Life in the Loony Bin

The Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves

2012-01-30T10:52:00.000-06:00

The feeling is coming to me that I should be going to Calcutta, India to visit the Indian widows that we have been sending money to the last year. We have collected about $5,000 US and I believe that it is making a difference. I also believe that if I can go there, see and spend time with the women, photograph them in their work, that I can come home and do more for them. As that song says, "The sisters are doing it for themselves."

Last year, my two friends, Cheryl and Kathy, and I paired up with the Calcutta Rotary Club to send money to widows who are completely disinfranchised from Indian/Hindu culture. If you want to see our blog: http://www.indianwidowproject.com/

Meet Madu B. from Calcutta, India. She is a Rotarian with the Calcutta Uptown Rotary Club. Her club is the presence "on the ground" as people who work in non-profit work say here in the West. That means that she is there working with the widow women in the empowerment process and helping to assure the monies are going where they need to be going. She and her fellow club members are invaluable to the success of this project.

Isn't she beautiful?

There is some question on how a microloan program works. Here is some history to the concept:

In 1971, Al Whittaker resigned as president of Bristol Myers and established Opportunity International’s first US office in Washington DC. The first loan was made to Carlos Moreno in Colombia to expand his one-man spice and tea business, cited in The Economist as the first "micro-loan". Opportunity International provided opportunities for people in chronic poverty to transform their lives by creating jobs, stimulating small businesses, and strengthening communities. Small loans ranging from $25 to $500 helped poor families lift themselves out of poverty with dignity.

Example: I donate $5.00 (US dollars) to the Charitable Fund of North Kansas City Rotary Club. The NKC Rotary will send me a $5.00 tax receipt for my charitable donation. The Rotary will then send a $5.00 check to the South Kolkata nari Jagriti Rotary Program--the financial arm of the Calcutta Uptown Rotary Club (this is the legal way of donating money to India). Indian Rotarians like Madu and those who work with her (all volunteers), go to the villages and dispurse the monies. They monitor the ladies as they work the program. The money is then repaid over a three year period back to the program. Then that same money will be loaned to another woman living in poverty. Just to be clear, the $5.00 I donated originally will NOT be returned to me. It is the same principle if I donated $5 to my church tithings or to another non-profit organization.

Regarding the widows being served in this project, here is the outline of how the loans work according to Madu:

"Our club's Rotary Community Corps is South Kolkata nari Jagriti. After a survey by SKNJ on which women who require loans for income-generating activity like goatery, duckery, cows, poultry, dairy, and aquaculture. We disburse the loans to a group of 10-12 women. These women are illiterate and poor. Loan amount is $50-$100 depending on the kind of business they wish to. Literacy programmes are held and our club ensures that girl childs goes to school. Health and sanitation awareness programmes are also helping. The women will repay the loans at 8% interest yearly and peer pressure is there to guarantee the loans along with interest amount is repaid."

You can now see the value of having trustworthy folks like Madu on the ground when you are dealing with money and projects in a foreign country that you are not able to have direct contact.

Yet. :)

Fever Pitch

2012-01-21T19:44:00.001-06:00

http://www.kansascity.com/2012/01/19/3382694/new-mormon-temple-in-kansas-city.html

Dear Friends,
If you are not on the Facebook, you do not really know how many photographs of the new Kansas City Temple I have taken in the last 18 months. If you are on the Facebook, you still really don't know.

The new temple will have an open house on April 7-21st for ANYONE....white, black, male, female, young, old, religious, heathen....or religious heathens. Hey! I resemble that remark!

There is a fever pitch building here in our church members, and I contribute to it by taking photographs for the Temple Chaser blog and some other LDS church sites.

Here are some:
http://www.kcldstemple.blogspot.com/2012/01/renewal-awaits.html

I thought you would like to see some more of them....

Hope you can join us! :)

Church Ladies Report of 2011

2012-01-06T11:02:00.000-06:00

I was asked to chair the humanitarian efforts of the women's church group that I am a member of in July of 2009. I think it was because I have time, networked connections, and passion.
Each year, I try to organize at least five or six worthy projects that may only take a little money, a little time, or little energy. There is a saying that paraphrased says "We are not asking everyone to do everything, we are asking everyone to do something."

Really, when you think about it, if everyone did a little something, all those "somethings" add up into a bunch of big somethings.

These ladies are so diverse. They work. They don't work. They have big families. They have small familes. Some have children. Some do not. Some are healthy. Some are not. Some have educations. Some do not.

The common thing I love about church is that we all are so so different, but seem to be earnestly striving to makes things better. Including ourselves and things around us.

So, I slapped a fun name on the humanitarian efforts (Church Ladies Projects) which comes from what my Rotarians call us, and we have been going ever since.

Each calendar year end, I write a report of what projects we did and what the total donations amounted to.
Here is the report for this year:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Church Ladies:
It humbles me to write this. We have been doing Church Ladies projects for two and half years, and I thought you would like to know what we did this year and what we have done in total.

When I was a PTA president, we were taught that numbers measured much of the work we did. We, of course, don’t serve our fellow men for numbers, but it is one way to see where we have been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Total estimated items for 2011:
107,000 (conservative estimation)
2011:

Ronald McDonald House

Collected Pop Tabs and keys
#99,654 (give or take a few)
$9,965.40 monetary donation value
(a special shout out to Laura Lee’s school who has donated over 80,000 of them!)

Free Will Victory Baptist Church

Monetary, time and goods donations

February 2011: (Stake Project)

KC Rescue Mission Men’s Homeless Shelter
Collected Men’s clothing

March 2011:

KC Rescue Mission
Collected Easter candy
#4, 697 pieces

April 2011:

Japanese school children
Sent encouraging emails after the earthquake

July 2011:

KC Rescue Mission
Took ice cream sandwiches for July 4^th
#48
Cookies for an event

November 2011:
KC Rescue Mission

Made homemade Christmas Cards
#100

December 2011:

Northland Christmas Store
#2 families served

Crossroads Hospice

Cookies for the dying
#224 bags/877 cookies

KC Rescue Mission

Christmas cards and photographs
#130 bags/ 720 pieces of candy
#60 donated photographs
#60 stamps
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Total donated measurable items for the last two and half years:
(remember that everything cannot be counted)
142,000 items donated
132,000 stayed locally here in Kansas City

What is on the horizon for 2012?

This is our tentative outline:

Ongoing:

*Collecting pop tabs

*Making lunches monthly for the homeless with the Baptist Church

*Helping to ready the new clothing room for the new KC Rescue Mission for WOMEN. This is a project in the works that we have been approached by the Mission specifically and asked to be involved. More information is forthcoming.

March: Pack boxes for Easter with the Lutheran Church

May: Make cookies for the job fair at the Northland Cathedral or collect items for the Buddist Bodhi Project
August: Collect school supplies for the Midwest Foster Care Program
November: Pack boxes for the Thanksgiving with the Lutherans

Mother Theresa said that she felt her call was to “serve those who felt most unloved, unwanted, uncared for... those who often found it difficult to believe in His love because of their circumstances.” As the project chair, I have strived to find these very people here in our community so that we could serve them in a kind, loving way. We are working to network with other religions and groups so that we can connect with them and to show them who we really are.

Ladies, I sincerely say thank you. With everyone contributing a little something, we have all worked together to make this happen. These items have served THOUSANDS of our heavenly brothers and sisters, the very children of Heavenly Father who may need it most.

Love,

Sister Valerie Anderson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love how a whole bunch of little "somethings" can go a long way.

My favorite verses from the Bible

2012-01-03T18:22:00.000-06:00

This is more for me than you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last year I made a goal to read the entire Bible in less than 365 days. I did it in about 325. And I read it in date chronological order of when it was written, not in order it is found in the Bible.

It was very interesting and now I can say to myself that I have read all the works of the Bible, Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenants, and Pearl of Great Price. I am glad I did it.

While I was reading, I took notes of verses that stuck out to me. Maybe not the whole verse, but something within it. I have been dragging the scratch paper around with me that I took notes on for the last few months. I decided that as one of my new year goals, I would write them on the blog, since it serves as my journal of sorts.

Here goes: in no particular order
Job 4: 3-4
Job 10:1
Job 26:2
Exodus 25:2
Exodus 34
Deut. 15:8, 10-11
Joshua 11:18
Joshua 9:27
Joshua 22;5
Joshua 24:22
Judges 4;1
1 Samuel 20:4
1 Samuel 10:9
1 Samuel 15:14
1 Samuel 18:1
Psalm 56:8
Psalm 140:12
2 Samuel 2:16-17
2 Samuel 1:26
Psalm 44
Psalm 103:4
Psalm 102:2
Psalm 133
Psalm 96:3
2 Samuel 7
Psalm 139
Psalm 169:1-3
Psalm 122:1-2
2 Samuel 22
Psalm 144:1
1 Chron 28:9
Psalm 37
Psalm 119:10
Psalm 72:12
Psalm 167
Psalm 129
Proverbs 14:21
Proverbs 18:19
1 Kings 9:4
Proverbs 31:20
2 Chron 5;17
Psalms 8:2-3
Psalm 48:9
Psalm 37:1
Isaiah 38
Ezekiel 34:23
Psalm 82:13
Psalm 48:9
Isaiah 37;1
Isaiah 38
Jeremiah 24:1
Jeremiah 29:12-14
Ezra 2:68-69
Thess 1:2
Luke 17;32
Matt 20:34
Acts 11:23-24
James 5:14
1 Corin 15:9
2 Corin 1:24
2 Corin 9:7
Romans 12:10
Romans 12:16
Romans 16:2
Philemon 4;28
Ephesians 3;17
Philippians 4;5
Titus 1:22
Hebrew 13:1-2
Hebrew 12:12
Hebrew 11:6
2 Tim 1:15
2 Peter 5-7
1 John 4:7-8, 11-12, 18
Revelations 1:7
Revelations 21:4

This year my goals include
eating less sugar

exercising at least two times a week

writing down all the names of everyone who is recorded as having personally interacted with Jesus Christ (so far, up to Matthew 10, I have 31 different people or groups)

and recording in a notebook every single day 5 things I am thankful for (ironically, buddy Lori called me the day after I made this goal to tell me that she had made me a journal of gratitude for Christmas...see, meant to be).

Gotta go....have a dark chocolate truffle waiting for me. :)

For the gratitude journal today, truffles. :) This isn't a eat less sugar day, I guess. :)

Bob the Builder Award: The simple son of Holocaust survivor, Chaim

2012-01-01T10:17:00.000-06:00

I love the start out the new year on a high note. Bear with me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For most of my life that I can remember, I have had a certain draw to the Holocaust.

I once read a interesting book called "The Americanization of the Holocaust." It talked about how even though the Holocaust did not happen in America, and most Americans at the time did not know someone who died in it, we still as a nation still have some strange feelings of ownership or interest in it. The book wasn't really able to pinpoint the exact socialogical proof or reasons why, only theories. The point I am making here is that if someone from America wrote a book about the very thing that has been on my mind for the last 25-30 years...me, some white girl from Alaska.... there must be many others who feel the same way too.

It was only after I was married and an adult that I did my genealogy of my step-father's line. Only then did I learn that my maiden adopted name was Yiddish Hebrew from the Czech region. Only then did I learn that my step-grandfather, Richard, had a grandmother named Anna living in the region at the time that Hitler marched through in 1939. His father, Joseph, would send money to Anna. It was in 1939 that the letters from her stopped coming and they never heard from her again.

It was only after I was married and went to Washington DC to the Holocaust Museuem (worth the trip alone to see in DC) (and evidence that the book was right...why do we have a museum in OUR nation's captital about an event that happened on another continent? It would seem to me that it would be like building a museum in DC off the Mall about the the slaughtering of Sudanese in Sudan...)

When I went to the museum I was so moved that it took me hours to go through. Without going into much detail of the actual exhibit, there is two things I took away from there....burned indefinately in my soul.

The first was when I walked through a train box car (a real box car of Jews for transport to concentration camps), I felt like I felt their spirits in there. The train car was so small. So many people were shoved in there. On their way to their deaths. When I exited through the other side, there were no soldiers with guns waiting for me. No one making me strip or walk to a gas chamber. Waiting for me on the other side was a giant mural photograph of people who were doing just that. I remember being so overcome with emotion that I stood facing the mural, leaned my head forward on the photograph and cried.

I will never forget it.

The second thing that I took away that day from the museum was a very simple image of part of an exhibit. It was this:

It was a big pile of shoes that had belonged to the people who had been gassed. So many shoes. Mr. Fun said that when he went to the Holocaust museum in Jerusalem (the Yad Yashim), he also remembers a big pile of shoes.

