GENEROSITY

Life is sweet sometimes.

Amy and I were gathering snacks

From the trunk of her car

To eat on the drive home

From the Bryce Winter Festival.

“Where’s my bread?

Have you seen it?”

“No.  Can’t you find it?”

“I can’t.”

Being on a gluten-free diet

For two months now;

DeRay made special bread

From buckwheat and rice.

Next car to us,

Two foreign-speaking women

had been eating lunch

Out of their trunk.

“Can’t you find your bread?

Here’s some for you.”

“Oh, no, we have bread.”

She paid no attention

Intend on sharing;

She handed us two slices.

We added it to our bag of bread.

Even when we got home

That bread, so freely given,

though I couldn’t eat it,

Warmed the cockles of my heart.

FOUL

Well, let’s see,

For two months now

DeRay and I have cut out

1. All dairy.
2. All grains.
3. All sugar.

My long-cherished favorite foods.

Impressive.

Ah – the will-power;

The determination.

Yes!  The sacrifice.

The emptiness.

No kidding.

I resisted Amy’s delicious-looking

Peanut butter cookies

With a big chocolate kiss on top;

The sugar cookies the neighbor children

Brought to Eddy;

Even the Christmas See’s candy

From our hometeacher.

This is getting personal.

Exercising faithfully.

Plus we are taking $5000 each

Vitamins and supplements.

Seriously.

Nonetheless,

The trend is moving in the wrong direction.

Evoking this,

Upon awakening, I muse:

“I wonder how much
my blood sugar has gone up;
and how much weight I’ve gained today.”

Memories that surface when someone dies.

Louis Lavar Pratt

Published: February 07. 2011 4:55AM

KANAB — Louis Lavar Pratt passed away on February 3, 2011 at his home in Kanab, Utah. Lou was born June 30, 1933, the only child to Lavar Orson and Clara Cram Pratt. He lived most of his life in Kanab.  While in the Army in New York, he met Frances Louise Welch. After a 7 day courtship they were married and returned to Utah. Later they lived on Beach Street in Henderson, Nevada where he was employed with the Las Vegas Metro Police & at TIMET Plant where they made Titanium Metals. In 1973 Lou and Fran moved their family back to Kanab, and Lou worked at Arizona Fuels until he retired in 1983.  Lou enjoyed spending time at the cabin that he built with his parents and family at Swains Creek on Cedar Mountain. He loved the outdoors and anything that had to do with fishing, hunting & camping. He enjoyed jeeping and later 4-wheeling with his friends. He listened to Tradio every morning on the radio and made lots of deals over the phone. He enjoyed reading the Nifty Nickel and watching any program on TV about wildlife. He loved to wheel and deal on anything from cars to guns to property.  Survivors include wife Frances; children Kathy (J.Lowe) Barton, Beverly (Gus) Carayas and Louis Jr. (Traci) Pratt; grandsons Seth Michael Barton, Joshua J. Barton, Evan Carayas, Nicholas Clyde Pratt, and Justin Louis Pratt; granddaughters Sarah Butts, Jessica Hoff, Robyn Carayas, and Rebecca Nelson; and great-grandchildren Kamryn & Troy Black, Samara Stark, Jaxon Butts and Michael Rowe.  Services will be held Monday, February 7, 2011 at 1:00 PM at Mosdell Mortuary, with a viewing from 12:00 Noon to time of service. Interment with Military honors by American Legion Post 69 will be in the Kanab Cemetery. Services arranged with Mosdell Mortuary.

My brother, Jerry, said the last time he talked to Keith Tilley he remembered the incident in Orderville so many years ago.  Keith came down from Utah State with my brothers, Lynn and DeLoy, for the Thanksgiving weekend.  As was our custom, after the dance we invited everyone to our house for games and fun.  My best friend, Georgia, had dated Louis Pratt a little (I double-dated with his friend, Kent Nash) so he and his no-good buddies were messing around outside.  They actually opened up one of the windows in our front room that had never been opened.  It was painted shut.  When that happened, the guys went outside to see what was going on.  They all came in laughing because they had scared them away.  “That one kid didn’t want to fight because I asked him,” Larry, our strong veteran cousin, bragged.  Then DeLoy came in.  He was bleeding.  Louis had hit him with a pipe wrench.  It wasn’t funny anymore. 

