Independence Day

I was living in Missouri when the movie Independence Day was released. I had just returned home from Kansas City where I had gone to see the movie.  I lived near Adam-Ondi-Ahman, which is a powerful spiritual vortex.  It was close to evening and I was out enjoying the time around dusk when colors are vivid and the sun is beginning to color the clouds. I looked to the South and saw a huge wall cloud approaching rapidly. The cloud was rolling towards me and looked very much like the scene in the movie where the mother ship was entering our atmosphere, I have to admit for a moment, my heart skipped a beat as I reflected on the movie and the scene now laid before me ...  There are many visitors who come to visit our beautiful planet, some in ships, some in spiritual form and there are places where these visitors enter our planet, not unlike the picture above. We have been given the great opportunity to live here in this beautiful place, to experience and learn and grow and help others to do the same ... Be prepared ... some day when you are out in Nature you may see a doorway opening ...

Hound Dogs and Tow Trucks

I have my friend, the mail man, to thank for this latest story. It was standing room only at town council last night. Two people, with opposing views, taking shots at each other. Towns people privy to the inside story had been tipped off with the announcement of the agenda for town council. I know some of those in this story and I was laughing with tears, as I heard some of the details. It is the age old story of feuds. 

The Hatfields and McCoys of 1878. That’s the one that comes to mind first. ”The Carter-Wakefield feud” from The Andy Griffith Show was a fictional story that I watched a while back. It doesn’t really matter what names you fill in. It doesn’t really matter how it started. Whenever you get to a point in your life where you can’t get along with a neighbor or family member. There is always a price to pay.

I bought a small house in Albuquerque, it was a small neighborhood. We had fences but it was hard not to hear your neighbors when they were out in the back yard. Arguments seemed to spill out of the house when things got out of hand. Cops were called and tempers flared.

I went for a walk and noticed my neighbor was doing some illegal activity, not hurting anyone, except himself. I thought it was my duty to let him know, and I did. Whoops. Did I start something! He then accused me of something he didn’t like in my yard. I could see a big red flag waving in my face and knew I had better resolve this quick. I called him and asked if I could come and talk. He didn’t give me a chance to say anything. The **** hit the fan and I got it smack in the face. I probably deserved it.  He said a lot of things, I remember feeling a little overwhelmed at his anger. One thing I heard him say was, “You are on a slippery slope.” He said a lot of other things, most of them I forgot. I didn’t forget the feeling that I had during that week, when we traded insults and threats. I felt terrible. Couldn’t seep at night worrying that my truck might be vandalized or worse. Fortunately for me, I am a quick learner. I went to his house, hat in hand, and admitted to being wrong. I apologized and said that I would be a good neighbor and that it would not happen again.

Funny thing about feuds, at least in my case. Once I admitted to being human and apologized to him, he became a good friend. He helped me out on a broken water pipe and I was able to help him when he needed some support when his father’s health was taking a toll on his own health. He had given up a regular job so he could bring his father into his home and take care of him. Full time care of someone who is sick is a big responsibility. His only outlet was this little bit of illegal activity in his back yard. I could tell when things got bad, I could see the rising smoke coming from next door and I could smell the odor. I would call over the fence and we would have a visit. With a 6 foot fence, I couldn’t see anything, but we could visit and share bits of life. He and I talked that way for the next couple of years. It was much better than trading insults or worse.

As for the Hound dogs and tow trucks, time will tell. There are already lawsuits. Others are being drawn into this drama. I can watch from a safe distance and be so grateful for that first red flag that tipped me off in my life. I heeded that caution and I was able to make a potential enemy my friend. I need all the friends I can get. Life can be a challenge at times. Slippery slopes are hard to navigate so I go out of my way now to find the peaceful path. 