Those shoes survived because they were NOT made of blood and flesh. Weird eh? That canvas and leather, which is man made, endured.

In some strange sort of way, shoes have become an icon of the Holocaust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Which leads me to my first 2012 Bob the Builder Award. A guy nicknamed "Woody."

Alan, "Woody", Morawiec is the son of Chaim Morawiec, a survivor of the Holocaust.

Chaim

Chaim never could find his voice, figuratively, to share his story, so his son, Woody the middle school technology teacher, did.

After learning about Holocaust Awareness Week in 2000, Woody asked his dad for a pair of his shoes that he could share with his middle school students to connect them to Chaim.

Chaim sent them and the rest they say is "history." To help drive home the point, Woody asked the kids to bring a pair of shoes to donate to needy people in Colorado, their home state. That year alone, Woody collected 300 pairs.

Woody then went on to begin the Holocaust Shoe Project. To date, they have collected over 33,000 pairs of shoes for the needy around the world. Chaim died in 2009, but his story lives on, representing the millions of stories that will never be told.

If you are interested in feeling inspired and encouraged to do a little more good in this new year...this is a great place to start:

http://www.holocaustshoeproject.org/

Mary, Did You Know?

2011-12-23T18:39:00.000-06:00

A couple years ago, Tom and I made this

video for our church Christmas party.
It is a good song, with a great memory.

Enjoy

A Heart Issue

2011-12-20T11:09:00.000-06:00

So The Girl and I attended Sunday church services with our favorite Baptist friends last week.

As you can see by this fun summer picture, I asked her to go with me because she is game like that.

I love the Baptists. Who doesn't want to go to a church that sometimes offers bacon, chocolate and Diet Pepsi during Sunday School? :)

My grandmother was HARD CORE baptist. No pants. No dancing. No drinking.

My mother was raised baptist. As she sometimes says, "We don't go there."

I guess it is in my blood, quietly simmering in there, deep down by my nerve endings.

So, when I see the window of opportunity to fellowship and worship with other faiths, I try to do it. Especially them.

My sad part of this tale is that that Saturday, some hoodlums broke into the church and stole everything.
Vandalized the whole building. They cut out and stole the security cameras. They even stole Christmas presents set out for the small party the next day.

Sprayed fire extinguishers everywhere. I mean everywhere. Through the sanctuary, the offices, the halls. If you happen to be from Alaska, you know what the soot/ash feeling of having volcanic dust everywhere feels and looks like. It looked like that.

So, it was with heavy hearts that they came together on Sunday morning, after the professionals had been in all day before to get it managable enough to use.

Dave's parents, Dan and Betty, attend there and are always our gracious hosts when we arrive.

He took us around and showed us the mess. It made your heart feel a little sad inside. Well, a lotta sad.

"We would have a printed program, but they stole the printer."

"We would usually have better Christmas music, but they stole the instruments."

While I have my opinions (I know... shocking) about how the pastor is not really connected to his congregation (I think the 30 year age difference is a good place to start), Pastor K. did a great job succoring their hearts that morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

He began his sermon by saying "What happened to our church yesterday wasn't a materialistic issue. It is a heart issue."

Then he read "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" by Dr. Seuss.

This is a very elderly, very small congregation. I KNOW they were wondering "where is he going with this?" I sure was.

But then Pastor K hit it right on the head.

In the children's story, the narrator is explaining the Grinch's personal attitude problems and then he says it likely boils down to this....

"But I think that the most likely reason of all... may have been that his heart was two sizes too small. ... "

After reading that line from the book, the Pastor looks up and says, "We are talking about a heart issue for these men that stole from us."

After he finished reading the story, he talked about how it was most ironic to him that that most precious thing the church possesses is the one thing they want to give away for free the most.

"The thing of most value we have in this church is the gospel of Jesus Christ."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In this time of year, I know that there is lots of folks....billions I imagine....that do not care to, struggle to know, or have never even heard of Jesus Christ.

I am one of the strugglers. Given my atheist background, some days it is hard for me to believe that Jesus Christ lived or that He lives now and loves me. There have been some days it seems easier to think He doesn't because some things have been so hard, that I might get really annoyed with His letting it go on and on.

That is "some" days.

But that is not "most" days.

Most days, I get up in the morning and think to myself, "What would Jesus do?" No. Really.

Most days, I go forward trying out how to make myself better.

Most days, I try to love my fellow men in the best way I can, which can be challenging given my some times frankly harsh intolerance and criticism of them.

I do not speak for any other members of the Mormon Church. Or Christianity. Or organized religion or unorganized religion. I am just speaking for me and me alone.

And what me and me alone thinks is that if I did not have something as grounding as the "good news" of Jesus and His life....His example... perhaps I would have some significant serious heart issues too.

No, I don't think vandalism and theft would be part of my make up. I just don't care enough about stuff to involve myself with that.

My heart issues would not be so obvious. Or elementary. They would not be something professional carpet clearners could come and simply clean up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the celebration of Christmas is here, I want to share a public personal testimony that I strive to believe that there was a man named Jesus Christ who really lived on this Earth.

I am striving to believe that He was kind to everyone.

That He is mindful of each of our lives and that sometimes we are living in a heart that is "two sizes too small." And He loves us and is cheering us on, anyway.

Everyone needs someone they can trust and look up to as a mentor. And I have chosen Jesus Christ as mine.

With or without the bacon in Sunday School.

Merry Christmas. :)

A surprise note from Heaven

2011-12-09T09:55:00.000-06:00

We have a saying in our house we have said for years: "It's a Christmas miracle."

It comes from an Andersonville favorite movie: Better Off Dead. If you are from the 1980's like us, you probably know it and have enjoyed it as well. If not, come over for movie night and enjoy it with us. I have 94% fat free popcorn I am willing to share.

I have seen lots of things in my 42 years, and miracles are among some of them.

I have not seen God in person.

Or Jesus.

Or Abraham Lincoln or Harriet Tubman. You know, other people and heavenly beings that I admire.

But I have seen miraclous things happen, some of which I have had happen directly to me.

And if Andersonville ever need some miraculous love, this is the year we could use it.

I will not begin some laundry list of why, but suffice it to say that we are ready for a whole new year. New memories, new adventure.

Back to the miracle.

When Tom, who passed away six months ago this week, began his new life chapter in 2004 with the separation of him and his spouse, he needed Christmas decorations.

The tree we got from the Boy Scout Garage sale we had that fall. $5.00.

The ornaments were mainly ones that we gave him....shiney, glittery tools, a camaro I had painted pink, and some ones we shared from Alaska.

He really wanted something special for the topper.

We looked throughout the stores, and he never did find one he liked. So I made him one. Out of a printed red star (red for the camaro), the side of a cereal box (we Andersons and Allisons have some serious cereal eaters in our homes) and a end slice of a toliet paper roll. Just like you would in elementary school.

I used to tell him he didn't have to keep it as the years rolled by. But he did.

When Christmas passed last year, he gave away all of his Christmas belongings. He gave us back the ornaments we had given him. And the star.

I put the star away and didn't think of it again.

Given I am tired, I didn't want to put the tree up this year. However, it had not been up for three years, so Mr. Fun decided he wanted to do it.

We pulled out the bag of Tom ornaments and added them to the collection of our others. That was tender and sweet to see them and think of him.

That isn't the miracle.

When we were about done decorating it, I went to put on the Tom Homemade Star, in honor of him. Seemed like a nice thing to do.

Imagine my surprise when I was putting it on the tree, and there on the back, in Tom's handwriting was a message for us. And this is what it said:

"This has been my favorite topping since 2004. Now it is passed down to the Andersons to enjoy and always remember how simples things in life are always the best!! May this star always remind you of how our simple friendship has become an experience of life."

It honestly felt like the Heavens opened themselves right up there in the front room and Tom leaned down to us and handed us a love note. His words. His handwriting. On his 6th month passing away day. It felt like a note that really said "I am here, safe and sound. No worries. I miss you guys too."

Whether it is defined as a "miracle" to others or not, it is for me.

To my God in Heaven, thank you.

It's JibJab time!

2011-12-04T08:55:00.002-06:00

http://sendables.jibjab.com/view/lShICnxwJHjyVhgD?cmpid=jj_fb_self_holidays

For our *real* yearly Christmas greeting! :)

Bob the Builder Award: Chris and Ashli,"The Exteme Givers"

2011-11-29T07:31:00.000-06:00

Meet Chris and Ashli.

I don't have their picture because I don't have their last name.

But I do know he is 27 years old. They have a baby. And they live in Monongahley, PA. They don't seem to have a lot of money. He is a Bible student.

He also one of those "extreme couponers." But not the kind you think. (of course not, or he wouldn't be awarded the highly coveted "Bob the Builder Award"). :)

We saw him on tv last night. If you have not seen the show, the bottom line is that people spend what is the equivalent of hours to a full time job clipping and cutting coupons so that they can use them with supermarket sales to walk out of the store with as much free product as they can.

The Girl and I have watched this show for a few months, and almost every time we talk about how we could do extreme couponing and give some to the food banks, homeless shelter etc...

We have thought about it. Often.

Apparently Chris and his wife Ashli have too because they are doing it.
The cool part of this little tale is that unlike us, who would have a serious problem letting go of cereal and razors, Chris and Ahsli keep ZERO for themselves. Nada. Zip.

They have a room that stands empty, unless it is shopping trip time. They have bought thousands of items, stored them in their empty room and then at the end of the shopping week, they load it all up in their trailer they bought for such an occasion and take it to the local food bank. ALL of it. Even the cereal.

Last night they donated like $3,000 worth of food to the shelter. In one day. One shopping trip. Their cost: zero. That looks like this $0.00

Ashli said something cool. She said the most people who extreme coupon can be also known as extreme hoarders. She and Chris said they want to be known as "extreme givers."

Congratulations, Ashli. You are.

Wanna take a field trip? Photography trip to the city at night

2011-11-26T09:45:00.000-06:00

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150476851415042.416809.532120041&type=1&l=3fe74a9635

Happy Thanksgiving from the Kansas CIty Temple

2011-11-23T16:30:00.002-06:00

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150471282765042.416266.532120041&type=1&l=4b494d8286

If you want to see the landscaping and what shape the temple right now, today....here you go. :)

What do France and Val have in common?

2011-11-21T19:41:00.001-06:00

France limits viewing of Rihanna's new video

Nov. 21, 2011, 1:01 AM EST
"Rihanna has sparked a backlash in France after her "We Found Love" video was deemed too raunchy for daytime viewers. Officials at the Supreme Audiovisual Council of France have banned the video from airing on TV before 10 p.m. due to its explicit content.
Authorities criticized Rihanna's "self-destructive" behavior in the video, which features the singer smoking cigarettes, shoplifting and being spanked. She is also cited for appearing in scenes of "pronounced suggestive" content with British boxer/model Dudley O'Shaughnessy."

When was the last time you heard that FRANCE thought anything was "too raunchy?"

"Whatever you bring in, you bring out"

2011-11-18T19:22:00.000-06:00

It is unlike me to go so long without a new blog post, but the busy season has hit.

Good things have come to pass (a new mini cooper in the driveway for example two weeks ago) and some not so good (deciding whether to admit The Boy for another week of hospitalization or not). See what I mean. Weightier matters.

Another thing I have thought about the blog lately is that with the links and connections from the Facebook, more folks read it. I want to be careful what I write, and no longer think of it just as my personal rambling sort of journal.

Through all this thinking and pondering about life and those around me, I have something that will not leave my mind.

Stay with me here. It will make sense.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meet Barry Bridger... a man you have never heard of.

Two weeks ago, The Girl and I went to Rotary and met and listened to his POW story of survival in the Vietnamese "Hanoi Hotel." He was there for 6 years.

Six years. Six years of torture. Six years of deprivation. Six years of survival.

(look how good he looks)

I have met some pretty amazing people on this planet. I have met almost every president of Rotary International since I joined 8 years ago. An organization of 1.3 million members.

I have spoke at big LDS Church meeting with the current president of the Mormon Church, Thomas Monson. An organization of 14 million members.

I have shook the hand of a Nepalese Sherpa named Pem who has climbed Everest twice without oxygen and holds the world record of the being the only couple to be married at the top of Everest.

I have touched the numbered tattoo of Holocaust Survivor.

I have met and was complimented by one Mitt Romney, the current Presidential candidate.

