Go Utes! / Go Cougars!

I was happy to see that both Utah and BYU won their games again this week. I hope they both continue undefeated until they meet each other in late November. Though that will be a great game, I will not watch it because I do not want to jinx the Cougars' chance of winning.

(Historically BYU loses football games that I happen to watch. When they won what came to be known as the Miracle Bowl back in the 1980s, I had been watching on our little black-and-white TV until Grandma and Grandpa Lange showed up from southern California and I quit watching and the final-quarter miracle happened and the Y emerged victorious.)

What is all that white stuff?

A headline in this morning's Deseret News proclaimed "Snow falls on N. Utah - more skiff than blanket." The skiff in our backyard at 10:00 this morning measured 6 inches deep. Given the relative warmth of the ground still, a lot more than that had to fall to result in an accumulation of 6 inches.

What was that again?

I guess I need to pay better attention to the news. Somehow I totally missed the little fact this past week that Iceland has gone bankrupt. Oops!

A quick trip to Washington

Friday evening, October 3, Claudia and I flew from Salt Lake to Seattle. Becca had kindly driven Mom to the airport. (I had driven to work and went to the airport straight from there and parked our pickup in long-term parking, since our return would be near midnight on Sunday, and it didn't seem right to ask anyone to come get us at such an hour.)

Our flight was uneventful, which is precisely what you want when you're in an airplane.

It was raining when we landed in Seattle, apparently the first time it had done so in quite a while. The freeway traffic was heavier and slower than Camilla had expected, so we had to wait 20 or more minutes for her and Sam to pick us up. We were happy to see them again, and we drove from the airport (which is south of Seattle) to their home in Everett (which is north of Seattle), listening over and over and over to Sam's favorite song about a happy elephant.

Sam, who is now two, seems so much more grown up and talks a lot, although not always in the same intelligible English we are used to. He is a happy little boy. And was very excited to see his grandma and grandpa.

Chris had finished Camilla's shift at their Great Harvest bakery so she could come get us, but he was home by the time we reached their apartment in Everett. We visited and ate and went to bed.

Chris worked early Saturday morning. Camilla fixed us breakfast. We called to wish Peter a happy second birthday. He was having a great day. Then, before the morning session of conference began, we walked over to the bakery so Mom could be taken on the grand tour. (Although it rained much of the day, it was not raining when we walked over to see the bakery.) We returned to their apartment and somewhat listened to the first half of the morning session of conference, but the Internet connection kept dropping, so we went to their stake center to listen to the final hour of the opening session.

We got sandwiches from the bakery for lunch. Chris stayed with Sam while he took his nap, and Camilla, Mom, and I went to the stake center again to watch the afternoon session. Their stake center, far closer to the apartment than the building where their ward meets, is just on the other side of I-5, so it only takes about 5 or 10 minutes (depending on how you hit the lights) to get there.

Reference was made in the afternoon session to five new temples announced in the morning session. We had not heard the announcement, so we called Michael (actually we called Eliza first, but she didn't answer her phone) to find out where they were. He told us they were in Calgary, Cordoba (Argentina), somewhere in the Kansas City area, Philadelphia, and Rome (Italy).

Chris and I went to the priesthood session together. Afterward I took everyone out to dinner. Originally we were going to try the Olive Garden, but the 45-minute anticipated wait seemed too long, so we went to Red Robin instead. Their wait was only supposed to be 5 or 10 minutes, but actually it was much longer. And then it seemed to take a long time for our food to come after we had ordered it, and Chris's and Camilla's burgers were actually cold, and they complained about that, so the waiter took theirs back and brought hot ones the second time, and then the manager came out to apologize, and Chris told him he was the owner of the Great Harvest next door, and the manager said he'd never been over there but meant to, and they invited him to come, and he didn't charge us at all for their two meals, and it was all so wonderful.

We tried calling Margaret for her first birthday, not that she would really have known we were calling, but Rachael did not answer her phone. So we hope little Margaret had a wonderful day. Vince and Mary had gone up to help them all celebrate.

Sunday morning we participated in the Taylor family tradition of having breakfast burritos for the Sunday morning of general conference. Then we listened to the morning session streaming over the computer. It worked fine for the morning session, but it deteriorated again for the afternoon session and, though we talked about going to the stake center again, we just toughed it out at home and heard much but not all of the session.

Sam was still taking his afternoon nap, so Camilla took Mom and me on a little driving tour of the Everett and Mukilteo area. Chris and Camilla fixed us a delicious dinner that consisted of Parmesan chicken, mashed potatoes, salad, and fruit. And cookie dough ice cream for dessert. Yummy. Then around 6:30 we all left for the airport. It was raining some, but the traffic was good, and we got to the airport a little earlier than we actually needed to. And then our plane left about a half hour later than its scheduled 8:30 departure. They must have flown faster than they would have otherwise, because we landed in Salt Lake pretty close to our scheduled 11:25 arrival. We were home by about midnight.