Friends and Potatoes

It is time to harvest the potatoes, and so out to the garden I went with hat and shovel in hand. I started digging to see how the potatoes had grown this year. I was pleased to see how well they had done. They ranged in size from small to huge. I bought seed potatoes last spring and cut each potato into pieces. It is important to have at least 2 or 3 eyes in each cut piece so that the new potato plant will grow. Each potato depending on it’s size when cut will make 6 or 8 new plants. In the spring time I prepared the soil and made my rows so I could plant the potatoes. This year I made waves for my rows and I raked the soil into hills to plant the potatoes. I watch and tended my garden and watered regularly. Soon each new potato sprouted and began to grow and thrive. There were weeds that grew and I had to remove them to allow the plants to grow. The plants matured and soon flowered with fragrant blossoms. The bees were busy pollenating the potatoes and I knew that I would soon be able to dig new potatoes. My peas were late and so the traditional new potatoes and peas dinner was postponed until later in the summer. I spent all day yesterday digging those potatoes, cleaning, sorting, and storing them in my cellar. I threw out the ones that had been frozen from an early frost several weeks ago. Some were spoiled and I knew that if I put the bad ones with the good ones, that the bad potatoes would spoil the good ones. Last night as I was resting and checking my email, I read an email from a “friend” who was asking to be my friend on facebook.   He was one of my childhood friends and we had spent many good times enjoying camping and scouting as boys. As we grew older and entered high school, we drifted apart. He and I had different interests.  I went down my path, and he, his. Over the years, we ran into each other occasionally, but the distance was still there. Our friendship was not maturing and growing, but becoming distanced and strained. It has been over 40 years that I have known this “friend” and so I felt some connection and loyalty. 6 months ago he had requested to be a friend on facebook and I had accepted the request. It only took a few weeks to see that he was not my friend at all. There were unkind opinions expressed by him, unfriendly comments, and I felt like a target. One day I noticed that he had unfriended me. So, a couple of weeks ago when he asked to be my friend again, I chose this time not to friend him. I sent a note to him explaining why. When I read his email, I was surprised at his negative response, but only a little. My “friend” reminds me of the potatoes that I had to throw out. They all started out with the same opportunity to grow and mature into new and thriving plants but somewhere during the season disease or stress cause the potatoes to develop poorly, making them unusable. Friends are like potatoes. We need to dig, clean and sort through our potatoes knowing which are good for us and knowing those which will make our lives diseased. Sometimes even with all our efforts, potatoes get diseased and we are not able to help them. It is then that we have to make a choice, separate the potato and allow the rest to thrive or keep the disease and harm the harvest. I had a good harvest this year. I only had to throw out a few potatoes. I was able to share with neighbors and I have ample to keep me through the winter.   I hope that I will be a good friend and “spud” to all my friends who have helped me through my seasons. 

To be a friend that is worth saving ...that is my goal 

Dick Tracy Watches

Dick Tracy was a cartoon character invented by Chester Gould. The strip made its debut in Oct. of 1931. 

As I was growing up in Utah, I used to spend summers in Escalante, where my grandparents lived. I would go out at night with my flashlight and catch night crawlers. I would sell these worms to anyone who wanted to go fishing. 25 cents a dozen. I started at 15 cents a dozen but since I had no competition, I raised the price to 25 cents. I was able to have spending money to buy the things that I wanted. One of those things was comic books. I would go down to Whities cafe and read them for hours before deciding. They let kids do that back then. If you needed to find me, that’s where I would be. 

Dick Tracy was the superhero of another generation. A story of the good guys against the bad guys. It was great fun to read the latest adventure of Dick Tracy. He used forensic science and gadgets to solve his mysteries. Sounds kind of familiar, doesn’t it?

I always thought it would be cool to have one of his gadgets, the famous 2-way wrist Radio. How everyone would envy me.

I was living in Huntington Beach, California in 1980 when that wish came true. I enrolled in a Ham Radio course taught by Gordon West in the community college. I learned the Morse Code and the rules of the FCC. I took the test and passed. I got my novice license, and with that license I purchased a 2-meter radio. I upgraded my license to a Tech, then a General and finally the Advance class license. With my version of Dick Tracy’s radio, I could talk to my friends across the state without using the phone. I carried that radio everywhere with me. I had a headset, that enabled me to ride my bike down the sidewalks along the beach and keep watch. I volunteered in the civil defense program that the city had and when they needed help, I would be called. Cell phones were still on the drawing boards. There were a few people who had bag phones and car phones, but they were rare. I remembered one of the lessons by Gordon West. He showed how the high frequencies could burn you if you got too close to the antenna. A high frequency burn. I was cautious when I got other radios and set up the antenna systems on my roof. I talked to others like me, all over the globe. It was a great hobby.

I have never forgotten the lessons that I learned in that Ham Radio Class.

