and air conditioning of the beach house in Greenhaven. I did a photoshoot with Uncle Ted that morning. Then we went on the Hummer Adventure with Otis. Then Mom and Dad drove around Page with me while I tried to find some people I’d worked with on my mission. This made for a long day, but I was excited to get back to the lake, even if it was only for the last hour and half before the sun went down and everyone came in. Mom said, “I’m not sure it’s worth it to go out there for just a hour or so.” And Dad said, “Yeah, if I’m going to suffer, I’m going to suffer for longer than that.”

Uncle Ted, Otis, and Moze picked me up at the Greenhaven gas station at 4:15am on the morning of the second day. Then we drove on dirt roads for about an hour to get to Alstrom Point, which is a cliff high above Lake Powell on the north side. And there we took photos as the sun came up. It was pretty sweet (worth being that tired for, I think). On the way back, Moze was telling Ted about how there was a dispute over some reservation land between the Hopis and Navajo. When Moze said the Hopis finally took the land back, Ted rolled his eyes and said, “Indian givers.”

Little Jeffers, who’s now bigger than me by an inch and about two pounds, challenged me to a race across the bay. We took off swimming, and I gave it all I had. But he still beat me by about a yard or two. As I stood dripping on a rock on the far side, hunched over and panting, I teased him with a quote from the movie Gattaca, which has a scene where two brothers swim out into the ocean: I said, “Jeffers, you know how I almost beat you?—It’s because I didn’t save any strength for the swim back.” And Jeffers said, “You know how I beat you?—It’s because I couldn’t stop thinking of the movie Jaws.”

Lake Powell June 2013 Washburn Family Reunion

2013-07-15T17:53:00.000-07:00

DC Adventure

2012-12-03T22:21:00.002-08:00

View DC Adventure in a larger map

http://dctemplelights.lds.org/

Mom, Dad, Tan, and Trav head to Washington D.C., Dec 2012.

I AM PEACH PIE’S RECKONING

2012-09-17T10:23:00.001-07:00

My Testimony of the Sacrament

2012-09-03T13:40:00.000-07:00

I bore my testimony yesterday. The night before, actually, it came to me that I ought to. Call it a spiritual hunch. Here’s how it went:

My name is Travis and I’m scared to death of being in front of large crowds [which is true, but I found out later that some people didn’t believe me]. I live in 308 with five guys who are all the man, and you ought to stop by and get to know them.

So I was talking to Annie earlier today, and I realized I have a thing or two to learn about delegation, which is why I’ve been the main guy in charge of sacrament for the last several weeks. But it turned out to be a blessing too, because it got me thinking about how important that ordinance is.

The other day I had a friend tell me that he had left the church. We had been friends for a long time, and this came as quite a shock. When he told me, he kind of had this smile on his face, and for a moment I thought it might just be a really bad joke. But he was serious. And it was a heavy thing to have to hear, and then to bear. That’s still be weighing on me, and I’ve thought a lot about how that sort of thing happens and how it can be avoided. I think the key might be in this ordinance we partake of every week at this altar right here [and I held my left arm straight to the side and gestured with an open palm toward the white cloths covering the sacrament].

I’ve been trying to think of the perfect metaphor for all of this—I’m an English major and I care about that sort of thing, and if you think of a better one I want you to come shake my hand and tell me about it. The first metaphor I came up with is this: You know when you’re out on the beach and it’s a little too chilly to get in but you just can’t resist touching the water so you take your shoes off and wade out to where the waves wash up past your ankles? You’ve all done this—I know you have—you dig your toes down into the sand and scoop out a little divot, and as the first wave washes up the divot fades into a subtle dent, and the second wave turns it into just a shadow of a circle, and by the third wave it’s gone. We mortals are just like this: we’re constantly crumbling, constantly fading back into what we used to be, regressing into the natural man. If you want to keep that hole in the sand, you have to keep digging it out, constantly, because the waves of mortality are washing over it, trying to erase it. But that’s why I don’t like this metaphor, because a divot doesn’t well represent the noble thing I’m talking about.

The next metaphor I thought of was food, and we’re reminded of this today because we’re fasting. You can’t just eat a ton of food on Sunday and then get by for a week. In fact, it’s hard to even get by for 24 hours—just a single day without food is extremely difficult. No, our bodies need constant maintenance. We feed them three times a day, give them plenty of water, and then we lay them down to shut off for 8 hours so they can regenerate.