It had been a delightful weekend. We appreciated visiting with Chris, Camilla, and Sam. We were grateful for the spiritual uplift from general conference. And, as always, it all went by so quickly.

So I repent already

In my last, hasty post, I reported that my Congressman (Rob Bishop) had voted for the bailout package. I was in error. He actually voted against it. According to the Salt Lake Tribune on September 29,

Bishop believes the government needs to take some action, but he thought the approach was misguided and unnecessarily rushed.

"The solution needs to be more market-driven rather than based on taxpayer liability." Bishop said, "We are in a tough financial spot, and things could get worse fast, but Congress is acting too quickly based on what you've really got to admit is an artificial deadline." Bishop wants the amount of taxpayer money lowered from its current $700 billion cap, and he also wants Congress to bolster a provision that encourages Wall Street to buy government insurance instead of taking taxpayer cash.

I can live with that sort of thinking. So, I guess I'll have to vote for him after all.

Enough foolishness already

I have not used this blog before now to comment on political/economic stuff, but there seems to be far too much misinformation and fear and outright nonsense floating around out there, particularly in the news media, for me to forebear on this occasion. I do not begin to presume that I understand what is going on (does anyone really?), but it seems increasingly clear that many economists and politicians and media commentators do not.

Something President Franklin D. Roosevelt said in his first inaugural address in 1933 seems appropriate today: "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

AARP, which I happen to be a member of, invited me to comment on their blog about how terrible it was that Congress did not pass the bailout package yesterday. I respectfully disagree with the position implied in the question they posted: "Is failure to take action on the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression really an option?" This is what I posted:

"Let's be profoundly grateful that the bill did not pass yesterday. It was a very bad idea. There are saner ways to stabilize the markets without saddling taxpayers (that means us and our kids and grandkids) with such horrendous debt. My Republican representative voted for the bill, and he therefore does not get my vote this November.

"This is a great time to be investing. And it's simple really, something my parents taught me years ago: buy low, sell high. Stocks happen to be on sale right now. I wish I could afford to invest even more than I am right now."

A new house

Mom and I, accompanied by Rachael and her girls, went this morning to see Pete and Anna's new house in the Sugarhouse area of Salt Lake. The house dates from 1940. It is one of those sturdy, well-built homes with some measure of actual character, such as were built in this area in the waning years of the Great Depression just before the United States became engulfed in World War II.

It appears to be in a lovely, well-kept neighborhood along 1700 East, not too awfully far from Sugarhouse Park. (If you visit the Family Address Book, you can see their actual new address, their new ward and stake, and new Church meeting times.)

They have a deep back yard, a separate one-car garage, and a covered back patio area next to the garage. The three-bedroom house has a finished basement (two bedrooms on the main level, one in the basement) and two somewhat recently renovated bathrooms. The small kitchen has been completely redone in a style that is either reminiscent of (or actually from) Ikea. So totally Pete and Anna.

Mom thoughtfully took them as house-warming gifts some fresh-cut flowers and a large package of toilet paper (always a necessity at any house, especially when things from a previous residence are still being found and unpacked).

They closed on the house on Thursday, moved much of their stuff yesterday, and were finishing moving this morning. Today is Pete and Anna's second wedding anniversary.

I hope either Pete or Anna posts some pictures of their new home because no amount of verbal description would do it sufficient justice.

The circle of life

Just outside my office window I have watched a pine tree grow to maturity through the years I have worked here. In earlier times the tree was much shorter, and the top barely reached my third-floor window. In later years it pretty much filled the window and blocked the view.

Today during lunch hour we watched in fascination as a young lumberjack climbed the tree and with a chainsaw eliminated branches and cut off the top and worked his way back down, cutting sections of the remaining trunk as he descended. It was both fascinating and sad.

The tree is now gone, but we now have an unobstructed view of Temple Square and its magnificent temple.

I remember years ago when Claudia grieved over a large pine tree our neighbors removed. Were that tree still there, we would not enjoy the view out our kitchen window that we have of the Bountiful Temple on the foothills to our east.

A journey through medieval Europe

I just took an interesting journey through medieval times, beginning with the period we commonly refer to as the dark ages and on through the centuries of European history up through the Renaissance and the Reformation and Ferdinand Magellan's incredible journey to circumnavigate the world. It was not a pretty place to live. Over and over I felt grateful that our turn on earth came in an age of enlightenment and advancement and Restoration and freedom, although I recognize that many on our planet still live in impoverished circumstances or under totalitarian regimes that echo the bondage of past ages.