I heard of great gadget to catch worms. It seemed like a good idea, so I got the parts and made some electric shockers. It really worked. You put the wires in the ground and plugged in the cord and in a couple of minutes the worms were wiggling up through the dirt. All you had to do was to pick them up. There was a problem though, the worms all died in a short time. I had electrocuted them. 

Have you ever tried to fry an egg on a hot sidewalk in the middle of the summer when the sidewalk was so hot you couldn’t walk on it? I have. That didn’t work.

The microwave oven could cook an egg and it does. Every day millions of people use them to cook dinners and make popcorn.

The microwave oven was invented after world war 2, developed by Raytheon from radar technology. Tappan developed the units but they were still too large and expensive for general home use. The countertop microwave oven was first introduced in 1967 by the Amana Corporation.

Most of us have a microwave oven now, they are cheap and do a good job of heating things. There is a problem with them. They kill the food and the vitamins and change the properties of the food. I read about a science class project done by a grade school girl. Here is the link: www.snopes.com/science/microwave/plants.asp

She took purified water and divided it into 2 parts. The first part she heated to boiling in a pan, after cooling, she watered one plant. The second part she heated using the microwave to boiling and after cooling, she watered the second plant. Want to guess what happened? The microwaved water killed the second plant after only a few days.

Now ... here is the big problem. Cell phones use microwave technology. You wouldn’t even consider putting your head in a microwave oven and turning it on ... would you? That is in essence, what happens every time you use your cell phone. Studies have been done showing cell phones are safe. Do you know who pays for those studies? I do.

How long will it take to kill us? The results are already beginning to show up. It is not mainstream news, it rarely gets the coverage it deserves. Tumors. Some people who use cell phones are getting tumors on their bodies. Usually on the side of the head where the phone is used the most, or on the side of the body where the phone is carried. Cell phones are always on. The only way to turn them off is to remove the battery. They are always searching for a signal, a microwave signal. They respond with a microwave signal. Hmmmm?

I am one of the few people who don’t carry a cell phone. I have been tempted. They have so many cool gadgets built into them. I learned a lesson 31 years ago in that Ham Radio class. When you play with microwaves, you get burned. 

Dick Tracy has faded from the comic strips now, most people have never even heard of him. His famous two way wrist radio lives on. We now call it a cell phone. I hope that we don’t fade away like those good old comic strips. We would never put our head in a microwave oven ... would we? 

Deer, Mole Hills and Puncture Weeds

I went out to let the chickens out of their coop this morning and noticed that the moles had been active during the night and had built up a number of new mole hills. I was even more amazed that all the hills were outside my fence. 

I laughed and was so grateful that they had listened to me when I asked them not to make any mole hills in my lawn this year.  ...  I made a deal with them, I said, If you will stay out of the lawn and not tear up my yard, I will leave you alone and not trap you. It was a simple request, no elaborate ceremony or demand, just an agreement between neighbors.

I am surprised when some are so upset when the animals or native species in an area do what they do naturally. We are the ones who have encroached on their homes. We are the settlers who have built our homes, sometimes without regard to the locals, in areas that we deem as ours. 

I also made a deal this year with the weeds in my garden. I stood in my newly tilled soil and decided I was not going to be a slave to the weeds. I would allow the natural process of nature to take place. I made them an offer. I said, “Weeds, I will allow you to stay here in my garden if you will not grow any taller than the vegetables that I am growing here.” There were a few that didn’t listen, but for the rest, they followed my offer. There were weeds, but the vegetables flourished in spite of the weeds. I had much more freedom to do what I wanted and there was no struggle with pulling every weed that grew.

I just finished harvesting my garden this fall, I had plenty for me and enough to share with friends. The moles stayed out of my grass, I had some mole hills in the garden, but they did not harm to the vegetables. 

The deer are now in my yard, they are eating the apples and pears that fell on the ground. I left some for them knowing that they had been doing this for many years. They are beautiful to watch and as they effortlessly leap over my fence, I send them my love and invite them back whenever they are in the neighborhood. The sunflowers that I grew are still standing, food for the birds when the weather gets colder.

I feel good about my neighbors, I honor them and they honor me. I am grateful that I did not have to make a mountain out of a mole hill. I did not have to spray with poisons, or cuss with anger, or spend countless hours weeding, I was able to see life for what it had offered me. An opportunity to find balance in all things.