I don’t remember if it was that night or another night but we were afraid of them so we drove Georgia home.  Lynn walked her in, just to keep her safe.  When he came back out, Louis called him over to the car.  When Lynn got close, Louis grabbed him and drove off.  He was really a trouble-maker.  They were horrific for no good reason.  A classmate, DeRay ran with him a little bit.  He has no good memories.  Kent straightened up and even got active in the church in later years.  I saw him at a wedding reception in Vegas once.  Reading the obituary, it sounds like Louis grew up too.  The thing of it was, the guys from Valley didn’t fight.  At least, not our big group who was everyone who wasn’t married from 15-16 years through 35—my age through Shirley’s; before and beyond.  She started the parties, then one New Year’s Eve after she was teaching school, she found her true love and left Georgia and me holding the bag while she ran off to New Castle to be with him.  I cried big tears and told her she was a deserter and questioned how she could be so mean.  I remember Georgia and me lying up on my bed before the dance, scared to death, promising that next year we would have a party with just us and our boyfriends.  However, the parties, well-established, were so much fun that we sponsored them until we both got married.

Georgia and I double-dated with lots of guys.  She went with a guy from Cedar named Charlie Peterson and I went with Doug Maxwell.  Doug had first cousins in Glendale.  I wrote to Doug all the time he was on his mission and in the service.  Amy still uses the jewelry box he sent me from Japan.  But I never planned to marry him, as he did me according to rumor.  (His dad delivered gas to my cousin in Enterprise.)  I always planned to marry my true love, DeRay, who was away in the Service in Germany while I was graduating from high school and going to business college in Salt Lake City.

Back to Louis Pratt, when I was in Salt Lake living with Bishop Terry and JaNee while going to business school, Louis came to town so he called and asked if I would like to go out.  Georgia was married by this time; barefoot and pregnant; bottling peaches.  Bishop Terry said that was the nicest young man who had come calling in all winter.  I didn’t breathe a word of Louis’ reputation.  He was a perfect gentleman that night.  Just friends, sort of. 

My friend and cousin, Mary Lee Esplin, and I went to Salt Lake together to attend Henager’s School of Business.  There was a program where you could live with families and help out and get board and room free.  I was lucky enough to get in with the Terrys.  JaNee’s mother had died a lingering cancer death the year before.  Besides being bishop, Bishop Terry was on the police force (and dating) so he was gone a lot.  He wanted someone to keep JaNee company after the sorrow of the past year.  We prepared meals together and did the housework.  I had a lot of time to study and was treated like a member of the family. 

Of all our friends at Henager’s who did this, I was the only one who lasted the school year out.  Mary Lee got in with a socialite family who expected her to feed and tend the children every single night while they went out.  She was the youngest in her family (after her younger sister died) and was used to being pampered; not accustomed to waiting on anyone.  She didn’t last two months, moving in with our older cousin who had lived in Salt Lake City after her marriage.  Beverly Church, our new friend from Panguitch, got in with a family with lots of children where the husband chased her around the table.  She moved into the Beehive house, where Nancy Shumway, my rival from Kanab, lived.  She went with Kent Nash also.  When he came to Salt Lake, he didn’t call me, he went with Nancy, making me jealous even though I didn’t even like him.  Along with a couple of guys from Kanab going to the U, we all rode home to Southern Utah together for holidays and such.
Such memories the death of an old acquaintance stirs up.
  

SHEEPHERDER

Ad in Salt Lake Tribune Sunday February 6, 2011

My three brothers all could qualify for that job.  They all herded sheep.  Our daddy earned and owned his own sheep; as did his daddy before him; and his daddy before him in the Highlands of Scotland.