My journey was through the pages of a remarkable book that I finished last night entitled A World Lit Only by Fire: The Medieval Mind and the Renaissance: Portrait of an Age, by William Manchester, a professor of history emeritus at Wesleyan University in Middletown, Connecticut. (The book was published by Bay Back Books / Little, Brown and Company: New York, 1993.) It was a compelling read that kept me engaged through all 296 pages of the text.

An apostate Christianity dominated the landscape throughout all these centuries, and from my perspective it seemed clear that a great apostasy, as the prophets and apostles abundantly foretold in the biblical record (such as in 2 Thessalonians 2:3; Acts 20:28-31; Galatians 1:6-12; 2 Thessalonians 2:7-8; 1 Timothy 4:1-3; 2 Timothy 3:1-7; 2 Timothy 4:3-4; and Jude 1:3-4), had indeed occurred. The church that emerged in both eastern and western factions bore little semblance to what the humble Galilean, the Son of God, had introduced among His disciples. The doctrines were changed, the covenants and ordinances were adulterated and then lost, the authority of heaven was clearly withdrawn, and the institution that survived resorted to corruption and force to control the minds and souls of its adherents in satanic and barbaric forms of unrighteous dominion. Falsehoods were proclaimed as truth. Freedom of conscience and expression were suppressed. Spiritual wickedness reigned in high places.

The medieval church was no friend to liberty, justice, or truth. It was no friend of heaven. I am absolutely not making any of this up (nor was William Manchester as he wrote his book). This is the church that burned people at the stake for presuming to make the holy scriptures available to people in their own tongue. This is the institution that banned or excommunicated or killed people for presuming to teach that the world was round rather than flat as the ecclesiastical hierarchy insisted. Magellan's voyage around the world changed that old flat notion, although incredibly the church would not accept that the earth was actually a sphere until after a couple more centuries had passed.

The Reformation, beginning in the early years of the sixteenth century, was a response to all the accumulated evil that masqueraded in the name of religion and was an attempt, as the very name suggests, to reform the church. But the new Protestants, as they quickly came to be called, proved every bit as ruthless and dogmatic and controlling as the old regime had been. The excesses continued. The consciences of men were still abused. The government of heaven was still missing from the earth.

It is small wonder then (and this is now not technically a part of my little book report here but a requisite postscript), that the God of heaven had to start afresh, after carefully preparing a place where freedom of thought and religion were finally available, with a new revelation from the heavens. The nature and character and attributes of God had become so confused and lost, dating from the early centuries of Christianity and canonized in confusing and false creeds that by force of sword became mainstream, orthodox belief, that the Father and the Son chose to appear again to reveal Their true nature and to begin anew the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ with its simple truths and ordinances and covenants and authority.

So, after centuries of apostasy and darkness, the heavens were opened once again on a spring morning in 1820 on the western frontier of the fledgling United States, in a marvelous theophany that verified the actual existence of God and that taught that God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ are actual, distinct, separate personages as the Bible clearly taught before its truths were obscured by the wrangling councils and creeds of later centuries.

Sadly, the philosophies of uninspired men had hijacked traditional Christianity from the simple scriptural truths taught by the Savior and His apostles. Things had gone badly wrong. A mere reformation was insufficient. A complete and total restitution or restoration of divine light and power and authority was necessary to get things back on track and to gather scattered Israel from all corners of the earth and to prepare a people, saints of the Most High God, for the imminent return of the Son of God, who this time will reign in glorious splendor as Lord of lords and King of kings. This coming millennial reign will differ in every respect from what prevailed during the dark and medieval ages portrayed by Professor Manchester in this book.

What a saint would look like

This afternoon in sacrament meeting, after my dear wife had returned to her seat on the stand, having just delivered a masterful discourse on forsaking sin and coming unto Christ, I kept trying to catch her eye from my unobstructed view on the second row of the chapel to give her a thumbs up on a job well done. She had had the Holy Spirit with her in obvious abundance as she spoke of truths central to the gospel and central to our purpose here on the earth.

As I sat looking at her, as a soloist sang a medley of sacrament hymns and during the concluding speaker, she looked positively angelic in her bright pink dress and with her head crowned with its silvery hair, and I thought to myself that that is precisely what a saint would look like. She is clearly the epitome of what a faithful Latter-day Saint woman should be, filled as she is with charity, or the pure love of Christ, and with her genuine, heart-felt and all-inclusive, all-embracing concern for the welfare and happiness of others.