The puncture weeds? I am still working that out with them. They have an unfair advantage, they seem to be countless. Most of them are outside the fence, they get stuck in my shoes when I have to go out, but I stop at the gate and pull them out before entering the yard. When I looked up Goat head weeds, I found some interesting things, they are hard to kill with natural methods. I tried to burn them. It seemed to make them mad and they doubled their efforts to grow. One method for control is to plant other grasses or plants in their space, they don’t like competition and will die out. Another method is to ingest them.  ...  Yes, eat them. They produce a mild aphrodisiac effect. That may be my answer to getting rid of the goat head weeds. With all the hype of the media and the “ask your doctor” ads on TV, maybe I should take out my own advertisement.  NOTICE: IF YOU ARE LIMPING ALONG IN YOUR LOVE LIFE, CALL ME. I HAVE THE ANSWER. note:  BRING YOUR OWN HOE     1-800-GOAT-HEAD

Dark Clouds ...

Have you ever noticed how some people always have some kind of drama going on around them? They seem to attract dark clouds that follow them through life. Remember the character from Charlie Brown, Pig Pen?  I am continually amazed at those who complain so much, that they are not able to see the hammer in one hand, while hitting their own thumb on the other hand. Then they wonder why their thumb hurts so much. 

I have noticed as I have gone through life that there is a wide variety of human beings on this planet. We are all different in our own way. We learn in our own way and we experience life in our own way. Most want to be loved, and cared about. Each of us wants to be accepted and appreciated by our associates.

I can see that over the years, my circle of friends have changed. Friends that I once thought would be there for me no matter what, are now gone. Some have moved away from me and some I have moved away from. Distance seems to be less of a barrier to keeping in touch with friends, now that the internet is here. We move for a variety of reasons, usually to dissociate ourselves from old friends, old jobs.  Sometimes to find new friends and new jobs. My definition of a true friend has been altered over the years. I can see that my current friends and I have the same interests. We talk about similar topics and laugh at the same kind of jokes. We feel comfortable to be able to cry together when life teaches us hard lessons. We love one another for who and what we have become. When I see my old friends, and hear about them and what they are doing, I don’t want to be around them anymore. They probably feel the same about me. It is a natural thing to surround yourself with things that you like, friends who make you feel good, foods that satisfy your hunger and hobbies that make life more enjoyable. 

When old friends contact me and want to catch me up on the events of their lives. I listen. They talk about the latest joke they have played on someone, they tell me about a movie that scared them to death. They talk about their poor health, doctors appointments, unfair family members and the coworkers they can’t stand. I wish them well in their lives and then leave.  I want to separate myself from them and these old ways. They are no longer a part of my life. Focusing and reliving the negative parts of our lives only strengthens those old ways and the dramas that seem to be never ending. It makes me sad to see these old friends so unhappy in their lives. They wonder why life has been so unfair to them.

I think back on my own life and the changes that I have made. There was a time when I thought the world was so unfair. I wanted a better car, a better job, more of this, more of that, and just plain more of everything. One day I stood out under the open sky, way out in a field in Kansas, and I cursed God.   “God Damn it!”   I said. “Why is my life so unhappy?  Why can’t I have all the things of this world that will make me happy?”   ...  That didn’t seem to help at all.

I watched the movie Pollyanna around that time. It was a kids movie, I thought, but I will watch it. It was the only thing on TV of interest. I watched as this positive child looked for the good in people, in life. Others made fun of her view of life, but she didn’t care.

I began to see where I had misinterpreted the events in my life. I could see the dark cloud trailing me and the dust from my own path obscuring my vision. It took months of change and processing before I could see the good in my own life again. The good had been there the whole time, I just couldn’t see it. It was all around me. I had allowed my own dust to obscure all the good that was in my life. It was a pivotal moment for me.  It took some major changes, most of them being my own perspective of life. Soon, I noticed that I was feeling better about myself and my work and my life. Others noticed too. It was a good feeling to finally feel good about my self again.

I still see my old friends occasionally. There is a dust cloud following them. I can see an old part of myself in them. The way I used to be. I want to say something to them and sometimes I do. I am careful when I do this because I don’t want my old friends to become enemies. I know that each of us must see for ourselves, and when it comes to a point in our lives where it just hurts too much to continue the old ways   ...   That is when we put down our hammer and change. For the better. Better for us, better for our friends and better for life.