Yes, my brothers could tend/move sheep flocks; prevent animals from straying; protect flock from predators/bad weather; assist with lambing.  They knew how to be on call 24-hours a day/7 days a week, including holidays.  So did Daddy.  Including Christmas.   He was out on the Arizona Strip tending his sheep the last three Christmases of his life.

Daddy and the kids:  Lucy, Lynn, Shirley, DeLoy, Jeanette "out to the herd"

As children, we looked forward each summer to going “out to the herd”.  That’s what we called it.  The “herd” was usually out to Bob Creek.  It wasn’t actually at Bob Creek.  In those days, there was no road to Bob Creek.  It was up on top.  To get to the lush meadows and stream of Bob Creek from our camp up on top, we first had to hike down through Jimmy Creek, up a big hill and back down into Bob Creek.  At least, that’s the way I remember it.  I’ll have to ask my brother, Lynn.  He’s four years older than me and spent a lot of time with Daddy “out to the herd”.

Lynn wrote:

 Hi,  Here is a Topo map of The Herd.  The red dots are places where we camped.  The Herd went from Fredericks Canyon north of Sorensen’s Ranches on the west, up over Clear Creek Mountain then on west through the Orderville Gulch and ended on Dry Lake Point on the west. It contained about 2000 acres of private land and a BLM permit. You could get to the herd by going on the North Fork Road to the Orderville Gulch and the west side. To get to the east side we went by Sorensen’s ranches and then either up Nutes to Earl’s Canyon or up Frederick’s Canyon. The other way to get there was to start on the North Fork road then soon turn off and go north upon to Clear Creek Mtg. and to our deer camp and “On Top”.  On Top included Bob Creep Point, Jimmy Creek Point, the marking corral, money rock, deer camp, As you mentioned there was no road to Bob Creek. We would drive out on Bob Creek point and take our camp down the Bob Creek hill, “trail”, with pack horses. Tink’s throne was about half way down the Bob Creek Hill.

Map of Camps Daddy took his family to while herding his sheep.

I was only 10 when Daddy was killed while herding sheep on his own hard-earned land.  I want to thank Lynn for helping me understand where we were when we were “out to the herd”.  We’ve been deer hunting and camping there since we have grown up but I still never understood the lay of the land.  I’m adding this to my Life Story!
This is the map Brent prepared.  You can go to comments for an interactive map.

Rachel

In Pioneer times, families were more used to losing loved ones.  My Grandpa Esplin married two wives on the same day July 10, 1876, in the Salt Lake Endowment House.  Aunt Hattie, daughter of the Other Mother, told me that her mother was healthy and strong and had healthy and strong babies; and my grandmother was sickly and had sickly babies.  I don’t know if that were true.  I remember her telling me that her mother had babies right away and my grandmother waited years to have her first baby.  In checking the genealogical records, I see that both wives had her first baby in January, only four days apart, 2½ years after they were married.  It is true that Aunt Hattie’s mother had nine children, all of whom lived to adulthood, most of them into their 80’s.  My grandma had 12 children; only five of whom lived long enough to be married and have families.  Five babies in a row died.  Harriet died at four months with whooping-cough.  The others, Howard, Henry, Emily and Josiah, lived only a few days or a few weeks.  Lucy died at age 15; and a promising son, James, died at age 31 while away at college.

I recently read a book on the ten handcart companies, of which my Heaton ancestors participated.  Every family faced death daily during that ordeal.

Now days, we generally don’t have those challenges.  Children dying is the exception rather than the rule.  Every family does not bear that sorrow.  So when Erika called this morning to tell us that Rachel Wood died, I was saddened.  She is the third of six children of our old Farmington neighbors, Paul and Carolyn Wood, to die young – before her time.  Her sister, Paula, in her early 20’s died first; then a sister, April, age 44, died suddenly four years ago. The mother, Carolyn, died two years ago; 71 years old.  Young really. Twenty-four days later, her identical twin sister, who was to her funeral, died.  They also buried one of their five grandchildren.  And now Rachel, gone in the prime of life.  It pricks my soul.  They are such kind and gentle people.  They don’t have a mean bone in their bodies.  They cry but they have accepted each death with a strong faith and abiding trust in God’s will.

