Just thought you should know

Tyler had surgery today and had phenol in his legs and his tonsils removed. He is home. He would LOVE some Ware love. He gets to walk through HELL everyday and it is sometimes a little tough. He has been pretty good this afternoon but tonight has been tough.

Happy Fathers Day, Grandpa!

I have been thinking a lot of Grandpa today. I remember all those Fathers Days growing up and having our "party" out on the deck with the family. It was never really a planned thing, if it was I didn't know about it :) We all just showed up and ended up on the deck. Miss you Grandpa!

A Week in Logan

Last Thursday I was driving south on Logan main street. I was needing to turn left and head east; however, the light was green so I was yielding to many vehicles heading north. I inched my way into the intersection to have the opportunity to turn left when the light would switch. I noticed the line of cars continuing north, so the wait was very long. When the light decided to turn yellow the cars heading north stopped allowing me to turn left so that I wasn't left in the intersection; however, a white Dodge decided they wanted to own the intersection, so they gunned it and ran the red light, nearly hitting me. I was a little shaken up after and my immediate response was, "Call Grandpa and ask him who was in the wrong!" When I knew that I couldn't call him, I decided to call mom and/or Chelsie. I found no answers, and I am still curious who would have been at fault.

In other news, I am sitting on my porch right now, enjoying the sun, drinking some lemonade with ice. It reminds me of spending time out on the deck as a family. I loved those afternoons. I remember always being the, "Mitchell, will you go get...." boy for Grandpa and Grandma. I know we have all made jokes about how Grandpa would say, "3 ice cubes", but it made me feel good that I could help my Grandpa with the most simple things. I will forever remember my Grandpa by the way that I served him. I helped him in the yard, helped with the clocks, and many other things.

A few weeks ago I was out for a run in Orangeville, and I decided to pay Grandma a visit. I went inside and we talked for a bit, she showed me his room and the wallpaper removal process. She left the room to answer a phone call and I could have a moment in his room. I opened up his closet doors and I saw his tie holder. I remember, as a child, I loved seeing his tie holder and how it would rotate. I saw a shirt of his, and just like my mother, I pulled the shirt in and held it. I smelled the shirt and for that brief moment, I had Grandpa next to me. I knew Grandpa was watching at that moment. I could feel it. I could feel him.

On my way back to Logan, I drove in silence. I thought about life, family, friends, and Grandpa and what I had experienced that afternoon in his room, and I have come up with this conclusion: Before I had gone home I hadn't spent much time on the fact that Grandpa was no longer here. I knew he had past, but I never "felt" what I did that afternoon in his bedroom. So I take that experience as a reminder that my Grandpa still knows me, he watches me, he is reading this blog as I type it, he is still there. So I think we will all have a reminder sooner or later, and they will happen when we are needing that reminder, and when we are in need of that comfort and love that we once had when Grandpa was here.

The Great Flood of Orangeville

(I posted this on my blog, but thought I would repost it here for those of you who NEVER look at my blog. Which is okay....really, it's OK :)

Dad always said that people remember things differently, and I know that is true. But this is my memory....
The Great Flood of Orangeville happened on the last day of school when I was in 5th grade. Anyway, that is what sticks in my memory because the next year on the last day of school, Uncle Jim...(Principal Peacock) showed us his home movie of the great flood. The entire school took their chairs up to lunchroom to watch the movie, along with other movies. I remember him asking who remembered that day the previous year. We didn't have the lunchroom until I was in sixth grade, so the flood had to be when I was in fifth grade. That's the way it is in my memory.

It had rained all day long, really rained. Back then, we had ditched, the canal, and the one-lane bridge. I remember walking home in the pouring rain and getting drenched to the skin. I remember sitting on the red stool watching out the kitchen window as the water rushed down the road. The jeep was outside at the end of the sidewalk and the water was up to the middle of the wheels. Dad was running in and out, driving away and then coming home, for whatever reason. I know there were a few times he grabbed the shovel and went up to the canal on the corner, where the canal crossed under main street. I suppose they were trying to close down the gate that let the water into the ditches.

The canal ran along from the corner on Main Street behind Uncle Bruce's house and to the corner by the elementary ball field. There was only a small dirt road along that block east of the school, with the open canal right where the middle of the road is now. There was a foot bridge that went from across the bridge over to Aunt Lorene's house, no handrails or guard rails. The canal was flooded over and the foot bridge was underwater. Sometime during the afternoon we got in our car and drove over to Aunt Lorene's house. I remember seeing the water coming down the road in front of the school and across the canal. I wondered how the water went OVER the water in the canal! The water was moving really fast down the road and fields there, right into George and Ann Bell's basement windows.

I remember people saying that the canal above town had broken and the water was all rushing east through town. My kids might remember how the rain rushes off the clay hills up the canyon...well that is what was happening, but it was all over town. Cottonwood Creek was so full, with trees and muddy water rushing so fast. The water came clean up to our backyard, in the middle of all the apple and plum trees. There was a time Mom worried about the water coming up to the house.

I remember the water had washed over the road at the Mill Dam, and for several months we couldn't get across, until a new road was built. I don't remember if the dam there broke, or if it was always broken. It seems like another chunk of it was broken off.

You can see from the picture above that the water had been higher than in the picture. Look on the step on the left. It has dirt and debris that was left from the higher water. The walking path on the other side of the bridge was probably just touching the water. I hated to walk across that on a good day, let alone during a flood!

It was certainly a flood to remember. I don't think a "last day of school" goes by that I don't think about that flood. I am sure everyone has lots of stories they could tell about The Great Flood of Orangeville.