Creating Sacred Space ...

Returning home from picking up my rough sawn lumber, I sat and pondered my life and how I would use this lumber to enhance my outdoor space. I have a creative part of me that wants to make things around me better. Some times when sleep fails me at night, I ponder projects that I would like to do. I guess it is this creative part of me that makes life more interesting for me. When I come up against something that I don’t understand, I find that the answers come to me in a flash of inspiration from depths that I am only now beginning to understand. I wanted to create a place of peace and privacy, without shutting out the abundance of life around me. The energy of the trees has blessed my life in many ways and for that reason I chose locally cut pine from a family owned saw mill here in Southern Utah. I am aware that my neighbors and family are watching my changes here in this pioneer home and they often comment on my improvements. Mostly in a positive response. I wanted to create a private space that would give me a place to relax and enjoy the sunshine without offending my neighbors. I feel closest to nature when I am able to immerse myself fully in the experience. I find that living in a community makes this more difficult. Creating a sacred space in my yard meant that I needed to build a fence to allow that experience. The Sun is a very healing part of life for me and I enjoy the warmth and radiance of the sun as I bathe in myself in that life giving energy and allow those rays to soak into my skin, into my soul. I have spent these past years tearing down fences that I have built in my life ... fences to protect me from the harsh side of humanity. As my inner soul has awakened me to trusting again, I have slowly removed the barriers and the barbed wire caging me inside my own prison. I have been able to breathe in the clean air and the invigorating scent of life again. With this in mind I set out to create a sacred space in my outer world, not to shut out the world, but buffering the amount I would allow to enter into my world. This time I would build a gate to allow life to enter, at the same time keep out that part of life that was offense to me ... placing the height of the fence high enough allow me to walk freely in peace but not so high as to keep out the beauty around me. Sometimes living in the world I find that it is a necessary protection for me to live within my sacred enclosures, allowing me to leave and enter when necessary. One day there will be a time when all will be sacred space and no longer will there be a need for fences. Until that time I will buffer the harsher parts of life and protect me from those who do not understand my view of life ...  The blessing of the pine tree is “Balance and creativity.”  From my sacred space to yours ... Blessings and Peace.

Choices

I woke up today with a pain in my neck, I have had it for a couple of months. I lay in bed thinking back over the past days and weeks, trying to pinpoint how I might have caused the pain. 

I look at pain differently now. I used to pop an Advil or an Excedrin, and write it off as the cost of living. I would go to the doctor and rely on his diagnosis and treatment. 

When life was getting me down and I was blaming everyone else for my problems I had pain more often. Physical and emotional pain.

I got to a point where I was unable to find relief for the pains that I experienced. This was around the time that I was shouting at God in the field to make life better for me.

I was introduced to a book by a wise friend who told me that it was helping her to solve her pains. I was ready for that book, I was tired of hurting. I began to read, it was an approach that I hadn’t thought of before. It was not western medicine, but came from a holistic way of looking at myself.

The book is called, “Feelings Buried Alive Never Die...” The author is Karol K. Truman. I didn’t like what I read. Pain and disease comes from my self? I wasn’t ready to hear that. 

More Excedrin. 

The problem with Excedrin is that it works for a while and then it doesn’t. I was taking 6 or 8 at a time to get rid of my headaches and it wasn’t working any more. 

Living in rural Kansas before internet access, I would go to the library and use their computers. While reading about pain and headaches, I came across an article about rebound headaches and possible causes. It told me that Excedrin has caused headaches and you should avoid regular use. Hmm?

That article was linked to another and another until I came across one called Western Medicine. As I read I was amazed to learn the origins and the treatments. Western Medicine was modeled after the German Model of Health.  What is that? It has taken me through many books to understand more about our mode of Western Medicine. Western Medicine developed out of the experimentation in Nazi Germany and the concentration camps. Drugs, Pharmaceuticals, torture, and death. It was not easy reading. Our government promised amnesty to those Doctors who would share the results of their work. They were offered new lives and brought to America.