Did I happen to mention that I love her very much? As our instructor in priesthood meeting observed earlier in our meetings today, when he said he had clearly married above himself, I too am humbled, grateful, and happy to be yoked to such an one as her.

The grandest journey

Forty years ago today (on Saturday, August 24, 1968) I received my mission call. The letter was signed by President David O. McKay, ninth President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It called me to the Brazilian North Mission, which had just been newly created during the month before that, and I was to report for service exactly one month later (on Monday, September 23, 1968).

In honor of the fortieth anniversary of my mission, the grandest journey of my life up to that point, I have started another new blog, this one entitled Dean's Missionary Journal, in which I will post entries from my missionary journal exactly forty years after they were originally written. A preface and an introduction have already been posted. I hope you enjoy.

Visit to Georgia (the final day)

Thursday was our last full day in the Atlanta area, and it turned into a long, full day. Before Claudia and I left the Kieffers' house this morning, we said good-bye to Kathryn and her mother in anticipation of not seeing them before the day was over. We gave Momma Lue a copy of Mormon's Book as a sort of thank-you gift for all the Kieffers' many kindnesses to us during this week we have been in Georgia.

In the afternoon we left for Mercer University to attend the White Coat Ceremony in which Paul, along with the 146 other entering students, officially became a pharmacy student and began his graduate school career. There were six of us (Claudia and I, Paul's dad and sister, and Eliza and Peter) there cheering him on. We are all so proud of Paul and wish him every best wish as he begins the four-year journey toward his doctor of pharmacy degree. The campus of his school is very beautiful.

We returned to Paul and Eliza's apartment, changed from our Sunday dress, and ate a delicious pot roast and carrots that Eliza had been cooking since morning in the crock pot.

Then all of us except Claudia (who spent a quiet evening alone working on her gospel doctrine lesson for Sunday) drove to Doraville, caught the Marta train (we think that stands for Metro Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority) to downtown Atlanta, and got off at the Five Points station. From there we walked through Underground Atlanta and caught a Marta shuttle bus to Turner Field to attend the game between the Atlanta Braves and the Chicago Cubs. Ken Kieffer had arranged tickets for us through some acquaintance at work, and they were wonderful tickets, in the center of the lower section just behind the pitcher. We had a great time. And Peter loved the experience and, at times, was proving very entertaining to people sitting all around us and again on the train ride home. The final score, by the way, was Braves 7 Cubs 11.

We got back home a little before midnight. It was after one in the morning by the time Claudia and I said our good-byes, filled Kathryn's car with gas, and returned to the Kieffers' house. We just slept in our clothes since we had to leave for the airport at four in the morning to catch our six o'clock flight home. We flew on United from Atlanta to Chicago and, after a nearly three-hour layover, from Chicago to Salt Lake City. Our final flight left Chicago about fifteen minutes early and arrived in Salt Lake more than half an hour early.

Camilla and Sam picked us up at the airport. They and Chris arrived late Thursday night from Seattle to attend Chris's sister's wedding Friday afternoon here in the Bountiful Temple. They will be here until Monday.

Visit to Georgia (continued yet again)

We spent the entire morning Wednesday at the Kieffers' house: Claudia working on her gospel doctrine lesson for Sunday School this coming Sunday, me checking stuff on the Internet, posting an account of our trip, dealing with work-related e-mails, ordering a birthday gift for Michael, etc. We visited with Mama Lue, who was in and out. Eliza had called and said she and Paul had to run a number of errands and were taking Peter with them, so we waited until after they returned.

We drove over to Paul and Eliza's apartment and ate some lunch. We had planned to go this evening to see the laser show at Stone Mountain, but Paul discovered that as of last weekend they discontinued nightly shows and only do it on weekends now that school has resumed. We considered other options and in the end, after Peter awoke from his nap, decided to go find where the temple is located. We spent some time walking around the temple grounds. We arrived probably not long after Kathryn left work. She works in the Distribution Center just behind the temple.

We returned home, fixed the hoagie sandwiches that were originally intended as our picnic supper at Stone Mountain, watched more of the Olympics, and played a board game. It was late when we finished, after ten o'clock, and drove back to Kieffers' to sleep.

Visit to Georgia (continued)

Monday came and went and still no Paul Sr. or Ashley. They were stranded still in southern California. Fortunately, they caught a nine-thirty Monday night flight (12:30 a.m. Atlanta time) and arrived here in Atlanta at about five o'clock Tuesday morning. They were very tired of having waited in airports since Sunday morning.