I must say, shaking the hand of Barry at our meeting at the Northtowne Bowling Alley was perhaps the most humbling person I have been in presence of.

He travels around the country speaking to anyone who cares to listen to how we can use our trials to deepen and empower us. He believes in the power of example. That his adverse experience can lead people to live better lives.

He spoke to us about his prison life and how survival boiled down to a few simple things.

He is not bitter. He does not speak ill of the Vietnamese. He is optimistic and saw his time there as a time to deepen his convictions regarding his God, his country, and an opportunity to refine the guiding principles of his life.

Barry has done something remarkable with those six years.

"You are what you value. Whatever (attributes) you bring in (to your challenges), your bring out. Only deeper."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meet Rihanna.

A young Barbadian woman who has allowed herself to be shaped and marketed into a rock star goddess.

She released her first album in 2005....yep, six years ago. Six years. The same amount of time as Barry's six years.

In her six years, she has sold 20 million records, received several important awards, and has become rich and famous. She has everything many people dream of.

She has also survived a domestically violent relationship with her equally rich and famous then boyfriend.

For all intensive purposes, you would think that it is Rihanna that would be the role model, especially to young women. Like my daughter.

The power that she wields surpasses anything Barry will know as far as notoriety in this life. Compared to Barry, Rihanna as all the power to get it right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks ago I read an article in the newspaper that I cannot surprisingly release from my terrible short-term epileptic memory. It was in the Kansas City Star, written by a bright and socially conscious young black woman named Jenee Osterheldt.

It talks exactly about what Rihanna has done with her domestic violence experience. What she "brought out" of that trial.

She has made some videos. One of them is the 4th most viewed video in the history of YouTube:

397,664,841 million views

Two of which are mine I am sad to report.

It is called "I Love The Way You Lie." It is a duet song with Eminen, a well-known humaritarian and advocate for women's rights and respect (not). The song includes the line "Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems..." as the house is burning to the ground and the "happy" couple violently go at each other.

No dude. It is way crazier than that.

Her new video is "We Found Love." It spends four minutes and 36 seonds showing "true love" which includes serious drug use, alcohol, and physical violence. However, the video ends with the chick walking out of the relationship that last split-second scene of the story. A split-second isn't very long to influence lives.

I loved this paragraph in the newspaper:
"Rihanna's sexuality overpowers her message and pop culture as a whole paints a poor picture of what love really looks like....Almost every popular teen show features some sort of unhealthy relationship and even the blockbuster "Twilight" glorifies that. Many young women want a relationship like Edward and Bella's. They think that love means you can't function without the other person, that you will do anything for them, even if it hurts. The "Twilight" relationship twists love into possessive and overly dependant," according to Allison Basinger, a leader of the local domestic violence agency. "We have stop dismissing these things are entertainment."

Allison went on to report that 1 in 5 high school students REPORT (what about the unreported?) being abused or sexually assulted by their partner....that is 1.5 million girls annually.

Young people are being "educated" by pop culture. No doubt. With media showing the majority of relationships that are related to their age, they are receiving the message that "love" involves physicality, possession, verbal abuse, and intense sexual interaction.

Remember the School House Rock videos? How they could teach skills though a short visual and song? I can still sing them all that I saw those Saturday mornings. Burned in my memory.

How burned in their memories are these kinds of videos that young people see today?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barry said that when he was in the Hanoi Hotel, not a single man surrendered and turned to the Vietnamese.

The men who did not survive were those who died from one of two reasons:
they were tortured to death or they literally lost their minds.

So, how DID they survive? He said there were three main contributors:

communication between each other

laughter

and prayer.

Pretty much the opposite of a Rihanna video.

I was feeling bad about Barry and his trials. But as I have pondered it, it is actually Rihanna I feel sorrier for. If the videos that are coming out of her are representive pieces of her soul, there is no doubt that she feels some sort of torture and maybe in some ways, has lost parts of her mind...stripped away by the abuse she suffered. Just like those POWs.

I am sorry she wasn't at the Northetown Bowling Alley a couple weeks ago to shake Barry's hand as well.

Bob the Builder Award: Kaziah Hancock and her adopted children

2011-11-03T10:25:00.000-05:00

They are not the adopted children you think they are.

They don't live on a goat farm in Utah somewhere with Kaziah Hancock, their artist "mother."

They have never been to the farm. And they never will.

In fact, all those "adopted children" are dead. Fallen soldiers.

Kaziah donates all her painting skills, time, and money to paint portraits of soldiers who have passed away and sends them to their families.

Her service to our country. :) Do yourself a favor and watch this. Thanks Dave for sending it on.

http://www.militarytimes.com/multimedia/video/?bcrefid=866157386#/Portraits+of++the+Fallen/51748824001

A simple family home evening lesson/a way to do genealogy

2011-10-28T08:07:00.001-05:00

Found this site in the Reader's Digest.

http://www.theburninghouse.com/

It is simple. If your house was burning down, what would you take and why? Your family (and pets) are a given, obviously.

I will start.

Pictures from the Purse

2011-10-23T22:01:00.000-05:00

Weird thoughts? That sounds familiar.

This was on the box of fireworks this summer...

for men to enjoy....

And this is what was on the other box....

for women to enjoy...

poor little orphaned orange...:(

does anyone else see the oxymoron here?

is the woman or her butt the life of the party?

a blow up grub?

dis.gust.ing

You would see this on Jay Leno I bet...

This is Chad Knaus. He is the pit crew chief

for Jimmy Johnson the race car driver.

I am in love.

Mr. Fun calls him "Chad the Cheater."

Saw a kid at the high school wearing this....
I loved it.

Have a good one. I am off to Wisconsin to eat some cheese.

Temple Trees: The Parable of the Three Trees

2011-10-19T09:23:00.000-05:00

It isn't very often I blog about the work going on at the new Kansas City Temple or post the photographs I take there. Cheryl, my co-blogging partner, is doing such a great job of recording all that so I will just buy a copy of the blog book when it is printed. :)

I have not found the need to go to the temple as much anymore now that the exterior is finished and their construction efforts have been focused internally. However, when the sun and clouds seem to be clicking into place in just the right way, I try to listen to the still small voice inside of my heart and go there when I think something pretty will happen.

A close friend observed to me recently that it was like I am on a "mission" to be the temple photographer. Perhaps that is truer than I know.

With the changes in the weather and air to fall, there is more moisture in the sky which in turn is creating some really delicious cloud and light action. I was there two mornings ago, and the sky was REALLY this red. This photograph is unedited in anyway.

The landscaping is going forward, and trees are being planted. As SOON as I saw these three trees, I instantly thought of one of my most favorite children's stories.

May you enjoy it as well. Even if you are not a religious person, I think it speaks volumes about how life works and doesn't work out for us. Enjoy.

The Parable of the Three Trees

Once upon a mountain top, three little trees stood and
dreamed of what they wanted to become when they
grew up.

The first little tree looked up at the stars and said: "I
want to hold treasure. I want to be covered with gold
and filled with precious stones. I'll be the most
beautiful treasure chest in the world!"

The second little tree looked out at the small stream
trickling by on it's way to the ocean. "I want to be
traveling mighty waters and carrying powerful kings.
I'll be the strongest ship in the world!"

The third little tree looked down into the valley below
where busy men and women worked in a busy town.
"I don't want to leave the mountain top at all. I want to
grow so tall that when people stop to look at me,
they'll raise their eyes to heaven and think of God. I
will be the tallest tree in the world."

Years passed. The rain came, the sun shone, and the
little trees grew tall. One day three woodcutters
climbed the mountain.

The first woodcutter looked at the first tree and said,
"This tree is beautiful. It is perfect for me." With a
swoop of his shining axe, the first tree fell. "Now I
shall be made into a beautiful chest, I shall hold
wonderful treasure!" The first tree said.

The second woodcutter looked at the second tree
and said, "This tree is strong. It is perfect for me."
With a swoop of his shining axe, the second tree fell.

"Now I shall sail mighty waters!" thought the second
tree. "I shall be a strong ship for mighty kings!"

The third tree felt her heart sink when the last
woodcutter looked her way. She stood straight and
tall and pointed bravely to heaven.

But the woodcutter never even looked up. "Any kind
of tree will do for me." He muttered. With a swoop
of his shining axe, the third tree fell.

The first tree rejoiced when the woodcutter brought
her to a carpenter's shop. But the carpenter fashioned
the tree into a feedbox for animals.

The once beautiful tree was not covered with gold,
nor with treasure. She was coated with saw dust and
filled with hay for hungry farm animals.

The second tree smiled when the woodcutter took
her to a shipyard, but no mighty sailing ship was made
that day. Instead the once strong tree was hammered and
sawed into a simple fishing boat. She was too small and
too weak to sail to an ocean, or even a river; instead
she was taken to a little lake.

The third tree was confused when the woodcutter cut
her into strong beams and left her in a lumberyard.
"What happened?" The once tall tree wondered. "All
I ever wanted was to stay on the mountain top and point
to God..."

Many many days and nights passed. The three trees
nearly forgot their dreams.

But one night, golden starlight poured over the first tree
as a young woman placed her newborn baby in the
feedbox.

"I wish I could make a cradle for him." her husband
whispered. The mother squeezed his hand and smiled
as the starlight shone on the smooth and the sturdy
wood. "This manger is beautiful" she said.

And suddenly the first tree knew he was holding the
greatest treasure in the world.

One evening a tired traveler and his friends crowded
into the old fishing boat. The traveler fell asleep as
the second tree quietly sailed out into the lake. Soon
a thundering and thrashing storm arose. The little tree
shuddered. She knew she did not have the strength to
carry so many passengers safely through with the wind
and the rain.

The tired man awakened. He stood up, stretched out
his hand, and said, "Peace." The storm stopped as
quickly as it had begun.

And suddenly the second tree knew he was carrying the
king of heaven and earth.

One Friday morning, the third tree was startled when her
beam were yanked from the forgotten woodpile. She
flinched as she was carried through an angry jeering
crowd. She shuddered when soldiers nailed a man's hands
to her.

She felt ugly and harsh and cruel.

But on Sunday morning, when the sun rose and the
earth tremble with joy beneath her, the third tree knew
that God's love had changed everything.

It had made the third tree strong. And every time people
thought of the third tree, they would think of God.

That was better than being the tallest tree in the world.

So next time you feel down because you didn't get what
you want, just sit tight and be happy because God is
thinking of something better to give you ........... Author Unkown

Wanna take a field trip? Let's go Star Wars "trooping"

2011-10-10T14:28:00.000-05:00

If you are on the Facebook and "friends" with either of my children, you are no doubt wondering how they have been infected to the millionth degree with "Star Wars-itis."

I think I will blame one Tom Allison. He is living somewhere beyond so he is not here to object.

Several years ago BC (before cancer), he had a list he spoke about of things he wanted to do in his life. Before they were called "bucket lists"...cool and trendy.

On Tom's list: Attend a Star Wars Convention.

My favorite shot of the whole time

(the boy as Darth)

Mr. Fun said he would go (of course, he is fun as the name implies). The Boy wanted to go. I decided "why not?" so I got on board. Ironically, The Girl, was NOT a fan of the idea but with all of us going, she lost her vote.

We drove to Indianopolis in 2005 and spent four days there. It was surreal. And super rainy...as evidenced by the bottom of our pants.

who doesn't want to be their own action figure?

The Boy got on Japanese TV with this little outfit.

I think he was one of the youngest people there of the 40,000

who knew the Girl would be trooping in this same costume 6 years later?

That red suit is the Red Royal Guard...

guardian of the emperor...who is an evil sith lord

Don't I look good as a star wars figure? :)

Smoking hot

For me, it wasn't good or bad. Just strange.

Notice the pose of the Boy?

See it again down below

But for Tom and the kids, it spoke to them. The Girl went back again to Florida last year with Tom's family to do it again. The Boy ached with jealousy.

Both the Boy and Girl have pulled together authentic costumes and are now what I call "Star Wars Re-enactors."

When the people go out in the their costumes and show up at events, it is called "trooping."

So, I was invited to an event to go trooping with the kids and take pictures the other night down in the art district.

It was so fun. No....really.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Boy as a Jedi (good guy)

                                                                                                     The Girl getting her good smell on so
                                                                                                she doesn't stink in her handmade, custom
                                                                                                 costume. She has padding around her neck
                                                                                                to bulk her up and look more "guardianly"

The Boy and Girl

So, what happens is the group is contacted by some kind of organization. Boy Scouts, Down Syndrome Guild, the Zoo...etc...any non-profit group.