Some of their treatments work, at least for a while.  Many of our doctors are now the modern distributers of legal drugs. Drug Pushers. When the evening news airs each day, you can be assured that it will be brought to you by the latest drugs and endorsed by doctors who are waiting for you to ask them about getting those new drugs.

A Few years ago a book was being promoted on TV, one of those infomercials that lasts for 30 minutes. I watched those 30 captivating minutes and then ordered the book. Kevin Trudeau, Natural Cures “THEY” Don’t want you to know About. 

If you tell me not to do something, you can be assured that I am going to find out more about what you don’t want me to know. Kevin Trudeau tells about age old methods that have been used to cure disease and cancer. He names items that cause sickness, items that most of us use every day.

I have used these two books to help me find answers when I have pain. They are a starting place for me to find clues for my own self-treatment. Whether that pain is internal or external, I can usually find the cause and most often that cause is me. 

It is not always easy to look at myself as being the cause of my problems, but I have found that to find a cure for my dis-ease, I must find the reason for it from within myself. I can choose to treat the symptoms or I can choose to treat the cause.

Western Medicine has its place. There are amazing advances being made by honest and integral doctors. 

I have a doctor client who has hired me to do work in his home. He is a family doctor, he likes to run and bike and competes in marathons. I asked him about the drugs and his treatments. He told me that when he offers alternative treatment options for patients, that many turn him down. They would rather have a drug to treat a symptom, than to make the effort to change their life style or diet. He has to prescribe the only option left. Drugs.

I looked up neck pain in my books, it is a place for me to start looking for answers, internal answers. 

“Moving under pressure” - Hmm, maybe ...

“Want to let feelings out but don’t dare” - Hmm, I working on that ...

“Inflexible state of mind” - Hmm, I hope I have dealt with that ...

“Not wanting to yield to opinions you think are wrong” - Hmm, probably ...

“Non-acceptance and rejection of others” - Hmm, a childhood fear ...

Possible treatments - 

Look within ................Hmm?

Or - 

Treat the outer - with

Peppermint

DMSO

Basil

Wintergreen

Helichrysum

Massage Therapy

Chiropractor

The choice is always up to us. 

Do I want to treat the real cause or medicate the symptom? 

Today I will look within, to make sure I have done all that I can from the internal part of myself. Then I will use some peppermint oil with a percussion massager. When my massage therapist reads this, she will know that I will soon be calling for another hands on treatment. Sometimes it is necessary to have someone give a helping hand to discover the cause of our symptoms. 

Carpets and outhouses

I live in a pioneer house built by my great, great, grandfather, Joseph Spencer. It was built around 1880 and was one of the first here in this area. There is much history in this old house. Many memories, not only of mine but so many others. There have been several additions added on over the years. Additions to accommodate the needs of my ancestors. The last one I think is the most important. Sometime around 1940 water was furnished to the homes here and indoor plumbing was added. Thank God for progress. Thanks to the foresight and needs of a changing society I can sit in comfort and enjoy a hot shower.

I look at all the changes and improvements that have been made in my home over the years and I can appreciate all of them. I have been in the building trade now for over 40 years. I have been able to update and improve other homes and I have enjoyed that creative part of me. I am mostly retired now, but now and again I do a project for someone. I can do most anything, but I have my favorites. Plumbing is not one of them, especially if it has to do with the sewer. Yecch.

I have looked at some of the projects that I would like to do here, some are easy and some would be a major undertaking. The adobe walls are mostly intact or hidden under layers of wall paper. I discovered that when cracks appeared in the walls or ceiling that they were often repaired with cotton cloth soaked in flour paste. Simple but effective. I have thought about stripping the walls down to the original surface but in doing so, I would remove the character of this old home. I was asked by my cousin if the hammer shaped crack was still on my ceiling in the bedroom. It is. I am hoping that the whole ceiling doesn’t fall on me one night. Then again, I do have the ancient secret family recipe for repair of an old home like mine. Cotton cloth soaked in flour paste.

I look at the carpet and marvel that it is almost as old as I am. It was installed sometime in the 50’s. It is in amazing shape considering it is so old. Kind of like me. When my grandparents had the carpet installed, they paid for the best they could afford. Wool. It has held up well and 5 generations of family have learned to love the charm that this old carpet adds. Many of the original items that have disappeared over the years. Some to this family and some to another. With each disappearing item, a little bit of the charm is lost. I am in the process of recovering some of the original pieces. My mother has me on her “list” to inherit some furniture that was built by my great, great, grandfather. I just received  some original photos that belonged to some of my ancestors. I plan to post these on a family site. Why is it that ownership of original family history is so important to some? Most often they end up in drawers forgotten. I say share the family photos and the family secrets. This is the real wisdom of the departed. Lets learn from the mistakes as well as the accomplishments of those who came before us.