On Monday, after Claudia and I were up and ready for the day, we drove over to Paul and Eliza's apartment and spent the rest of the day with them. Their washing machine had apparently been damaged in the move from Utah, but Eliza did not discover that little fact until after a load of clothes had filled up with water and would not then agitate. Not good. So Paul took the machine apart and discovered that one of the springs that holds up the whole interior part of the washing machine had come off. We spent a good part of the next few hours trying to lift and reconnect it. Finally our endurance gave out and we went out to eat at a nearby Waffle House. Adeaquate to refuel us. Nothing to write home about.

We then returned and finished working on the washer, which we finally repaired, put back together, and tried to resume washing the load of clothes. Nothing happened. Some other problem keeps it from working. So we reassembled the crib in Peter's room instead.

Originally we had planned to go to a laser light show at Stone Mountain for our family home evening, but since Paul's dad and sister were not yet here we decided to postpone that and watched more of the Beijing Olympics instead. Claudia and I then drove back to Kieffers' house. We visited a little while with Kathryn and then went to bed.

On Tuesday, after Claudia and I were up for the day, we drove back over to Paul and Eliza's place (15 miles from where the Kieffers live as I clocked it on the odometer of Kathryn's car that we are using for the week). We had visited a little with Kathryn after her seminary class (which she teaches each school day from six to seven in the morning) and before she left before eight for work at the Distribution Center near the Atlanta Temple. School started here yesterday, and the first day of seminary was this morning.

We helped watch Peter while Paul and Eliza went to their ten-thirty appointment to get Georgia driver licenses and register to vote. By now Paul's dad and sister were here, recovering still from their having flown through the night and having endured waiting at airports since Sunday morning. We watched more of the televised coverage of the Olympics.

In the afternoon we all went shopping at Wal-Mart to help fill up Paul and Eliza's pantry and refrigerator. We filled three shopping carts. As our little way of helping the kids get a start here in their new home, Paul Sr. paid for what was in his cart, Claudia and I paid for what was in our cart, and Paul and Eliza paid for what was in their cart. We brought everything home, put it away, fixed a late lunch, and Claudia and I took Eliza to Sam's Club to get the few more things that were still needed.

Originally we had planned to go to a laser light show at Stone Mountain, but it started raining, so that plan was postponed once again. Apparently the rain is good, since the whole region here is in a prolonged drought.

After watching more of the Olympics, Paul and Eliza generously took us all to dinner at Tanner's, a restaurant in Suwanee, not far from Kieffers' house, for a late dinner. We got there at eight o'clock, and the restaurant closed at nine. We went there to try the fried pickles that Eliza (and Peter) love so much. They were good, as was the rest of the food we all had. The portions were huge, and we thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience. Claudia had chicken and ribs with mashed potatoes and gravy and apples and cinnamon as her two sides. I had chicken with apples served on a bed of rice with baked beans and grilled corn on the cob as sides. It was all very delicious.

We then went to Kieffers' house. Paul and Eliza came too, so they could introduce Paul Sr. and Ashley to the Kieffers and check on the tickets to the Atlanta Braves games on Thursday night that Ken can get through someone he knows at work and so Peter could play with Mattie (the Kieffers' dog). Mama Lue was back from her visit to Kansas City, and we all had a delightful visit. The Kieffers, who we consider practically as family, are so incredibly nice and helpful and generous.

Visit to Georgia

Claudia and I flew Saturday morning from Salt Lake City on a United flight to Denver. Michael kindly picked us up and dropped us off at the airport. In Denver we changed planes and continued on to Atlanta. Both flights were uneventful, which is basically what you want when you're tens of thousands of feet above the ground.

Ken Kieffer met us at the airport in Atlanta and took us to his home in Sugar Hill, which is located northeast of Atlanta. We so appreciate the Kieffers' generosity. Mary Lou is visiting in Kansas City and will be back on Tuesday. Kathryn was still at work. We waited awhile for her return, but she was delayed, so we drove over to see Paul, Eliza, and Peter, who live in nearby Duluth, about 25 minutes by car from the Kieffers' house. They have a nice two-bedroom, two-bath apartment with a generous amount of storage space in a large gated apartment community that is just off I-85. They are on the ground floor of a three-story building and are right near the rear gate that comes into the complex.

We are basically sleeping at the Kieffers' house, but Saturday night we stayed with Paul and Eliza so that we could go to their early church meetings Sunday morning. They are in the Lawrenceville First Ward with meetings from 8:30 to 11:30 in the morning. Shortly after we found their place and were given a little tour of their apartment, we went with them to their church to attend an ice cream social. They seem to live in a very friendly ward. After returning from that, we stopped at a grocery store to buy some stuff for the salad we are contributing to Sunday afternoon's meal with the Kieffers. Then we watched some of the Olympics on the new HD TV that Paul and Eliza had bought just that afternoon. Their old TV got broken during the move from Utah.