Local chapter volunteers who have approved costumes then show up to the event. They need a room to change in (they are all dressed modestly when changing so they can change in the same room). They bring everything they need and use. They then what I would call "work" the event. For free.

They seemingly stay in the same area as a group. They travel together from site to site on the location (like the art district, they walked from street to street together). And it is NOTHING for them to have their photographs taken HUNDREDS of times in a single event.

It was fun for me in two ways:

1: To see my shy children come out of their shells in such a big way

2. And to watch the faces of unexpecting people as they wonder by.

People FREAK FREAK FREAK out!

It was strange...most little girls seem to put

their hands up by their face....

these little girls were making

origami cranes with their grandmothers at the

Buddist temple we wandered into....yep,

they tried to convert me with their

free potato chips and soda

The cops pulled over in their car

and took tons of pictures of each other

we wandered by a art space that had a rave

with a DJ going on...

this guy was in HEAVEN...you can see it.

How many guys can say they busted a move

with Princess Leia and an Imperial officer?

I didn't know they had kilts in space

see the Boy? Just like when he was 6

I cannot put into words HOW many

pictures people take of the characters!

I am having a hard time thinking of a time

when I have seen so many people cheer, smile and

just plain be happy by seeing something

randomly on the street...

I love the look on my boy's face

This is Darrel. He is an official Lucas Film artist.

He travels with the troopers and draws people for the events.

Sometimes he does these large pieces for the non-profit to

auction off or raffle away to raise money.

This is a drawing of Boba Fett, Tom Allison's most favorite guy of all.

After trooping on the street, when we returned to the art space,

and Darrel almost was finished painting it.

When the Boy saw it, he cried.

For an hour.

He said he could feel Tom near, and he could not stop

looking at the piece.

Like any good mother, I bought it,

right then and there.

Darrel let both The Girl and Boy paint on the helmet

so they had part of their soul in the piece.

It now hangs in the hallway outside of their bedrooms,

directly outside of the Boy's bedroom.

It is the first thing he sees when he leaves his room.

He LOVES it.

He said he feels powerful, like he can do anything.

And he feels close to his best friend to the 11th power,

Star Wars mentor, Tom. :)

I love this one...

like his official trooping picture

This is like her official picture

Bless his heart, the imperial officer who took this didn't have

what you might say "photo skills."

Stick to your day job, officer guy....

blasting good guys throughout the galaxy. :)

Bob the Builder Award: Free mail on Dearelder.com

2011-09-27T08:18:00.000-05:00

notice the microwave popcorn...a girl needs her favorite snack

This is me. Me at the missionary at the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah for the LDS Church.
This was 21 years ago.

I was there for 9 weeks. That is a story for another day, but suffice it to say it is the most akin to the idea that I had been teleported to another planet than anywhere else I have been on earth.

When missionaries enter the MTC, it is like a spiritual missionary boot camp. No tv. No newspapers. No cell phones. No facebook. No email. No real connection to the "outside" world...except for good old fashion mail.

Mail. Ahhhh, glorious, beautiful, precious, amazing mail.

Any mail. From anyone.

I learned last night for those who might be interested that there is a free web site called.
http://www.dearelder.com/

You don't have to register to use it to send mail to the MTC. Punch the Provo MTC (if that is where your missionary is). You write the email and they drop it in the missionaries mail box the same day. Free. :)

Alaska flower book

2011-09-24T19:50:00.000-05:00

http://www.mypublisher.com/?e=OHm3Q8zJl3SBBP3Mco724xPbkMfeSsLg&_mp=nFKVNzD2ho0nOL2L1MpU2eMT0dO7IYE7%0A

Mr. Fun's dad is a master gardener. LOVES it.

I decided to take advantage of the 2 for 1 book sale this weekend and made a picture book for him for Christmas (shhh....don't tell).

We think he will dig it.

Some of the pictures have been lighted because of the grey skys, but the flowers really look like that. :)

Please Pass The Maggots

2011-09-16T18:20:00.000-05:00

I am a fan of Heifer International.

If you don't know what that is, go here: http://www.heifer.org/.

I used to give them my money (well, actually Mr. Fun's money) but they have gotten too commercialized as well as we are giving some money to the Indian Widow Project.

Regarding Heifer, I get their quarterly magazine. This week it arrived, sharing all the inspiring stories of goats, pigs and trees making a difference in the world. Who knew that a cow could do such a cool thing?

Moo.

There was an article about utilizing the world's natural resources that we tend to overlook as food:
insects.

Look, an after school snack

That's right. Bugs.

June beetles. Crickets. Silk worms. Terminites. Palm weevels. Mealworms. Weaver Ants.

There are 1,700 types of edible bugs on this planet. And because I always started this blog to share a little of me and more of stories you might not have heard in the mainstream media, I think this is the perfect place to share it.

Did you know that the United Nations Food program is seriously stepping up efforts to include edible insects in the world food options. The article said the population is supposed to grow from 7 billion to 9 billion by 2050, and insects have what is called "attractive sustainability profiles."

What is an "attractive sustainability profile" in the bug world?

They require less space for living, water, and feed. They produce less waste. Look at this lady bug...no space at all.

An amateur chef in New York said the following: "I host brunch or dinner parties with wax worm fritters and everyone wants to try them."

Yeah, right. Hey, friend, save yourself a stamp and don't mail an invite to me.

They says that insect indulging is falling in style in the West, but out of style in the developing Eastern countries. Catch that? Countries that actually have been using bugology as lunch are now developing and figuring out there are tastier things to eat.

(sunday dinner this week in Andersonville)

Of the whole article, here was the best part:

A Taster's Guide to the Bug Equivalant

If you like scallops................eat maggots

If you like peanuts.............eat locuts

If you like fried eggs..................eat witchetty grubs

If you like caviar.........................eat weaver ant larvae

If you like mushrooms..............eat wax worms

If you like herring....................eat black witch moth larvae

And in case this hasn't "bugged" you enough:
http://www.insectsarefood.com/

http://www.girlmeetsbug.com/

He looks nervous....like he's read this article, too. :)

Photo contests

2011-09-14T08:50:00.000-05:00

I am not one to really enter contests, but I decided this morning that I could try this one.

I guess I am feeling like risk-taking. I did enter this picture at the local Walmart in June
(theme: butterflies and sunflowers) and I won the grand prize of a $50 gift card. Which I used to buy a camera strap and some photo paper. :) You know...feeding the addiction.

Last night, reading Travel and Leisure Magazine, there was a fellow that won their monthly contest using a camera that is not as good as mine.

So this morning, I thought, "Why not?"

I entered this picture under that "Landmark" and "America" categories.

http://community.travelandleisure.com/page/photo-contest-america-2011.html

If you click on picture, it pulls up the write up about the photograph.

I guess I like the Landmark definition:

land·mark

Noun/ˈlan(d)ˌmärk/

1. An object or feature of a landscape or town that enables someone to establish their location.

There is no doubt that Alaskans know this feature. :)

The tallest point on the North American continient...

how could you not?

Bob the Builder Award: Loganites

2011-09-13T12:55:00.000-05:00

Believe it!

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/44499884/ns/today-today_people/t/caught-tape-motorcyclist-rescued-fiery-crash/#.Tm-B5ttO0dU.email

We lived and graduated from here. Love love love Logan. :)

Bob the Builder Award: The Old Guard--featuring Kelly Lord

2011-09-07T07:40:00.000-05:00

There is a favorite family of mine in our congregation, the Fullmers, whose daughter is married to a member of the Army Old Guard.

He is featured in a short clip about their activities:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?v=10150431911583356

How cool is that?

If you would like to read more, go here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/3rd_US_Infantry_Regiment_(The_Old_Guard)

Thanks Brother Lord and your unit for your service.

An open letter of apology

2011-09-05T08:12:00.002-05:00

To those relatives or friends of my relatives who may or may not be reading this:
(as The Girl would say)

Your grandmother may be laying in my recycle bin.

I first want to introduce myself. I am Valerie, granddaughter of Richard and Betty.

First, the good news:

I recently came into 5 boxes of genealogy that spanned 90 years. That is correct.

90 years. Five boxes. That is like finding a gold mine in the Mormon world.

There is a long backstory with these papers, but suffice it to say that I waited almost 19 years to look at it and get my hands on it. Age was on my side, and my father recently received it all in the mail for me to go through and take care of.

I have learned a couple things sorting through these papers and pictures.

First, do it in the living room where the tv is. Put in a long movie...something like "Thorn Birds."
(thanks Carol T. for the movie!)

Next, have snacks and drinks available. A girl can get parched.

Do it when the family is out of town. Less distractions...less interacting to throw your focused mindset off track. And you don't have to cook dinner.

One last thing and certainly the most important:
If you are going to hold on to photographs of people you may or may not be related to for 70 years, you should write their names on the back.

Now, for the bad news....especially if you have a relative in one of these pictures below:

That pile of picture spread out on the living room floor is every single person that I do not recognize. I do not know who they are (they don't look like family.) They have no names, dates, or places.

I cannot assume they are family because I learned going through the papers that my grandmother, Betty, if she could have done any job regardless of money or skill, it would have been to be a....hold on for this Brian....

a photographer.

My dad only learned this just yesterday.

Her grandmother Mary was an amatuer photographer. Betty was an amatuer photographer. My brother is an amatuer photographer. And even though I am not related by blood, I like to take pictures too.

And as people who take pictures can tell you, you take a lot of pictures. And keep a lot, even if their "story", as Dave would say, might not mean anything to anyone else.

The point of my tale here is that all these photographs you see in the picture, they are now in the recycle bin. I pulled out some "art" kind I will assume Betty took to show you here next post. For all of you who may incidentally be related to the people in these photographs, I am sorry to say that they are gone.

The good news for my family is some were marked. Like a couple of these:

This is Grandpa Richard (Dick) in the early 1940's with his son, Michael. Michael was killed in a car accident when he was 9. My grandparents divorced in about 1950. Grandpa died in 1983.

Look what I found, unmarked in my pictures....

Here is me, my dad, and brother in Ak in the late 1970s.

Here is grandpa another day in the 40's. What is interesting to me is that my grandmother died in 2008. They were divorced almost 60 years, but she still held on to this picture. There were no kids in it. I guess I always imagined that when you get divorced, you would get rid of the pictures of your spouse if they didn't have the kids in them. I think maybe this picture tells more of a story than it looks.

First, the composition is really great. In the last 1/3rd of the frame. He is smiling, genuinely. He is a light shirt so it must be warm. He has sort of muscley arms so maybe he does some kind of manual labor (found out later he was a house painter). The new car is in the background. How do I know it is new? Because I found a picture that WAS marked.

I like that he looks happy. Maybe my grandma kept it because it was a happy day for her too.

All the pictures in the world are not going to mean anything to whoever they end up with in 70 years if you do not mark them somehow. Those pictures, the ones now floating about in the blue recycle bin on the porch, each have their story to share. It just makes me sad that I cannot send them to the family who would enjoy those stories most. My apologies.

Flood Season

2011-08-27T22:33:00.000-05:00

(Side note: I started writing this blog before the hurricane in the East)

July and August are officially known as "global flood season" --worldwide (hence the global word I guess).

So what? said I. That was in May.

May was long for me as you might remember. I usually have some inkling of the suffering of others in the world. But May was not the month for me to look past myself or what was going on 2.0 miles from my house.

In June, a Rotarian man named John that I have high respect for had a look on his face that changed my mind.

John is a professional farmer (do they have a title?). He lives in a fancy house. He has money. He is an extremely dedicated humanitarian. He loves the Indian Widow Project idea and wants to do more. He was making plans for our project through the spring. He is influential. The guy is unflappable.

Then I saw John in June, and all that was on hold.

My widow project. On hold.

Rotary. On hold.

His personal life. On hold.

Farming. On hold. Which that alone is damaging when you are professional farmer.

"Val, I have to resign from the micro-loan project. As a matter of fact, I will not be doing Rotary for while" he said. What? Why? Says me. I will never forget his answer OR the look on his face:

"Because the flood is coming."

My lack of farming experience tells me enough to know that I don't really comprehend or understand what the means. What that REALLY means.

But, living through global flood season here in Missouri, it makes sense now.

this is NOT a lake...this is a flood

Floods are not dangerous like tornados. You have weeks to know they are on their way.
Which sucks in its own way.

This is NOT a lake either...

Floods are not scary....scary like a earthquake scary. They don't shake your pictures off the wall. They are quiet. If you aren't directly impacted by one...you probably wouldn't know it was there.

But floods are deadly.

Floods are scary.