Facebook

I am sure since all of us are on facebook that you have seen them all but here is a few pictures of the D!

A Student's Memory

My friend, Wendy Knudsen, wrote this message on my personal blog about Mr. Ware. Since I just found it hidden away, I thought I would share it with others. Wendy moved to EC when we were in junior high. Her dad taught at the high school for several years, then they moved away. She is related to the Wrights in Clawson.

Debated on where to leave this comment . . . your blog won out! I wanted to share a funny little memory I have of your dad.

How many people out there can actually remember who their Driver's Ed teacher is? Lucky for us around our age group, it was your dad! I remember finishing up the driver's training right around my birthday. It seemed like EVERYONE had a birthday before me and I was one of the last to get a driver's license.

The last day I was driving, we (me and someone else were driving together that day) stopped at the rest area between Castle Dale and Ferron (near the Orangeville turnoff?). Your dad filled out the paperwork on the little piece of paper and signed off on it that I had completed all the requirements and passed everything satisfactorily. Then he folded that paper twice. I was in the driver's seat ready to drive back to Ferron. As I was exiting the rest area, I came to a complete stop . . . just past the stop sign! With that, you dad shook his head and said, "Wendy, I just signed off on this! I'm going to have to do something." With that, he tore off a small corner of that folded paper and said he was sure that I would remember to stop in FRONT of the stop sign instead of past it! :o)

I'm sure the DMV office wondered why my paper had this little tear in it! And who knew that it would be YOUR dad that would help prepare me for navigating the freeways in southern California all these years later!

New traditions

The other day I found a recipe on the internets and thought I'd share it here.

Pillow Mints!

Makes 1 pound (about 225 mints)

Make these Good Friday morning or the night before. They're ready to serve Easter morning.

1 stick salted butter, softened
A one-pound box powdered sugar, plus more for dusting
2 Tablespoons heavy cream or whole milk
1 teaspoon mint extract
Red, green, yellow food coloring

In a large bowl, beat butter until creamy. With mixer on low, add sugar (sift it so there are no lumps) to the butter along with cream and extract until creamy and smooth.

Turn dough out onto a work surface lightly dusted with powdered sugar; knead until smooth and satiny. Divide mixture into thirds: Tint one-third pastel pink with 1 drop red food coloring, one-third pastel green with 1 drop green and one-third buttery yellow with 1 drop yellow. Cover each portion with plastic wrap to keep it from drying out as you work.

Note: I have altered the original recipe's number of drops of food coloring. In the photos above (the first time I made these mints), I used no yellow food coloring and 2 drops red for the pink mints and 2 drops green for the green mints. I think a single drop of food coloring in each third division would achieve much softer pastel shades.

Line 2 baking sheets with nonstick foil. Lightly dust work surface with powdered sugar. Working with one color at a time, roll out ¼ cupfuls of the dough, using your fingers, into a ½-inch-thick rope. Cut rope into ½- to ¾-inch pillows. Transfer mints to prepared baking sheet with a spatula. (Be careful—mints are soft and will squish easily). Repeat with remaining mint mixture.

Let air-dry at room temperature for 2 days until firm enough to handle. Transfer mints to covered containers.

Storage Tip: Store in a container that won't allow moisture to become trapped inside at cool room temperature up to 2 weeks.

5 mints = one serving
Per serving: 62 calories, 0 protein/0 fiber, 11 g carbohydrates, 2 g fat (1 g saturated fat), 6 mg cholesterol, 15 mg sodium


I haven't tried them yet, but will soon. The plan is to make them each year on Grandpa' birthday.

Also, I've been adding pics to the flickr page; start commenting, PEOPLE! I speak more specifically to the 4 special ladies, as they have info to share about the pics.

Side Note

Dad/Grandpa was released as Bishop the Sunday before I started High School, so August of 1978. It was just 13 months later that Mom/Grandma died. Heavenly Father has very good timing for getting done what he wants done.

An Enlightened Moment

I was at Food Ranch today and Sandra Huntington asked me how old I was when my mom died. I told her I was 16 and we talked about how that is very young to lose your mother. She asked how old my mom was when she died. I told her that she had just turned 45. We talked about how young that was to be taken from your family.

She told me she could still remember where she was when she got the news that Nell Ware had died. And we chatted for a minute about all of this and then I was out the door and to my car.

As I drove home I thought about Dad and how he was 48 when he lost his wife. In all these years no one has ever asked me how old Dad was when Mom died. Or said anything about how young that is to lose your wife. Many, many people have said just what Sandra said about my age, and about Mom's age. But no one has ever asked about Dad.

48 is a year older than my age right now. So think of Todd Jeffs or Garth Luke. They are 48. That is very young to lose your wife and be left with a daughter still at home and one just starting out on her own and two others with babies. A husband who was looking forward to just the two of them at home with grand-kids entering the picture. Bishop"hood" was over and he was home more.

Wow, I just had a thought. When Dad was called to be the Bishop, he was rather young for a Bishop at that time and in this area. Now I see the wisdom of a Heavenly Father in calling him when he was called. Dad was released in August of 78. The next bishop after that was called after Mom had died so that was like the only opportunity for Dad to be Bishop. Very interesting.

Maybe it's just me and my being only 16 at the time, but it doesn't seem like many people "worried" about Dad. He was a strong man in the community. He bore everyone's burdens. And then this happened and again, people relied on him and his strength.

Just a thought I had today and wanted to share.

Just a Thought Today

I heard at school that Norma Fox had passed away. My first fleeting thought was "Oh, I need to go call Dad." How long does it take before that doesn't happen any more? Does it ever go away?