Sunday morning we attended church. Their ward has sacrament meeting first. Peter successfully went to the nursery, allowing all of us to attend Sunday School without his cute distraction, and allowing Claudia and Eliza to attend Relief Society and Paul and me to attend priesthood meeting. The previous week, Peter's first in the ward, did not go as well.

After church we returned to Paul and Eliza's place, ate sandwiches for lunch, read, took naps, took a walk through the apartment complex to feed bread crumbs to the ducks in the little lake and to see the swimming pool, the exercise room, where the garbage is compacted, etc.

The reason we were able to sleep at Paul and Eliza's on Saturday night is that Paul's dad and sister have not arrived yet. They spent all day Sunday trying (they are coming standby) and ended up at John Wayne airport in Orange County, California, based on the advice that they might have a better shot getting to Atlanta from California than from Utah, where it appears every single flight was filled. We have not heard as of this writing on Monday morning whether they made the final flight last night at 9:30 California time (12:30 a.m. Atlanta time), which would have put them arriving here sometime around 5:30 or so this morning.

Sunday evening we went to Kieffers and enjoyed a delicious chicken and salsa meal Ken had cooked in the crock pot, served with rice and corn and the salad we provided. An enjoyable meal. Even more enjoyable company. We watched some more of the Olympics. After Paul, Eliza, and Peter left to return home, we visited more with Ken and Kathryn, talked on the phone with Camilla and Sam in Everett, watched more of the Olympics, and finally went to bed.

Northwest adventure (day 9)

Thursday, August 7, 2008
Oregon, Idaho, Utah

The final day of our adventure. Our motel offered a full continental breakfast, which we ate before packing and leaving. We stopped to get stamps canceled at the Ontario post office and took pictures of the Holy Rosary Hospital where I was born nearly six decades ago.

We then drove to Nyssa, where we saw the stake center where I was baptized fifty-one years ago this week. We drove by and took pictures of the Owyhee Ward chapel, where I went to church until I was nearly ten years old. We stopped in Adrian (current population about 140 people) and took pictures of the school I attended through most of the fourth grade, had stamps canceled in our trip books, and otherwise toured the little town.

We crossed the Snake River just south of Adrian and drove the six miles to where our farm was located in the Big Bend area of eastern Oregon bordering on the State Line Road. The farm is still there, but the house, the barn, the trees are all gone. The foundation of the little house is still visible. While we were stopped taking pictures, a pickup came down the hill and stopped to see if we were having car trouble (why otherwise would a car be stopped out here in the middle of nowhere?), and when the couple in the pickup saw the camera concluded we were not having car trouble. I mentioned we were taking pictures of the place I had moved from when I was nearly ten years old. The lady in the pickup said, "Oh, the Cleverlys." I was utterly amazed that someone would remember the family from nearly fifty years ago. They said their name was Adams, I think, and that they had lived just up over the hill for many years.

I also showed them the little swimming hole just down the road where we used to swim in the drain ditch. We then continued on through Wilder and Greenleaf to Caldwell. I pointed out where my mother used to work at Simplot's. We then went to Nampa, had some stamps canceled there, and drove by the site of the old Nampa Fifth Ward building (which is no longer there), where I attended church from age ten until after my mission more than a decade later. We drove by and took pictures of Central Junior High, where I attended school when I was in the seventh, eighth, and ninth grades. We drove by the site of the Dairy Queen I worked at in high school, now occupied by a Subway, so we stopped there to eat. We drove by and took pictures of Nampa High School, where I attended school in the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth grades. We drove out south of town to see the house we moved to in 1959 when we came from Oregon. We drove by and took pictures of Scism School, where I attended the three-room school for parts of the fourth, fifth, and sixth grades. We drove by where our next house in Nampa was located on Colorado Avenue (which is no longer there). And we drove by the final house I lived in in Nampa on Ventura Drive (it is still there and looks very much the same as I remember it). Michael can remember going to that house to visit his grandparents.

We then got on I-84 and headed toward home. With a couple of rest stops, a stop in Bliss to buy gas, and a stop in Snowville, Utah, to find its post office (which had closed an hour earlier than we arrived), we reached Layton about seven-thirty. We were glad to be home.

I unloaded my stuff from Michael's minivan and put it in our minivan (which Shauna had borrowed from us while we were gone; she also filled it with gas and washed it). I ate supper with Michael and Shauna's family, spaghetti that Shauna had made, and then drove home to Bountiful. It was wonderful to see Claudia again. We called Rachael to wish her a happy birthday. She and Robert and the girls are in Illinois visiting Robert's parents and had just returned from spending a couple of days in Kentucky. Today is her thirty-third birthday.