Floods don't just have their initial flood water come through one day and it is over. Flood waters continue to come months after the initial push.

Floods are destructive. They can leave scars. Sometimes deep scars.

Floods last a long, long time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have decided that my flood season started five years ago with Tom's diagnosis of terminal cancer.

Then a year later, I started my battle with epilepsy.

That same year The Boy got sick.

The next year Mr. Fun was diagnosed with cancer.

This summer has been a peak in the "flood" waters in my life. Peaks in floods are good. That means that the flood water is going to start to go down and eventually level the river to normal levels.

Balance, as it were.

This summer has brought my own floods:
A flood of emotion
A flood of memories
and a flood of let down.

A flood of emotion:
Obviously, with the death of someone who was like a brother to me, I have had emotion. Lots of it.

A flood of memories:Recollecting our time with Tom as well as going home for the month of July has brought a lot of memories to light. It has been good. Healing.

A flood of let down:
The Boy has gone to full day of school all four days this week. That hasn't happened in four years. Four years. Maybe that doesn't sound like a big deal to other people, but it is a heck of a big deal to us. He is growing and they think his body might grow out of his illness. I am feeling cautiously optimistic about this.

With Tom's passing, my day job has come to an end and I am sorting out what I should do with the rest of my life. :)

Any suggestions?

If I was caught in a flood, I would think that I would try swimming to keep afloat.
For now I think that is what I should do... just keep swimming...just keep swimming

Bob the Builder: A boy and his dog

2011-08-25T11:59:00.000-05:00

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/44271018/ns/today-today_pets_and_animals/t/dog-mourns-casket-fallen-navy-seal/?fb_ref=.TlZ9JHYjRmE.like&fb_source=home_multiline

What Not To Wear (party)

2011-08-17T12:52:00.000-05:00

We had the best fun last night at the premier of the "What Not To Wear" show. We had a party of chicks (mainly from church) all gather and enjoy some snacks and fashion fun together.

Clinton and Stacey would have loved it.

Here is the Facebook write up:

Everyone dressed in clothes they already had in their possession of what we should not be wearing...no thrift store cheating. Then we each brought a fashion "accessory" to be in a white elephant exchange. We have all promised to wear whatever we ended up from the exchange with to church on Sunday. We passed our white elephant gift to our neighbor on the right of us everytime a body part was mentioned or Stacey said "shut the front door." We had snacks and took pictures. We had a grand prize of a donated day at the spa for the worst dressed...had a tie so they will share it. It was super duper fun.

Here are the pictures. The faces are hidden to protect their reputations. :)

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150338577635042.391449.532120041&l=2736397a40&type=1

Bob the Builder Award: Action Without Borders

2011-08-13T13:32:00.002-05:00

Rumor is that this is the largest global community of non-profits and volunteering resources on the Web. If you are looking for something to do for some one or some organization, you might want to start here:
www.idealist.org

This story will get you started....

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/11/opinion/rachels-last-fund-raiser.html?_r=1

Home Again, Home Again

2011-08-03T09:25:00.000-05:00

We have returned from Alaska.
Excellent trip.
Hard to come back to Missouri. For a number of reasons.

Will write soon.
Just catching my breath.

Valsy

The family with my father, Tom

Mt. McKinely/Denali

The Great Land: My heart's second home

2011-07-06T08:22:00.000-05:00

My heart has two homes, really.
I am in LOVE with Missouri. The mid-west really. But I love Missouri.

But my heart is in love with and loyal to another place as well. A place found 3,676.85 miles from here.

It is sometimes known as "The Great Land."
Otherwise known as Alaska.

And in it....it is called "Soldotna."

I know. Tricky name. Break it apart....Sol...dot...na.

Anyone from there has had to pronounce it more that once on the first go around. Sol....dot...na.

Next question... What kind of name is that?

1951

Late 1980s

Rumor it is a russian word for soldier. Who knows? Maybe Allan Miller, the town teacher of Russian. The real Russians all live about 80 miles away and they aren't too friendly when they come to town so they aren't telling.

You can read about the Kenai Peninsula in "1,000 places to see before you die" book. It is listed as one of the most beautiful places on the earth. It is true.

My dad moved to Soldotna in 1961. He left for a while for a little reason called the "draft" and eventually we moved back. I was turning 5 that year.

I lived there until I moved to college. Then I moved permanently when I married Mr. Fun, who is also from Soldotna. He moved there in the 9th grade and in my mind, the Andersons are still "new" to town. That was almost 30 years ago.

I was just barely older than this when we moved

A bar and garage. Sounds about right.

My parents have a booklet about the history of Soldotna which I learned some stuff. For you Slowtowners (nickname for Soldotna is Slowtown), I thought you would like to learn as well.

Burton Carver owned the local buses we rode to school everyday.

The Bear Den bar is a landmark.

Across the street from the Dairy Queen,

which sadly burned down just last week.

It is all over the facebook. :(

Soldotna was settled by many World War 2 vets

who wanted cheap land to homestead.

My dad used to snow plow out Vera and her variety store.

Her store was soooo packed and crazy

it would be featured on one of American Picker shows.

Remember the Quonset hut? By Soldotna Elementary?

They sold cinnamon oil and toothpicks and if we were lucky,

we could stay after school with our friends and get some

and play on the playground.

I learned they moved the hut over from Seward.

Can you imagine...a traffic jam in Soldotna?

With no motor homes?

Soldotna Clinic.

Sheri Bradford Dean was born there

(she is a Sterling girl), ourbest friend

from Soldotna who I just talked to

two days ago.

Eric Derleth is an attorney in that building now....

I doubt he is delivering babies.

More ironically, if you KNOW Eric Derleth,

you will appreciate the irony that he is an attorney.

Sheri, a couple years ago with Tom

We are headed "up" tomorrow. :)

This trip to Alaska will be different.

For example, we have never gone home when

my dad's orange boat wasn't there.

They sold and moved to Missouri to be by us.

These are my mom, Grandma, and Uncles.

(This was taken in the front yard of my old house.

Which is now a thrift store.)

We haven't seen them in almost 13 years.

We are not close (obviously), but I ADORE my uncle

and I cannot wait for him to meet the kids.

While I will not be doing any fishing---hate fishing--

fishing will be done.

Soldotna's claim to fame is it is the official

"King Salmon Capital of the World."

Here is why:

Local Les...owned the gas station

when you first came into town

We might see this.

We call it "combat fishing."

I doubt I will be doing or holding any of these.

Moose horns.

See that chicken wire cage on the left?
My brother's outside play pen...

shout out to you, Son

We will be seeing this...a float or two in the

"Soldotna Progess Days" parade. :)

And here is your last lesson about the history of Soldotna:

(Modern is up for interpretation and

reds are spawning salmon)

There will be plenty of stories.

Can't wait to share them.

Hey Alaska! I'm coming home. :)

Welcome to "Tom Allison Way"

2011-06-22T13:37:00.000-05:00

Dear Tom,
It has been two weeks since you passed away. I haven't been showering much, and it is harder to check my voice mail. Harder than normal and you know how hard it already was. But as we know, that problem has nothing to do with your death. :)

But The Girl and I have found our answer to all those chores we aren't doing.
All the junky snacks we have been eating.

"We are in mourning." The answer that has no reply.

I read about mourning periods and some even say you should mourn half the duration of the relationship. That means we could mourn for 4.6 years.

Man, that is A LOT of truffles.

But, to be honest, as the days have passed, it seems less and less heavy. The numbness has worn off for me anyway, and most of the time I can see you healthy, happy and in peace in my mind. Like the old days. Old pictures have really been helping replace the body and mind image you had at the end of your earthly journey.

Plus, having an eternal perspective is nice too. It sure helps.

I wanted to tell you that I have much to do in the next five weeks.

RYLA begins on Saturday, then the big Tallants Fourth of July Party on July 2nd, and then we are off to the long-awaited-postponed-several-times-trip to Alaska.

Today I am feeling it is a good day to tell you what I have to say.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have officially renamed 108th Street where the cemetery is "Tom Allison Way."

No, I didn't ask the City of Kansas City.

Or the Mayor.

But I am now on the Communications Committee for the City of Smithville, so I bet I can get permission from Brother Mayor Fullmer. I mean they drive by the cemetery when they are going to the WalMart, so I am sure it counts the same. :)

So, that said, I wanted to record some things I have figured out since you moved to your new home.

The viewing was a lovely evening. My favorite kind of clouds...which I am sure you had something to do with.

We were careful to make sure you got your red and white flowers (camaro colors). Mike did an excellent job following out your desires. Including donating any flower donations to the 5th floor of the hospital...oncology. The nice Hixson-Klein people even delivered them for us.

We saw this on the way to the funeral. I know you like it when good conquers evil.

The procession was long and we took 92 Highway to make sure we could all stay together. You know I love me a country drive so I enjoyed it. Janeel had given us cookies at the church so we ate them in the car while we followed the hearse and camaro. Carol T was with us since she was kind enough to give Joey, Jennifer, and Connor a chance to ride in the camaro to the cemetery. Dave wanted to burn out, but he was afraid he would ram the hearse....which would have been awkward.

Speaking of the camaro, there was something extremely therapeutic about it attending the funeral. I think it is a combination of things. That you loved it so much. When it came out it meant sunshine, happy, and perhaps some ice cream. I will always be grateful to the Tallants for buying it from you and bringing it that day.

It wasn't sunny per say that day, but there was some nice cloud work. Again. Thanks.

The pallbearers got you to where you needed to be. It is such the perfect location that I can hardly stand it. It is on a hill, with a most interesting view.

See the arrow? That photoshopped yellow flame marks your

spot. We see it almost every day.

The traffic of 169 and ~~108th~~ Tom Allison Way reminds me of your life in San Fransisco. Traffic sounds. City noise. But when you turn your back towards it, you see green rolling Missouri hills. Birds chirping. Quiet peace. It is so lovely...representing both factions of your life.

Of course, a big tree for Allison tree climbing--which, since I am in a naming mood, have named Tree. Now, when you are running fast in your Star Wars shoes after you are resurrected make sure you don't run immediately to that tree to climb it. You will need to come visit us who have missed you in case we didn't connect at the Eastern Gate.

You know I like "moments." So, for good measure, I kept my promise to look after you until you were buried. I got up early the first morning you were at the cemetery and threw on my jammies (I wanted you to recognize the "crazy lady" from the temple chasing mornings). We are only 1.2 miles from you. Closer than when you lived on McGee.

I came over to make sure your casket was in the ground. I came over to smooth the dirt above for when your family comes to visit. I came over to see the first sunrise. I only did what I thought you would do for me.

The morning was cloudy and grey, at first. The ONLY opening was right

about me and and Tree. Blue blue sky only there.

As if the Heavens opened for me to look up and see you happy and peaceful there.

As I watched the sun peek through, the clouds went away and the bluest sky came about. It reminded me of the peaceful green of Ireland.

There is something else that I have figured out about the cemetery. When a veteran is buried, the Christian Motorcycle gang comes out to scare away the Westboro protesters.

They also bring abot 20 flags to honor the way to the funeral home.

I know you will love hearing the loud motorcycles. You know the kind of loud I mean. The kind that I would cover-my-ears-and-you-and-Dave-would-be-embarrassed-that-I-was-covering-my-ears-at-a-car-show-loud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So, the reason why I think the street should be renamed Tom Allison Way is that it has an Tom Allison history. Your last work project was installing the flashing red light on 108 and Platte Purchase. Remember that day? You called after me and said that you had a strong feeling that you were seriously ill and going to be sick a long time. You were standing right there at that intersection when you said it. I will never forget the spooked sound in your voice.

There are plenty of cows to tell us the weather when we drive on it.

And it is always the way that we drive when are going to your former home for your kids or to see your parents.

See, it is the perfect name.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now, there is the matter of your new cemetery neighbors. There is another Thomas, who had his funeral at the Antioch Baptist Church. Good thing you have been hanging out with the Baptists almost the last two years...you will have plenty in common. I like his scripture because at the funeral we sang "God Be With You Until We Meet Again." :)

There is Elma. She died two months ago and has her sod replaced over her tomb. She doesn't have flowers like everyone else so I try to bring some for her when we come over to visit.

There is Dave. He has an American flag so I wonder if he is a veteran.

And there is Austin. Austin was five when he passed. He caught a unknown virus and died 12 hours later. It is heartbreaking. He has two older siblings and a mother our age. He died about 2 weeks before you.

How do I know Austin's story?