Our spiritual livelihood is the same way. If we leave it alone, for even a day, it starts to die. It requires constant maintenance in order to remain living. A testimony has to be constantly fed, rejuvenated, and regenerated. If we leave it alone, it will die. The sacrament is a weekly rejuvenation—it helps to defend against this process—but in it is the promise to take Christ’s name and always remember him. That means constancy. It means more than just a covenant at the sacramental altar once a week. It means we remember him always—that’s a very high percentage of our time. It means we’re fighting spiritual atrophy—we’re praying to him, and we’re reading our scriptures, and we’re reaching out to our neighbors as true Christians do, and our thoughts are turned toward him constantly. And if we do this, then we reap the rewards—he promises to send his spirit, which is the thing that sanctifies us and protects us from that mortal crumbling. I know he’ll send his spirit if we honor this promise we just made, and it will keep us in the right way. And I say this in the name of Jesus Christ.

China

2012-08-30T20:29:00.001-07:00

Click here to view this photo book larger

The new way to make a photo album: photo books by Shutterfly.

south america

2012-08-30T20:27:00.001-07:00

Click here to view this photo book larger

Shutterfly offers exclusive photobook layouts so you can make your book just the way you want.

Clan MacWashburn

2012-05-24T19:00:00.000-07:00

We had a verrry serrrious discussion on the way back frrrom the rrrugby game. Mostly about ourrr noble herrritage.

(Click the wallpaper to see it big.)

“Eating outlawed donuts in outlawed whole milk.”

“And would ya be willin’ ta trade all the days from this day ta that for one chance—just ONE CHANCE—ta eat whatever ya fleedin’ want to?”

“And they ate like warrrrrior poets.”

“William MacWashburn ate feftae donuts. Feftae, if it was one.”

Dang, there were a few more funny ones, but I can’t remember them... Anyone else want to get on here and edit and add them?

Swirlbread

2012-01-15T17:19:00.000-08:00

I sneak into the kitchen and

try to toast some swirl bread

while no one’s looking, and,

before I know it,

my roommates are circling the room

like vultures,

making comments like,

“That sure smells good,”

and

“Where’d that come from?”

It’s at that moment that

I have a major internal struggle—

between selfishness and charity.

Usually the charity side wins

and I shoo them away.

That bread’s really unhealthy after all.

Ghosts on the Loose (East Side Kids)

2012-01-13T11:24:00.000-08:00

It's Friday the 13th!

Here's another classic for you : )

Africa Screams (Abbott and Costello)

2012-01-07T11:22:00.000-08:00

Lake Lowell Ice Journey

2011-12-27T19:31:00.001-08:00

View Lake Lowell Ice Journey (27 dec 2011) in a larger map

The photos of the trip are here:

https://plus.google.com/photos/102167105057814879309/albums/5692524936028367089

Captain Scarlet!

2011-12-24T21:00:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas, everyone : )

The full thing's available on my YouTube channel (ecksdot).

Saxon Dogs

2011-12-02T09:00:00.001-08:00

For some reason, this comic in Mom's cupboard seemed to be a crucial part of my childhood. Kind of like Dad's basket full of quarters in his top drawer.

A Map of Chy's Mission

2011-11-23T13:12:00.001-08:00

View Cheyenne's Mission en Guatemala in a larger map

A Literacy Narrative

2011-10-31T22:54:00.000-07:00

Exercise 5: A Literacy Narrative: Sonya Pearce

Sonya Pearce was born in Redding, California, on 11 February 1959. As the tenth of eleven children, she grew up in a household that wasn’t wealthy--rather poor, in fact. Her father, Ivan Pearce, was a rancher, and the cattle market wasn’t doing well at the time; in short, times were tough. Her family moved every two years or so, as her dad sold and bought ranch after ranch. The first place she was old enough to remember was Paul, Idaho, but they soon moved to Nampa, Idaho; Middleton, Idaho; Huntington, Oregon; Orevada, Nevada; Payette, Idaho; and Gilbert, Arizona.