Northwest adventure (day 8)

Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Oregon, Washington

I should mention that although I love all the trees that infest this forest we have been in, Meghan does not. She thinks there are too many trees. She has thought that ever since we arrived in western Washington last Friday afternoon. So she was glad as we left the forests of western Oregon and traveled into the more desolate parts of central and eastern Oregon.

We ate, packed, swept our yurt, checked out, and left Fort Stevens State Park and returned along U.S. 101 to Astoria and then U.S. 30 to where we crossed the Columbia River back to Longview, Washington, and then traveled down I-5 on the Washington side of the river. As we approached the Vancouver-Portland area, we took I-205, a shortcut toward I-84, crossed the Columbia River a final time, and were back in Oregon again. We then headed east along I-84 up through the scenic Colombia River Gorge with a short stop at Multnomah Falls. At The Dalles we stopped and had lunch at a KFC. It is a particular challenge finding a place to eat that will satisfy all the picky eaters in our traveling party. At Pendleton we stopped for gas. Oregon, as far as we know, is the only state in the country, where by law you cannot pump your own gas. We continued east on I-84, mile after mile after mile, entering the Mountain Time Zone again, and finally reached our destination in Ontario, the final city in Oregon.

We stayed in a Super 8 Motel, which our review panel rated as far better than the EconoLodge we had stayed in Wednesday and Thursday nights in Boise but not quite as nice as the Best Western we had stayed in Friday and Saturday nights in Everett. The yurts, which we stayed in Monday and Tuesday nights in Fort Stevens State Park, were in a different category and were a universal favorite also.

Just before going to dinner, Jacob had jumped on one of the three beds in our large room and bonked his head against Meghan's. It hurt terribly, and she was very sad. When she finally recovered we started walking over to a pizza buffet within walking distance of the motel. We stood for five or ten minutes in the parking lot waiting for Caleb to join us (Michael and Andrew were going to stay in the motel room because Michael was not hungry, and he was tired of paying for Andrew to eat when he typically would not).

While waiting for Caleb, a guy drove by us three times in a car, finally parked and got out, and asked us if everything was okay. Meghan's face was still red and puffy from her earlier crying. He wanted to know why everyone looked so unhappy and if they were okay. He asked me if I were their father. It was kind of creepy, but I guess we were glad he was tuned in to whether a couple of kids standing in a parking lot were not being held there against their will or were being abducted or some such awful thing. I wondered if he were an off-duty policeman or something.

We went on to the pizza/pasta/salad buffet and learned that on Wednesdays children eat free, so I called Michael and said he could safely bring Andrew if they wanted to come join us, which they did. Caleb proudly ate nine pieces of pizza.

After eating we returned to the motel and went swimming in their pool until it closed at ten o'clock. We then went to bed.

Northwest adventure (day 7)

Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Oregon

Our yurt is situated in a dense forest that is absolutely gorgeous and peaceful. We are somewhere between a half and three quarters of a mile from the Pacific Ocean. It is cool, damp, and foggy in the mornings. Although it is cool, it is not as cold as I anticipated it might be, and my new Malad City hooded sweatshirt that Robert and Rachael gave me for my birthday was entirely adequate. We fixed breakfast at the yurt, cold cereal and milk and orange juice for Michael and the children, a hard-boiled egg and protein shake and orange juice for me.

We drove over to the beach where the remains of the shipwrecked Peter Iredale are located. It was the first time that any of the children (except Caleb, who had been to Hawaii with Cade, Rebecca, and Mimi) had seen the ocean. We played on the beach a little, and the kids all got their shoes and socks thoroughly muddy.

The children, with Michael and I accompanying them, participated in a scavenger hunt as a part of the junior ranger program.

Next we drove over to the part of Fort Stevens State Park that included the old military installation (which started during the Civil War and was closed right after World War II) and learned about a guided tour we could take in the afternoon. Fort Stevens is the only military installation in the continental United States that has been shelled by a foreign power since the War of 1812. A Japanese submarine fired nine shots at the fort in April 1942 but caused no significant damage other than psychological among the civilian population along the west coast.

We left the park, driving toward U.S. 101 (the Pacific Coast highway) and found a Dairy Queen, where we ate lunch. We then returned for the 2:30 tour of the military installation. We rode in a 1952 military truck. Caleb and Jacob got to sit up front with the driver and got to honk the horn when we crossed bicycle paths a couple times. The rest of us sat in the covered bed in the back of the truck with the other tour participants. The tour lasted a little over an hour and was most interesting.