One night last week, The Girl make some Boba Fett cookies from the cutters she got from Melissa M. She wore her Star Wars apron and we took them to your grave to eat them.

We met Jill, Austin's mother, while we were there and had such a warm conversation. She said Austin was an angelic boy and that his favorite things in the world were cars. Red cars. :) Funny, we said, our angelic friend loved a certain red car, too.

It comforts all of us to think that Austin is not alone there in that cemetery and that someone as great as you is there with him.

Enjoy your sunsets, Tom, on Tom Allison Way. You are loved and

we speak of and miss you every day. :)

An ode to Val

2011-06-21T16:08:00.001-05:00

It isn't really an ode. It is more of a note about Val. Me. To a golden statue from a best kind of friend named Cheryl. Thanks girly. :)
http://kcldstemple.blogspot.com/2011/06/weeds.html

We are ok. We now understand what it means to have

"bad days," "waves of grief"

and how just sometimes getting out of bed is as good as it gets that day.

Returning with Honor

2011-06-12T08:20:00.000-05:00

Dearest Tom,
Seems silly to write you a letter since you have passed away and it might be a while until you can read this, but I have been known to talk to things that don' t talk back. My animals (including the two cats you so nicely donated to the mix), the plants, a gold statue on the top of the Temple, and my dead ancestors who are still actively eluding my rescue work of them in the Czech Republic. That said, I want to remember every detail of this week. This year. This relationship with you and us, and the blog is the best permanent place to do that. Get ready. I have a few things to say.

Tom's beloved Camaro made the funeral

Thanks Tallants

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Tom (again),
Remember when we went to Utah some ago or I was there. You know since the epilepsy has come along, my recall of more recent information isn't what it used to be. However, that said, I remember giving you the "Return with Honor" sign that you had on your front door. I got the idea from a family that we love in Utah, who raised 19 children. They had it engraved on a sign (it is still there even though they are all grown) on the inside of the front door. It was to remind them of who they were when they went out and to live the best they could. I have always loved seeing it. However, being the cheapwad that I am (sort of cheapwad, since I have so many pencils in Africa to buy), you got a paper version. I have always loved that you loved it.

That sign on your front door was referenced more than once during this funeral week. It is my humble opinion that you have done just that...Returned with honor. I know I don't have much pull in the afterlife, but I would be the first in line to vouch for you, be "your second" as they say in the movie "Grease", or your "wingman" as they say in "Top Gun." You know Andersonville....all of the great lessons in life come with their own movie quote. :)

Here is basically my serious declaration. I know you love yourself a lot of "Law and Order" (not), but I have learned a few things when presenting a case to a jury. Clear. Serious. Concise. Try not to cry.

If I had to present a case for you in Heaven, I think I would start my story with this talk I gave at the funeral. If you remember, we had such a blast at the Celebration of Life and that I gave the fun part of the funeral talk there. But you were more serious that not, and it seemed that I was specifically led to these words. The day before, I dreamt over and over the exact words and phrases to use. I hope that I honor you my friend with it. I wrote it with you, your parents, your brother and your children in mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My name is Valerie Anderson, and I am one of Tom’s best friends.

As you look around, you can see there are many people here who feel that very same way.

I wanted to say thank you for taking time out of your life to come and honor Tom. It would be humbling for him to see this and the effort made in his behalf.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I would like to get what I believe to be the most emotionally difficult part of my talk out of the way first. My apologies for reading this portion.

Joey, Jonny and Jennifer.

When your father put together his funeral, he had one very specific instruction for me as a speaker.

He asked me to publically say that you mean the world to him. He loves you more than anything. He is proud of you and did the best he could for you as your father.

He asked me to recognize the quality about each of you that he felt most connected to you, as individuals.

He also wanted me to share a special moment that he shared with you in your personal relationship with him that made him feel so happy.

He said if we shared these things here today, there would be a room full of people that could help you remember a teeny tiny piece of how he felt about you.

Joey: your father felt most connected to your spontaneous personality and risk-taking. One of his favorite moments was when he found out that you loved flashlights, too.

Jonny: your father felt most connected to your logical side. One of his favorite moments was when your report card grades would come out and he could see how terrific you were doing in school.

Jennifer: your father felt most connected to your heart of love and service. One of his favorite moments was when you asked him if you guys could go serve in the Bishop’s storehouse, preparing food orders for the poor.

Dear children, there are many people that love and care about you. Your father wanted to let you and your families know, both your mother’s side and his side, that if any of you need a friend, there are a world full of them you can call on.

It is true what your Uncle Mike said. Tom did fight to live as long as he did for you.

I have one last piece of advice: Please always remember that your father loves you with all of his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whew. Deep breath Val.

There is a story from Mormon Church history that was Tom’s most favorite. There was a group of pioneers in November 1856 traveling west towards Utah that who were stranded out on the frozen plains of Wyoming. Brigham Young, president of Mormon Church at the time, heard of their peril and dispatched a rescue team to go and save them. During the rescue, they had come to the banks of the Sweetwater River and here is what was written of the scene:

“The river was about one hundred feet wide and almost waist deep in places. To make it worse, big chunks of ice were floating in the water. Men who had once been strong sat on the frozen ground and cried along with their wives and children. They did not know how they would cross that icy river.

Then 3 eighteen year old young men from the rescue party stepped forward and carried almost every member of the company across the river. 'The strain was so terrible, and the exposure so great, that in later years all 3 of these young men died from the physical effects of what they did that day.

It is said that President Brigham Young cried like a child when he heard what they had done. Later he said, ‘That act alone will ensure them an everlasting celestial salvation in the Kingdom of God.’"

Tom used that story of service as the benchmark example of the kind of servant to his God and his fellow men that he wanted to be. He called it being “that guy.”

These last several years have proven he is just that.

Despite what it may look like from the outside today, he had so much joy these past years.

He got to do everything on his “bucket list.”

He lived to see his sons become Eagle Scouts and his daughter become a young woman, his two greatest desires.

He travelled.

He laughed.

He got to eat all the Hawaiian haystacks and rocky road ice cream he wanted.

Looking through the photographs out in the church hall, he was happy. You could see the smile in his eyes.

He would have loved last night. All these people in his life coming together, enjoying each other. And of course, having a cookie snack in the meantime.

The last several years have also been filled with experiences of “weightier matters” for Tom as well, naturally including his health.

He endured much suffering and years of endless pain.

He lost much. His job that made his money and made him feel good. Some friends who didn’t know how to handle his illness. His camaro. His privacy, which was most precious to him.

But he never gave up. He was never angry. Never complained. He never asked “why me?” And he was kind to the end. Gracious. And full of love.

That is what makes him “that guy.”

He will always been known for his kind and quiet service to so many of who he considered to be his heavenly brothers and sisters.

People like his his family. His congregation. His church. Other churches. His friends. People he didn’t know. The aged. The homeless. The starving. And people who had lost everything.

He felt that his ability to work hard was his gift to use in service, and he worked endlessly.

In Ephesians 4: 28 it says:
Let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, that he may have to give to him that needeth.

Tom never stopped looking for the need.

For example, not too many days ago, Linda and I were talking about the destruction of Joplin. It looked as though he were sleeping. But no. He lifted the pillow and blanket off his lap and started to stand up. Linda asked him if he needed to go to the restroom. He said "No, we are going to Joplin. There is work." The only way we could settle him was to convince him they weren't ready for us yet.

That is what makes him “that guy.”

I know people use the word “exceptional” in every day conversation about every day things.

But regarding Tom, it truly fits.

He was “exceptional.”

He was diagnosed with a year. He lived almost five.

His chemo was to last a year. He survived three.

He drifted on the edge of death several times and several times he came back. His hospice experience was so exceptional, they said over and over that threw the book out when it came to Tom Allison.

Referring to Tom’s wrestling background: “He just won’t be pinned.”

One of the things that was most exceptional about that guy was he was never afraid. He wasn’t afraid of anyone. And he wasn’t afraid of anything. Not even of death.

In Alma 27:28 there are those guys who believed just like Tom:

They never did look upon death with any degree of terror, for because of their hope and views of Christ and the resurrection; therefore death was swallowed up to them by the victory of Christ over it.

Not long after Tom’s diagnosis, there was much despair and heartache among so many who cared about him. But it was one sweet, inspired sister in our congregation that too believes that Christ has the victory over death.

She said with such a tender voice and smile, “The great blessing of his death is that he will be Tom Allison again.”

The Allisons don’t know this, but in the beginning the reason why Tom came to Matt and I and asked us to help him with his cancer journey was because he knew there would be great suffering. He said he did not want his parents and brother to see him suffer like that. He thought it would be easier for Matt and I because we were not family and more objective. I believe that he was right.

Several short months ago, while Tom was beginning to seriously decline, a mutual friend of our lost their young son in an accident. Tom was close to the boy’s father, having served along side him in church work for years.

After the passing their boy, Tom wrote the father a note which he sent to me for my opinion. “What do you think?” he asked me.

This is what the note said:

“At this time, I have no words to describe my sorrow for you and your family. I am thankful you have the gospel in your life to comfort you in these trying times. I often think of how it will be when I pass away. I personally will be so happy. I will have no more pain or distress. But I also think of how it will affect those who are left behind. Even with all the time I have right not there is no way to prepare them or make it any easier for them. The only hope I have for those left behind is that they will remembers the gospel principles and understand that I will be happy and in a better place. This is a difficult time but remember God knows that you and your family will have the strength to move forward and continue to have a blessed life.” Tom Allison

Tom Allison, what do I think of your inspired message of love and kindness? A message that applies to us right here and right now?

I think it is this kind of love of your fellow men that makes you “that guy.”

Tom, we love you. Thank you for the cherished opportunity to get to know you, work with you, talk with you, to love and be served by you.

God be with you til we meet again. We will see you at the Eastern Gate.

In the name of Jesus Christ

Valsy

My Silver Lining

2011-06-08T14:52:00.000-05:00

It didn't come how I thought it would.

I thought I would cry more.

I thought there might be sobbing or wailing by someone. Me, I guess.

I thought it would be dark. And I thought he would be in his bed in his room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tom died Monday.

There. I said it.

Say it again, Val. Out loud.

No.... the word died....it sounds too permanent. "Passed away" is kinder in my mind. Kinder coming out of my mouth. It reminds me of traffic...."Matt passed us quickly." Passed is a word I am quite familiar with, especially driving with Mr. Fun. :)

I got there the minute right after he died. Literally. He was still warm and I got to hold his hand.
He was there with his hospice nurse and his beloved cousin, Candi. I am so happy he wasn't alone.

Speaking of happy, Mr. Fun has said it more than once. How happy he is I mean. Happy for Tom.

For those folks who are not of the belief that our spirit is eternal, it might sound sort of coarse. Callous.

I see it as a "win-win" plan.

If there is no God and when we die we go into the ground and we cease to exist, then I won't know I was wrong. I win. But I lived better because of my wrong belief.

If there is a God, and when we die our spirit lives and we continue to exist, then I will have chosen well. I win. And I lived better because of my belief.

See, it is thoughts like that that I am choosing to think right now.

Tom didn't *think* this. He believed. He knew.

Today is National Best Friends Day. Seems only fitting that I should write my feelings.

Don't tell Jesus but we had a snowball

fight at Adam Ondi Ahman. :)

outing with the kids

While some best friends are at lunch right now, my best friend is being lovingly dressed by his family for his burial.

While some best friends are chatting on the phone, I have called his cell once to hear "Tom Allison" in that deep baritone voice.

While some best friends live in the same neighborhood, I am missing mine who are far from me. Living and "passed."

After Tom passed, I paced in the driveway calling those who I thought I should. His best friend Joe from high school. His favorite spiritual brother, Jack. His best car friend Dave. His second family....Mr. Fun, the baby goats, and King and Queen of Popper Holler.

It is strange what goes through your mind.

The people I wanted to so strongly to personally see were the oldest living couple I know. They have seen death take so many....and yet, they still believe we will see Tom again.

For whatever reason, Dan wasn't surprised to see me show up unannounced so late at his door. He had told his wife, Betty, earlier that day that I would come to them. That they would see me. Strange eh? I hadn't even been home to see the children yet.

Before I went to the Dodsons, I went to the temple grounds.

I didn't go to take any pictures.

I didn't go because of the light or clouds....really, the lack there of.

Frankly, I didn't even notice the sky. I know...a big thing for a cloud appreciator like myself.

I went to be alone. To ponder. To catch my breath.

And I wanted to call his brother, driving back home from far.

I climbed on the retaining wall by the freeway (sorry, JE Dunn I broke my self-governing rule and got out and left the truck). The view was best there and the rocks were warm.