She has a very early memory from when she was about four years old, in Paul, Idaho: her dad sitting in a red rocking chair, reading his scriptures by the evening fire. Though this scene paints him as a saint, he was sometimes a hard father, disciplining his eleven children and teaching them both the gospel and hard work.

Her mom, on the other hand, was a creative woman. She watched her mom carefully make posters for church meetings, or write quotes to put on the walls of their home (the lettering for which she had learned in a required class in high school). Her mom knew how to type too, and she owned a typewriter. Sonya always watched carefully when her mom would make carbon copies, layering the sheets, and typing onto two at once. Later (when Sonya was in fifth or sixth grade), her mom got a mimeograph machine which she used to copy information for her political meetings (she was, after all, the founder of the local chapter of the John Birch Society). But she also made copies of fliers for the young women’s association.

Her mom was a big advocate of reading. She taught her kids, “If you can read, you can learn anything you want to learn.”

When Sonya turned six, her brother Monty got her a book of her own, Little Black Sambo, and, that same day, her older sister Dixie gave her The Tall Book of Fairy Tales. She treasured those books and asked her mom to read them to her nearly every night. (Brian, though, her younger brother, asked for The Night Before Christmas every night.)

When they lived in Nevada, they were always ecstatic to see the dusty trail following a large blue school bus headed for their house. It was called the Book-mobile, and it had been gutted of his seats, filled with books, and painted in bright blue--a library on wheels. After mom returned the old books and checked out new ones, the Book-mobile would drive back down the bumpy dirt road, past Cleo Ben Goah’s (a damn Bask, as Sonya’s dad would jokingly say), and past the Woodwards’, until it reached the pavement 27 miles away. From there the Book-mobile had another 45 minutes to go before it made it back to Winnemucca. And the Pearces would keep their books for several weeks until it returned.

Sonya’s first-grade teacher organized her class into three groups of varying reading levels (Sonya was always in the highest). They sat on the floor in a circle and read Dick and Jane and home-made books the teacher had made for them by folding papers into fourths and stitching the pages together. As they’d read, they were awarded with little star stickers, which, if you earned enough of, could be traded for a big, gold-star sticker.

In fourth grade, her mom asked her to write letters to her older brother, Parley, who was on a mission. And her mom continued to encourage her to read--by reading out loud to them books like Brighty of the Grand Canyon. Her older sisters, especially Bunny, read to them too. Every evening after dinner, usually after the sun had gone down, little Sonya, Brian, Melodee, and Shannon would lay on their older sisters’ big bed and listen to books like Huckleberry Finn, The Secret Garden, The Wolves of Willoughby Chase, Where the Red Fern Grows, and The Witch of Blackbird Pond. Bunny would impersonate the characters’ voices, even mimicking British accents. She must have loved doing it; the children certainly enjoyed listening. Bunny’s stories were the best entertainment around. Sadly, now days that sort of thing is often replaced with TV and video games--which lacks the personal interaction and human connection that storytelling has. Her dad did watch the news on TV occasionally, though, after which he’d express his disgust about the Vietnam war.

In sixth grade, their school bought a projector that would shine sentences onto the wall. As the teacher turned the knob, the time would speed up, making you read more words in fewer seconds. Sonya got up to 450 words per minute. Although they were tested on comprehension and she always did well, she had a nagging feeling that it was teaching her to chomp through reading without really savoring it. (When she later took a speed reading class in college, the professor wanted them to get to 700 words per minute, but she just couldn’t or wouldn’t do it.)

That same year her sister Dixie gave her a diary that came with a lock and key. She treasured them and wrote in it often--not a story, per se, but simply about the day-to-day things of a young girl raised on a ranch. When it ran out, she started another diary on an old tablet.

Her mom died when she was twelve.