 RACHEL KAGIE

Rachel Wood Kagie 1966 - 2011.  Rachel Wood Kagie of Bountiful, Utah, 44, passed away quietly Saturday afternoon following complications due to cancer. She enjoyed being a homemaker, cross-stitching, crocheting, playing games of all kinds, and also tending and hosting game parties with her nieces and nephews. Some of her favorite activities included: gardening, camping, fishing, vacationing, and loving her dog, Misty. She lived life fully for 22 years after a kidney transplant donated by her brother, Eric. Rachel married her high school sweetheart in the Salt Lake LDS Temple, and had a strong testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Preceded in death by her mother, Caroline (sp); and sisters, April and Paula. She is survived by her husband, Val; son, Orin; father, Paul (Farmington); and siblings, Shelly, Eric (Farmington), and Clark (West Virginia). Funeral services will be held at 1:00 p.m., Friday, February 4, 2011 at the Bountiful South Stake Center, 1250 South Main. A viewing will be held Thursday evening from 6:00 - 8:00 p.m. at Russon Brothers Bountiful Mortuary, 295 North Main and Friday 11:45 a.m.-12:45 p.m. at the church prior to services. Interment-Bountiful City Cemetery.

Happiness Without a Cause

I enjoy the Zen podcasts that Amy downloaded for me while I’m exercising.  They calm me down; remind me I don’t have to fix everything or have everything perfect.

They say to me:

Don’t be anxious about the fact that the world isn’t perfect.

Live in *trust

                 *integrity

                 *gratitude

                 *generosity

                 *mindfulness

BE IN THE MOMENT

Present for one another.

Because you are present, you are connected.

Mystery brings happiness.  We don’t have to have all the answers.  The mind that is not baffled is not employed.

Just be happy.

Happiness without a cause.

 If someone is suffering, you do them no favors to take upon yourself their suffering.  You be well so you can help them get well.

 A Brief for the Defense
by Jack Gilbert
Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies
are not starving someplace, they are starving
somewhere else. With flies in their nostrils.
But we enjoy our lives because that's what God wants.
Otherwise the mornings before summer dawn would not
be made so fine. The Bengal tiger would not
be fashioned so miraculously well. The poor women
at the fountain are laughing together between
the suffering they have known and the awfulness
in their future, smiling and laughing while somebody
in the village is very sick. There is laughter
every day in the terrible streets of Calcutta,
and the women laugh in the cages of Bombay.
If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction,
we lessen the importance of their deprivation.
We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,
but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world. To make injustice the only
measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.
If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,
we should give thanks that the end had magnitude.
We must admit there will be music despite everything.
We stand at the prow again of a small ship
anchored late at night in the tiny port
looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront
is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning.
To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat
comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth
all the years of sorrow that are to come.

No Change

About

The first day of autumn
returning from alms round
I set down my bowl by the temple
to go play with the children.
Last year: a foolish monk.
This year: no change.

–Ryokan

I like the part about setting down his bowl and going to play with the children.  Too often after “alms round” (taking care of responsibilities), we forget to take the time to play with the children or even to relax ourselves.

However, taking it out of context, I focus on the last two lines:

Last year: a foolish monk.

This year:  no change.

And in abject self-reproach, I write:

Last year:  a foolish wife, mother, grandmother, sister, friend.

This year:  no change.

(I might mention that “Alms round” for a monk is when he takes his empty bowl each morning and goes into town.  If they desire, they put food in it for him to eat.  Sometimes he gets plenty and sometimes none.  Then he goes back to his “hut” to eat it and meditate.)