If you know anything about my photo work of the last almost year, you know I have been to the temple grounds. A lot.

And I saw something I have never seen before.

A silver lining.

The silver lining of this story of the best friends is that we have been blessed. We are better people for knowing Tom.

This post has taken me hours to put into words and I have much work to do. I do not have the energy to write it all now, but suffice it to say that we are a blessed family.

One more thing.

The Angel Moroni on top will always reminds me of Tom. "You know he is going to get cooked right?" he would say.

Happy National Best Friend Day to the "all-natural" "Hoover Dam Cool" "Tom Allison."

ps/ Tom, one more thing. Monday night, Moroni wasn't cooked, but he did look a little sunburned. :)

Bob the Builder Award: The Mark Chapman Band

2011-06-02T11:23:00.001-05:00

Got this sweet note from my mom--a forward from a forward kind of email:

D7 District Utilities Engineer Greg Chapman and his brother, Mark, have a popular local band called the Mark Chapman Band. They wrote a song called "Where Would You Go (If You Couldn't Go Home)," which is on YouTube. All proceeds from downloads of the song go to the American Red Cross to help Joplin. It's available for download June 5.
Wendy
Senior Community Relations Specialist
Missouri Department of Transportation, Joplin

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7_iXoG_UDM&feature=youtu.be

Great job to The Mark Chapman Band.

Too many pictures...too little time

2011-05-30T11:23:00.000-05:00

My name is Valerie and I have a problem.

Actually, probably several problems if you ask my family.

Or friends.

But that is a blog for another time.

The problem of today that I would like to discuss

amongst ourselves is the problem that

digital photography has brought into my life.

In the past four days, I think I have

taken about 1,200 pictures.

At least.

Don't tell Mr. Fun.

Even just now, I just flashed him

my best big brown cow eyed smile to

distract him from the fact I am on the computer.

Again.

And still more again.

Digital photography is a super cheap deal.

That is of course after you buy all the junk that you

need to do it.

The great downfall for me now personally is that

I cannot stop taking pictures.

I have the camera in the purse.

I have the big camera.

I have the bags to haul them around in.

I have some time.

Well, the time thing is actually up for discussion.

I have the same 24 hours as everyone.

I have a family.

I have a houseguest...usually only on the days

that end in a "y" (as my mother would say).

I have several commitments that end up

taking more hours than a full time job.

None of which I am not paid.

I have a green truck that is starting to rust

out from under me. Fortunately, it

still holds my weight when I stand on the cab

to get that right shot.

Typing that sentence just now...

I see why the construction workers

call me the "crazy lady" at the temple site.

When most people take pictures, they may sit on the

sim card for days or even weeks.

I take so many at one time that I cannot afford

to leave them on the disk. I need the space.

I have thousands of pictures from that last two months alone

in dated files. Pictures that need to be weeded and tossed.

Resized for sending. Sent to their subjects so they

can have them.

I have so many that they are starting to slow down the computer.

Isn't she adorable? From a reception that I was

asked to shoot this weekend.

Was at the temple this morning. Got this.

This is a picture from the temple last week...

from the same storm that leveled half of Joplin.

I have pictures downloaded I haven't even looked at yet.

Ekk.

I still have pictures from our British Island trip TWO years ago

that I haven't weeded out.

And we are going to AK in a month!

For three weeks.

I can't even venture a guess how many

pictures I will take there.

The thought actually makes me

want to throw up in my mouth a little...

:)

Houston, we have a problem.

Well, I gotta go....

the sun is shining on the leaves in the garden

just the right way and the camera battery is charged.

PS: Mr. Fun, I can't help it.

"[They] talked fancy to me and I got confused."

Brother Angel Moroni meets The Church Ladies

2011-05-20T10:55:00.000-05:00

Dear Brother Angel Moroni

I always feel a little bit bad that I do not drop you a note until after these events, but since you can’t climb down from your perch to join in the fun, it seems kinder in the long run.

Speaking of long runs (running of any length seems long to me) there has been a lot of excitement about the Temple Fun Run of last month. I have met people who even are planning their attendance for next year, so I hope you are in the mood to host another one. Word is out that you know how to get your “Mr. Fun” on.

And speaking of hosting, I wanted to give you a little background of why there were some ladies at the temple a few days back. I know you saw them.

Carrying lawn chairs.

Sipping cold lemonade (sorry we were rude and didn’t offer any to you…but your hands were otherwise occupied).

Wearing sandals.

Of everything I figured you would connect with, I knew you would like the barefoot look…given I have never seen you in shoes.

You know they say you should have good shoe support if you are going to be on your feet all day.

All day?

I think Salt Lake Temple Brother Angel Moroni could tell you a thing or two about being on your feet a long time. Try 118 years. He doesn’t seem to be any worse for wear so I think it will work out ok for you as well.

It is part of the job description I am sure.

So, these ladies are sometimes known as “the Church Ladies.” They belong to a local congregation (although I don’t know how “local” it is when you have drive 20 minutes one way to get there) of the LDS Church. They are part of the church’s formal organization of women known as the Relief Society.

They have been meeting almost monthly for years for a journaling class. They have written about all sorts of topics from their own perspective. Stories of holidays. Travels. Family stories. Anything that gives them a chance to record their story for their own personal histories.

They meet together to read their story out loud. Some write pages of experience. Some write a very little. Some don’t write at all but come along anyway…(hey! I resemble that remark).

This month the theme was sharing a special story related to the temple. The leader, Tina, thought it would be nice if we met together at the temple grounds.

She was right. It was nice.

These are humble ladies who were not there to show how “super Mormon” they were. They were there because they all had something to share.

It was a lovely evening.

No rain. No big wind. No scorching heat (hey, wait! Are we still in Missouri? J)

I thought you would especially enjoy their activity given you yourself were a big journal-er in your earlier days.

I mean you were the last to record writings in the Book of Mormon.

You carried those plates (journals) all around the land with you.

You did some abridging work as well.

Millions of people have read what you have written.

That makes you, my friend, a writer.

As a matter of fact, when I was a full time missionary, one of the most effective scriptures we would share with anyone we talked to were words encouraging people to pray and ask God to know truth for themselves. Words your wrote.

Super great advice, by the way.

After the story time was over, a couple of us went over to see the temple up closer in the dark.

I don’t usually come to see you in the dark of night because most photography doesn’t come out so great when there isn’t light.

However, it was our lucky night.

Not only did we get to enjoy the “light” that these ladies shared with their sweet smiles and sunny stories earlier in the evening, the temple was lit up from the inside out. We could actually enjoy the beauty of the newly placed pieces of stained glass in the windows.

Way cool.

Brother Angel Moroni, we sure are enjoying you. Just so you know you are a topic of conversation around the whole Kansas City area.

I met a non-Mormon fella named Dave at the grounds recently who is doing the electrical work on the inside of the temple. He said the number one question he is asked is “What is the story with the golden angel blowing that horn?”

No worries, Brother Angel, I explained you.

And he liked your story.

Bob the Builder Award: Meet Mose Gingerich, the Amish "Harriet Tubman"

2011-05-17T08:31:00.000-05:00

The Girl stumbled upon it last night on the National Geographic station.

It is a documentary about young people who choose to leave or run away from their Amish community. Too bad for some of them and that electricity thing...some of them would find this blog very useful in their decision making.

Surprisingly, the largest population (and growing) of these folks is here in the middle of Missouri. Columbia to be exact. They have a leader.

And his name is Mose.

Mose is in the white t-shirt

of course I liked he was in shorts and work boots...

Mose is an "ex-amish" as they call them selves. He has been in "out in the world" (Amish translation: Satan's grasp) for 7 years and now runs a half-way house of sorts for those people who need to figure out how to get acclaimated in the "world."

He clothes them. Feeds them. Teaches them work skills that translate to this world. Helps them get birth certificates and social security numbers.

And helps them buy a car---their biggest desire.

I was deeply touched by his compassion, his sensibility, and groundedness.

I feel like I know a couple things about the Amish.

I know they make de-lic-ous bakery goods.
I know they wear plain colors and got a cool hat (well, actually Weird Al told me that).
I know they are simple, shave their legs, play Rook with friends, and use batteries and sky lights to supply light in their buildings.

I took a tour once of the Amish community about an hour from here. Their numbers doubled when they allowed their members to wear deoderant. And own trampolines.

I am part of a super "structured" religion and I am not one to go into the doctrines of another. I do like to learn about them. I have seen many, participated in many (the wine drinking of the catholics of Birmingham England was a fun one :) services, and it is not my place to worry about what the others ones are doing or believing.

What I learned last night that regardless of what religion, life experience, or social structure that someone may be departing, or leaving to live more as they choose to live, everybody needs a buddy.

A modern day "Harriet Tubman" as Mose called himself.

For whatever reason, I was feeling Mose and his role in life right now.

Maybe it is because we have another guest staying with us. Misti. A-dor-able. No offense to our last month African guests, but Misti speaks english. A plus. And doesn't fry goat. A double plus.

(speaking of goat, contrary to rumor, I do NOT know about the missing goats from the neighboring farm from down the street....)

I feel as though I have "Mose-d" a fair number of folks in this world.

But out of respect of God who has trusted me to do it and those who we have loved along the way, it is too private to be written here.

The documentary is going to be replayed if you are interested:
http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/episode/amish-out-of-the-order-4961/Photos#tab-Photos/0

Here is to you Mose.

Meet Me at the Eastern Gate

2011-05-09T00:05:00.000-05:00

This is what these last few days have felt like.

A glimpse of sunny at the end of the long stormy day.

The kind of sunny end that looks so neat friends

call each other all over the place to go outside to see it.

The kind of moment that makes you feel like
Wow, I am glad I stopped to see that.

Friday morning, on my way to the post office, I heard

that Tom was going to pass away.

Maybe in the next day or even two.

So Cheryl's box is still sitting in the truck,

waiting to be mailed as I write,

and I went to Tom's.

I held his hand.

I told him I was proud of him

for all these years he has endured.
Never whining. Never mad at God.

And I told him that he could leave

his broken body and be free.

He stared at me blankly.

I don't think he was there in his body

right then.

I know it doesn't make sense....but he was gone.

Only for a moment.

You know how I know.

Because he was resting comfortably.

For almost five years, we have watched him

sit, stand, lay, rock, jostle and every other

action verb you can utter in pain, trying to

be comfortable. And now,

with a cancer the size of a volleyball in his

stomach cavity, I can't imagine it is any

easier to find a way to position yourself

without pain.

That is what I noticed on Friday.
He was laying peacefully.
Like he was painless.

I even told my family later.

Hospice must have seen it too because

they lowered his pain meds.

Which, have been amped back up today.

Painless. It must feel so good to him.

There is something else that I said to him

Friday morning.

"Do you remember where we are going to meet?
In Heaven?" I said.

"Yes," he softly answered.
"The Eastern Gate."

Ahh. He remembered.

When my Grandma Ag died a few years ago,

there was an old Baptist song that my family

wanted played at the funeral.

"The Eastern Gate."

Some song from the 1940's.

Tom was kind enough to find it on the internet

for my mom to take with her to funeral.

If you know Tom,

a song from the 1940's is not his cup of tea.

I haven't been to Heaven.
I don't know if there is some sort of

information center there.

You know, one that will

have the outline of where everyone

is hanging out...sounding

trumpets or whatever it is

we will be doing in Heaven.

I like to have plans and details settled,

irregardless if it is Heaven or not.

So I asked Tom since he was going to

get there before me, could we meet at

the Eastern Gate and he could show me

around. Introduce me to some of his

friends. Give me a lay of the land.

For some reason,

feeling like I have some sort of control

that we will meet again in a place I wish to be real,

makes his passing a little easier.

That it isn't the end of our friendship.

LDS folks believe that families can be married

for eternity ("sealed")

which in turn means you will

already have some space staked out

together in Heaven.

So while the Allisons have

the comfort to know that they

will see their boy, Tommy, again and be

together, friends don't have that

"sealing" promise.

For people like me, who are raised to consider

friends to be like family, having an

"Eastern Gate" plan is a good start.

He thinks it is a fine idea...

as long as we don't have to sing the song. :)

Wanna hear it?
Here is a contemporary version of it:
(and I mean that in the loosest sense of the word)

http://www.angelfire.com/oh3/kenskorner/easterngate2.html

Tom is stable for now. He lived through the weekend.

The hospice people say he is "remarkable"

...this man that "won't be pinned."