Her Dad had to sell the ranch to pay the enormous death taxes, and they moved to Ontario, Oregon, in the middle of her seventh-grade year to start again. Sonya went from a class of ten to a junior high of 400 where she would have to switch between four different buildings for her classes. It was a shock and an intimidating new social position. Her teacher, Mr. Sutherland, was a round man, with chubby cheeks, a mustache, and an accent--a strict man who, to her, was not approachable. “I used to sweat bullets,” she later wrote, “worrying that I would get chosen to go to the chalkboard to diagram a sentence in front of the class.” Having gotten there mid-year, she didn’t know anything about diagramming--hadn’t even heard of it. She was relieved when they moved to the next unit--as she wouldn’t have to worry about the chalk board anymore. Mr. Sutherland gave her her first real writing assignment: a research paper on France. (And she didn’t realize he’d neglected to teach her about citation styles until she arrived in college and discovered she hadn’t really gotten much of an education at all.) The research paper, at least, sparked her interest in European studies, and with a little encouragement from her older sisters she read The Three Musketeers, and other books, which was simply a gateway to more learning. She enjoyed the read, but she read it without any context of the rich history around it--a history she knew she had to learn.

A few years later when they were moving yet again, she threw away her diaries--somehow thinking she would never need those memories. But she kept a newspaper clipping that showed a picture of her mom promoting reading in schools.

Sonya continued to write letters to Dixie, who was away at college, and to her older brothers, as each of them served missions. During her senior year of high school, Sonya learned calligraphy from her sister Beau, so she could learn to write like her mother.

In her late teens she attended Ricks College in Rexburg, Idaho, where she took a course on children’s literature. And this teacher brought excitement back into her education. He would leap onto the desk in the middle of a dramatic reading, completely animated, his unhandsome face and unashamed expressions adding more exuberance and liveliness to the scene. He got her revved up--enthusiastic about learning and being creative. He encouraged her to buy a dictionary, of all things (and her children later learned and benefited from the big red dictionary she bought because of him). He assigned his students to write a children’s book of their own. Hers was about a witch, and she illustrated it with full-color drawings. It made writing fun, and although most of her peers whined about and dreaded the task, it was the most enjoyable college assignment she ever had. (Nor has she done a project like it since, though she has often wanted to.) After earning her associate’s degree in general education, she attended Brigham Young University.

At BYU she met her husband, Jim Washburn, and came close to getting her bachelor’s degree (a degree she may soon finish now that her children are mostly raised). She continued to learn ways to expand her creativity, taking classes on tole painting, sewing (and not the simple kind), and even reupholstering furniture. Raising their eight children on a single income, they struggled through minor financial straits of their own. But she educated them and taught them the value of education--just as her mother had done for her. (Now, although they don’t make millions, they have plenty, and are well off.)

During her younger married life, her husband brought home a dinosaur of a computer that took floppy discs that were nearly a foot across. He suggested that she learn to use it, but it was all too frustrating and complicated--she just didn’t understand. After messing with it for a while, she got rid of it. Her sister Dixie then bugged and bugged her to get on email, but she wouldn’t hear it--it wasn’t worth the hassle. Five or six years later she and her husband bought a personal computer, and her children, then a little older, slowly taught her to use it. It wasn’t that hard to learn--nothing like the old dinosaur, but it took a little repetition and some patience from her children. Now she writes her journal in Word rather than by hand--as she can write much more and faster that way. She also runs her own puppy business with email as a primary way to communicate with clients, and she updates her business’s website with pictures of the dogs.

As a mother and full-time homemaker, she writes in her journal, and she reads both for pleasure and to continually educate her children. She recently read with her twelve-year-old son, Jackson, a book called The Great Brain, and she enjoyed it at least as much as he did (probably a little more). She also writes emails to her daughter on a mission in Guatemala (which serves as a supplement to her sometimes sporadic journal writing).

Her father, Ivan Pearce, now 96, recently had a mild stroke, and he came to live with her for several weeks. One day she sat him down at her computer desk and explained the internet to him. This was a man who had started life with a horse and buggy, who had been there at the arrival of indoor plumbing--a man who’d seen airplanes first take flight, and a rocketship carry men to the moon. She showed him how with nothing more than a few clicks, the information of the entire world could be loaded onto the screen--how you could learn about just about anything under the sun, anything you ever wanted to learn. They even typed a letter together and sent it off through cyberspace.

2011-10-16T20:49:00.000-07:00

David found out that I never read the preface, forward or anything extra when I read a book so here is to you dear:

Preface:

One good and bad thing about living in a small town is that everyone knows everything about everyone. Because everyone knows if you tell one person sooner or later the whole town will know. Since this is the case it is a great game to broad cast personal details of your life in order to beat all the chatty Cathys. (I may have already included some of my own exaggeration, Kamiah is growing on me for better or worse).