We then went exploring throughout the park on our own. We visited a large military bunker, visited a spot along the beach of the Pacific Ocean and a spot along the Columbia River just before it empties into the ocean. The road there took us to the very northwestern-most point of the state of Oregon. We learned that the actual coastline here is about a mile further west than when the Lewis and Clark expedition visited here in 1805-1806. That is because jetties have been constructed to control the changing currents and sandbars at the mouth of the Columbia. The Colombia River bar is particularly treacherous. That and the rocky Oregon coastline have resulted in over 2,000 ship wrecks in this area in the last couple of centuries, earning the mouth of the Columbia the nickname as the graveyard of the Pacific.

In the evening we drove south along U.S. 101 to Seaside to find a place to eat. We ate at a little Italian restaurant.

We returned to the park and were there in time for the nine o'clock campfire program at the amphitheater. Tonight's program, presented again by Ranger Matt, was on Roosevelt Elk, which are common in this corner of Oregon. We all wished we could be here for the program scheduled for tomorrow night entitled the Graveyard of the Pacific, but we will be in Ontario on the opposite side of the state by then.

We returned to the yurt and retired for the night.

Northwest adventure (day 6)

Monday, August 4, 2008
Oregon, Washington

Dani left for work (or school, I am not sure which) just as I was waking up for the day, which was earlier than any of the others were up. We got up, had some breakfast, packed our things, and headed out for the day. First we went looking for a post office to buy stamps and have them hand canceled in our travel books. We then drove into downtown Portland and went to Powell's, which is billed as the largest independent seller of new and used books, and spent a couple hours there. Michael and the children each bought books. I just browsed.

We then went to lunch at a Burgerville, a local chain here in the Portland area. Dani had recommended it as a place with to-die-for onion rings and in-season fresh raspberry shakes. We tried both and were very pleased.

We then met Dani at OMSI (the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry), which is located along the south bank of the Willamette River, and spent a couple hours there. It was similar to what we had seen at the Discovery Center of Idaho in Boise.

We said good-bye to Dani and, at her recommendation, headed toward Astoria in the very northwest corner of the state by taking I-5 back into Washington and traveling up the Washington side of the Columbia to Longview, where we crossed the river back into Oregon and continued along U.S. 30 on the south side of the river to Astoria. We stopped there to buy food at a Safeway store and then drove on to Fort Stevens State Park, our home for the next couple days. We found the ranger station and checked in. We are staying in yurt number 11 both Monday and Tuesday nights.

The yurt is just the right size for our group of six people. Caleb and Jacob will sleep in their sleeping bags on the top bunk. Michael, Meghan, and Caleb will sleep on the wider bottom bunk. And I will sleep on the futon couch. After we got settled in, we went to the nine o'clock campfire program at the amphitheater on lighthouses on the Oregon coast. That was an enjoyable half hour program.

Northwest adventure (day 5)

Sunday, August 3, 2008
Washington, Oregon

Today is fast Sunday. Our motel provides a full continental breakfast. Michael's children, who fast one meal on fast Sunday, decided to eat breakfast and skip their midday meal. That way we wouldn't have to stop somewhere on the road to buy a meal on the sabbath.

Chris and Camilla stopped by our motel about nine o'clock, and we followed them to their meetinghouse, where we attended the meetings of the Mukilteo Ward. Sacrament meeting was first, followed by Primary for the children and by Sunday School and priesthood meeting for Michael and me. The children felt more comfortable going to Primary because Camilla was there as the music leader. Chris accompanied Michael and me to Sunday School and Michael to elders quorum while I joined the high priests group.

After church we returned to Chris and Camilla's apartment to visit for a few hours. Sam has had a great time having some of his cousins here to play with, particularly Andrew, who is closest to his age.

Around four o'clock we said good-bye to Chris, Camilla, and Sam (we will be seeing them again in two weeks when they come to Utah for the wedding of Chris's sister) and left Everett, heading south on I-5 past Seattle, Tacoma, Olympia (the capital of Washington), and on south to Vancouver. We continued across the Columbia River into Oregon and on through Portland to Lake Oswego, where Michael's friend Dani lives. She used to work with him at Deseret Book. On the way to her house we passed the Portland Oregon Temple, which can be seen just off the east side of the freeway just south of Portland. (On Friday, as we were arriving in the Seattle area, we passed the Seattle Washington Temple on the north side of I-90 just before it intersects with I-405 in Bellevue.) It had taken us between three and three and a half hours to travel from Everett to Lake Oswego.

We spent the evening visiting with Dani. Michael, Meghan, Caleb, and Jacob slept in sleeping bags in a tent in the backyard. Andrew and I slept in sleeping bags on the floor of the living room.