I have been grateful to be in my old home. It is comfortable, like a well worn pair of shoes. It is very forgiving and needs little care. Still some changes are good, like the indoor plumbing. I don’t miss that old outhouse, I did use it when the modern one in the house was busy, but it is now gone. I can still visit it if I want. It is now in my neighbors orchard. They got half of the property when my grandparents died. My Aunt and Uncle have been good neighbors and we share and help one another. The fence, well that is still a tender subject. We talk almost every day and laugh and share tools.

My old wool carpet? It stays for now. Many, many memories in that old carpet. 

Jesus rides a Harley

Just a few weeks after I married Pearlene in 1994, I happened to be in a video store looking for a movie to rent. I was in the action movies looking for something to watch and she was in the romance section looking for old classics. I didn’t pay close attention when the bikers came in the store, they were browsing through the selections of movies. They were wearing leather and looked a bit intimidating.

My marriage to Pearlene was magical. We connected on every level. She was living life from her heart and was in tune with all of life.

There was an earlier time in my life when I was not in tune with life. It was 1974. I was 21, single and riding my motorcycle down west center in Provo Utah. My brother and friend had gone to the Yamaha showroom with me a few days earlier to look at the new models. They were there to help me choose a motorcycle.  All three of us ended up buying motorcycles.  We were riding those bright yellow motorcycles toward the lake on this day. I was riding without a helmet and probably speeding. I heard the siren from behind me, I looked back and saw a Provo cop with his lights on. He pulled over my friend and motioned for him to stay on the side of the road. He next came after my brother who was behind me, I saw my brother pull off the road and then he sped towards me. From half a mile back, I watched my friend turn around and head towards the city. The cop saw it too and he turned around and took off after him. My brother and I headed towards the lake, we made our way back through town and were near the state mental hospital when I heard the siren again, it was the same cop. Our bright yellow motorcycles stood out on the road and he was still mad from loosing us earlier near the lake. It cost me a ticket and a traffic safety course. 

When Pearlene came to the counter with her movie, she waited for me to bring my choice, I thought she looked different. We compared movies and decided on her choice instead of mine. We sat in the truck for a minute in silence. I asked her why she was so quiet. She said, did you see the motorcycle riders? I said that I had. She said, did you see the guy with long hair? I told her no, I had been busy looking at the movies. She told me when she first saw them, she began to judge them because of their long hair and clothing. One man with piercing eyes turned and looked at her. In those few seconds that she looked into his eyes she felt a spiritual lightening within her. Her spirit recognized his spirit. It was the same long hair, the same piercing eyes ... but this time his clothing was different. 

We sat in silence for several minutes as the impact of that event sunk in. Our eyes welled up with tears and we held hands. A miracle happened ...

There are many who walk among us, who pass by and give us a smile or pause to look into our souls. We each have guardians, angels, and guides who help us every day. We don’t notice them most of the time. We take it for granted when an accident is avoided because we missed the light, or the driver just ahead gets hit in the intersection ... Our little voice reminds us that we left something unsaid to a loved one, allowing us to pause and give them a smile or a hug. We are watched over and protected each day as we drive to work or travel dangerous paths.

My motorcycle days didn’t last very long, my bike was always in the shop being repaired. It was a yellow lemon. My inner voice tried to tell me that night in the Yamaha showroom to walk out. I silenced that little voice and bought the bike anyway.  I paid for it twice with all the repairs. In the year I had it, it was in the motorcycle repair shop 6 months. I learned a lesson about listening to that little voice. It cost me four thousand dollars but it was worth it. 

That night in Fairview, Utah, I saw Jesus ride a Harley. I am careful now to not judge another because of the hair or the clothing. I listen to that little voice, I pay attention to my feelings and when someone smiles at me or looks into my eyes, I wonder ... I am still hoping to see that Harley again, I would like another chance to look into those piercing eyes and recognize my brother ...