Story:

Our house sold in August to a nice Indian lady, Danice in our ward. She has been very excited about the house, and has called me on several occasions to ask questions and to share with me all the tiny details right down to the furniture. After we moved out, the house needed some remodeling on the basement window to bring it up to code. Danice called a few weeks later to let me in on all the updates. Well long story short while the window was being worked on the loan fell through, and she may end up not getting the house after all. What cracked me up and still makes me smile every time I think about it is how our conversation ended it was something like this:

Danice: "Yeah so I really hope that I get the house now, cause you know Barbara (the Realtor) let me move some of my new furniture (a table and couch) into the house. If I don't get the house how am I going to move the furniture? So that is kinda what is going on with me."

Me: "Well that is too bad if you would have to move the funiture and all, I am sure that it will work out" And in my head I am thinking "Poor Danice?! Floyd (the home owner) was banking on his house being sold, and I just moved apparently for no good reason"...

I should call Danice and see if she needs help with her big move.

Dragons Can Be Beaten

2011-10-13T15:54:00.000-07:00

G. K. Chesterton helped nudge C. S. Lewis back to Christianity. He was part of the writing club called The Inklings.

Homemade Icecream and Donuts

2011-06-01T12:09:00.000-07:00

This has been an exciting last few days. It started with Tanner arriving about 9pm Friday night. It was Father's and son night, but because Tanner couldn't get home sooner, Dad disappointedly stayed home Friday evening and we all made donuts. Mom made the dough and Aimee-Anna-Sioux supervised Jefferson and Jackson on how to roll and cut them out. Aimee Anna Sioux fried them and Jefferson glazed them and ate them,he was quality control. Dad pronounced they were better than Crispy Creme!

Six a.m. the following morning the Father and Sons got in the car and drove to Father's and Sons, in time for breakfast and a hike up the mountain. They hiked with Father Ted, Scott, and Jacob. Tanner helped Scottie up the hill.

Mom rolled out of bed went to yard sales in Meridian and Eagle. I got some real "good stuff". Aimee Anna Sioux slept in and watched the puppies. Saturday night we watched "Blood Diamond". Aimee Anna and Jackson watched something less violent downstairs. Sunday we all went to church. Jackson passed the sacrament for the first time. He was ordained to the Holy Priesthood on May 15th. Jacob Rudder blessed the Sacrament for the first time Sunday. Jackson and Jacob did a great job.

Mom was called to be the Sunbeam teacher. I haven't taught that class since Shawnee was a Sunbeam. I am excited about it, these kids comments are so funny. Violet Borrowman told me my eyes were scarey. So I gave her the one eye pirate eye, then she really laughed. Later in the lesson, she said she wished I was her mom.!! arrrr......After church we had Sunday dinner, Tanner fixed most of it along with some well aged grogg. Eleven p.m. Sunday Bruce and Thelma took out of the back yard across Dixions lawn. All of a sudden we heard alot of yelping. Tan ran towards the yelping only to find Bruce holding up his front leg like it was broke. Tanner carried the 170 Bruce home. Bruce went to the Vet on Tuesday and the xray showed no broken bones. It was all swollen up and he was running a fever, Dr. Calhoun, thought maybe he was bit by a spider. We are keeping an eye on him and see if it impoves.

Monday, Dad worked out in the yard with his two slaves Jefferson, Jackson and Aimee Anna helped too. Tanner was doing some assignments before he could head back to school. We had the last bag of Shawnee and David's wedding reception drink. Dinner was ham, roasted cubed potatoes, green salad and green beans with whole wheat bread. For deseret we had homemade icecream with raspberries on top!! Tanner tanked up couldn't believe we ate so well here. Jackson walked home from Mikey's just in time for dinner, but had lost most his appetite due to a fall off of his rip stick.

We just got back from the doctor today(Wed). It was Dr. Smith, his daugher Lauren played VB with Cheyenne on a club team. He casted Jackson's arm/wrist. He has a fractured bone at the base of the thumb.

Thelma Lou had 3 girls and 2 boys. Nana had 3 boys and 1 girl. They are little piggies and sooo cute!! All is well here at Happy Dale.

Sioux, for your next wallpaper...

2011-05-27T15:23:00.001-07:00