Post script: Shoes count and temple fun run

2011-05-02T08:32:00.003-05:00

Two things:

The final count of pairs of shoes collected from Rotarians in northwest Missouri (see last blog entry) was 16,350. That means 16,350 children who were shoeless won't be anymore.

The Fun Run at the Kansas City Temple was held Saturday. It was a blast. Here is the blog post about it:
http://kcldstemple.blogspot.com/2011/05/run-chasers-run.html

Happy Monday Monday.
Valsy

A Two-fer: A field trip to Savannah, Missouri to see some Bob the Builders...

2011-04-28T22:55:00.000-05:00

Given the tradgy in the South today, I figured we could take a "vacation from our problems" for a moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I do not believe the day will ever arrive that I will grow weary of a good story.

A good true story.

Mel and Kathy said it best today when we watched Rotarian volunteers donate almost 2,000 pairs of collected children's shoes today in 30 minutes: all the good done in the world and there is no media here to share it.

That is where I come in.

I know, you are thinking, "But of course, Valsy, you ARE an all-powerful media type...clearly illustrating it is difficult to see the difference between you and Mogal Ted Turner..."

I saw the news this morning before we left.

My fellow Southerners (I bet you didn't know that I am a honorary GRITS: girl raised in the south--plus my ancestors are from Kentucky...the Kentucky that doesn't have pavement and that the local "convienence store" is someone's living room stocked with bags of stale pork rinds...Kentucky...seriously I have seen it)suffer. The town I served part of missionary work in Alabama was hit by a tornado last night. I cried when I saw it this morning. Those people are my friends. Wanna see what I looked like in 1990 when they met me?

I know there are many who suffer. As Dave says, I am "possessed" with charity for people who suffer. I carry them around in my mind everyday. My boy. Tom. Others. People I see on tv. People I don't know. People I never meet.

The dictionary says possessed is defined as having super-natural powers or madness. I think it could be a little of both.

Referencing back to Mel's comment today about no media covering the good we saw today, I am happy to do it.

Meet the head Bob the Builders for today: Larry and John. Both are super smart. Super talented. Super nice. Super compassionate. I would say they are "possessed" as well, but without the ratio of maddness that I have. These are some of my favorite folks.

Hi! We are rock stars in the Shoe World

Rotarians around the northwest part of Missouri collect money and/or shoes for orphans all year long. Larry said today that we have collected almost 200,000 pairs in the last few years. That is a lot, when the majority of the collectors live in towns without shoe stores or Walmarts. You do the math.

This is the inside of the semi truck...

this is only half of them so far

Rotarians are workers...no one stands idle

except the photographer...:)

My buddies Kathy and Mel rode along for the

field trip fun. Mel even dressed up!

As soon as he saw the box loading action, Mel jumped right in. They may not be Rotarians, but they have Rotarian hearts. That is why I brought them along. I knew they would love it...plus Mel could do my part of the heavy lifting!

After the shoes are collected, they are driven to Dallas, Texas

the home of Buckner International, folks who specialize in

providing services for orphans.

These shoes will end up all around the world.

I know it is a sad day. For many.

But I can think of about 10,000 orphans that it is a good day for. Thanks Builders.

Wanna take a field trip? How about the Tweed Valley, Scotland

2011-04-25T22:39:00.000-05:00

We were in the British Isles two years ago for a few weeks.

I posted blogs about Ireland. Northland Ireland. England. And just two measely pictures of Scotland.

The most beautiful part of the trip.

We got to Scotland in the blogging world, and I seem to remember some sort of medical traumas and upheaval so I never got to give Scotland the credit that Scotland was due. It has bothered me since.

If I (Scotland) had hosted me (Val), and I (Val) had raved throughout the entire countryabout how great it was, I (Scotland) would want me (Val) to rave to my (Val) adoring fans. Ok, fanS might be a stretch--meaning my mother and some old buddies from my past.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Long Overdue Ode to

The Tweed Valley,Scotland

(insert bag pipes here)

It was such a beautiful place that
I have nothing to say. Just enjoy the view

This is the view from our castle room

There you go Scotland.

Your beauty made me weep for joy.

I feel that I have now repaid my debt to you.

Thanks for hosting us. :)

Bob the Builder Award: 10 year old Donovan Parten and his origami cranes

2011-04-21T15:42:00.000-05:00

Isn't this as adorable as it is inspiring? :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kids create a flock of paper cranes to aid Japan
By MIKE HENDRICKS
The Kansas City Star

Donovan Parten is a regular kid. Plays baseball and soccer. Reads books. Writes stories. But he’s also a fiend when it comes to paper folding.

Paper airplanes. Origami. Donovan can keep at it for hours.

Which explains why his mom showed him the email she received last month from the makers of OshKosh clothing.

The pitch: Fold paper cranes, as in the bird that the Japanese see as a symbol of health and well-being, and for every crane delivered to one of the company’s stores, the head office will donate an article of clothing to Japanese kids who lost everything in last month’s earthquake and tsunami.

A cynic might have dismissed it as so much spam. But Kelly Parten saw it as an opportunity for 10-year-old Donovan to expand on one of his other interests — philanthropy.

or a fourth-grader, Donovan has quite the social consciousness. And while he doesn’t have money of his own to hand out to charity, he’s rabid when it comes to collecting box tops and pull tabs and whatever else the PTA is gathering to buy books for the library.
Still, Donovan had the same question I had:

“He asked, ‘Why don’t they just send the clothes over?’ ” his mom said. “ ‘Why do they want us to make cranes?’ ”

Answer: Because kids often feel powerless. Making paper cranes, while only symbolic, is a way to teach them that they have it within themselves to make a difference.

So Donovan started folding cranes. Dozens of them, but he couldn’t make them fast enough.

“I’ve got to figure out a way to make more of them,” he told his mom.

So he asked the principal at Christa McAuliffe Elementary in Lenexa if he could teach the other kids how to fold cranes because it’s sort of tricky.

Pretty soon lots of boys and girls were making cranes during free time and after school.

“I was surprised how many people came up to me at recess and helped me make some,” Donovan said.

Most times it’s kids doing what adults tell them to do, grudgingly. For once, the grownups stayed out of it.

“It was his vision and his initiative,” principal Kent Peach told me.

Now, with only days until the Monday deadline, the kids at Donovan’s school have made 400 cranes in response to OshKosh’s promise to donate up to 50,000 items of clothing.

“He started it, but everybody knows he couldn’t have done it by himself,” Kelly Parten said.

It’s a reminder for adults and kids both.

Speaking of grownups, I had to laugh as Donovan, his mom and I sat around their kitchen table in Overland Park the other day. I’d asked him what his next challenge might be.

Donovan looked straight at me, as if we were two old guys sitting at the corner bar, and said, “Whatever life throws at me.”

Yep, Donovan, life throws us all a curve now and then. So when you can, pay it forward.

Special Edition of Pictures from the Purse: Religious

2011-04-19T23:26:00.000-05:00

In honor of Easter's arrival, I thought it called for a showing of my collection of pictures from my purse (camera) that have a religious theme.

Enjoy.

from the Easter Inspirational section of the Walmart.

I bet Cecil DeMille did not know he would share

shelf space with Hannah Montana...

some people apparently don't get what a donation is...

I have never seen a "required donation"

Is that like our favorite oxymoron: best of the Bee Gees
(nothing personal Bee Gees, I like you...but it is a good

family joke on the Anderson side)

Annoyed wives know no religious boundaries

A sign at the thrift store run by the nuns

I like that they really mean it.

I didn't know a gorilla was known for gentle answers.

I have wondered who sat around and thought,

"you know, we should put an abstract of an angry gorilla

with a scripture...now THAT will speak peace"

The LDS folks didn't get the memo that God gave us

wine to lift our spirits. Shucks.

She does look happy.

Here is a little shout out for the Mormon artists.

These covers are done by LDS painters.
Found on books at the local Sam's Club.

Next to the autobiography of Cookie Monster.

(I bet Jesus liked Cookie Monster better

before he converted to veggies too)

From the car show

I liked this chapter title.

errr..something seems a miss here.

Does the guy with the gun need protective glass?

Once a very important LDS church leader told

me I was "cheeky." I had to look it up.

Maybe that has something to do with why

I am serving in the library? :) Again.

Like a time-out chair for Valsy.

These crack me up. I had to buy the beer once for Rotary.
This is what they got. I told them, "You never send

a Mormon to buy the beer...make the coffee....brew the tea."

They haven't asked since.

You know I am a friar, but I think I might have gone with

the Hebrew beer. I mean, it is the "Chosen Beer."

These are folks that don't shave their legs, wear buttons, use

mirrors, or have carpeting, but they have upgraded to

wheeled luggage. :) Priorities.

In seriousness though:

I can tease about all these funny images,

but there is truth to the Gospel of Jesus' words.

Even beyond that, just living a life that one

feels to be true and right.

I see it everywhere.

I saw it when I stood by a monk who has followed the Dahli Lama's

ways and given up everything material and earthly to live his truth.

I saw it just tonight when the boy scout and I counted out

4,537 pieces of candy donated by the LDS Church Ladies

for the Homeless Men's Shelter for Easter. I know,

nothing says "Celebrate the resurrection of the Saviour of

mankind" like Reece's peanut butter balls. But still.

I saw it when I secretly watched my one neighbor helping

unload another neighbor's bricks. Both neighbors,

of which, who have served our family.

I have seen it when the most talented people I know donate

(not a required donation mind you)

their time to children they don't know.

(this is all-powerful judge in the state of MO)

I have seen it when strangers come together to send

notes of encouragement in emails

to Japanese kids they will never meet.

Catching them before they fall.

To help lift them up.

I have seen it when people came from every walk of life

to say a proper good bye to a great man.

Who, as Dave so perfectly said, is great because he

doesn't try to be great.

I wish I was great like that.

I have seen it when my parents have

opened their home to probably hundreds

of people they don't really know

to help them feel welcome and cared about.

God bless my parents.

By the way, do you have Easter plans?
Let me know if you don't. We have room.

I see it in people who

serve with smiles.

The same kind of smiley people who sat in my

driveway recently and listened to my

heart ache. Free of charge.

I have seen it enlarge a heart.

I am prone to wander.

It is in my blood.

That is why I have so many strange

pictures of so many different things.

I hope in all my wanderings, I don't accidently

wander away from my truth.

There are words from a hymn that sum it up

perfectly:

Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,

Prone to leave the God I love;

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,

Seal it for Thy courts above.

Happy Easter.

Wanna take a field trip? Let's "staycation" in the yard

2011-04-15T18:04:00.000-05:00

"The best cheap family vacation or staycation can be in your own backyard. "

At least that is what the internet says. And you know everything on the internet is true, true, true.

In our case, it is a nice vacation. Cheap? Hardly.

When we were looking for our home here in KC, we had two very different desires.

I wanted a guest room that had four walls and a door that could be shut. I was sick of guests on the day bed in the tv room.

Mr. Fun wanted a nice yard.

Fortunately, the cost of living in Missouri is so much cheaper than Salt Lake, we both got what we wanted.

I no longer have to see other people's personal belongings and sometimes messes (including undies and pretzle wrappers) strewn about the family room in the basement.

Mr. Fun got his yard. A whole lot of yard.

The messes have simply moved outside.

This is last summer in it's green place

This week

You know Mr. Fun has 7 weeks of vacation basically coming to him this year. SEVEN. He never takes of days unless he is leaving town or excepting for one time of year (well, actually two:) 1. The holidays if his vacation days have to be used up and (drum roll please...) 2. work in the yard.

Let me introduce you to The Backyard.

I call the fish his "girlfriends."

Like his cell phone, computer and super giant tv.

Last summer

This is Tony Stewart. He has "googly" eyes.

He is all trouble.

I know it sounds dumb, but fish really do have

their own personalities.

This is Macaroni and Cheese

and Japan

This is the very expensive fish food that

the "locals" (translation: raccoons or oppsums)

found recently.

This is a "rain garden."

Princess Leah likes to look at herself in the mirrors.

One mirror I found on the side of the road and the

other at thrift store for $5.00

Red Buds

Pear Trees

We have a three tiered fountain that feeds into the

10 foot by 20 foot pond. I like the milky look.

I like the light squiggles look.

Such fancy horticultural names.

Japanese Maple.

I have thrown river pebbles almost

everywhere that grass won't grow

(that is what that gray is behind the Maple)

Buddah Frog.

Gifty from Dave and Carol.

This is the new feature on my new camera...

miniture toy. Cool eh?
This is really a life-size bridge.

Built by Tom and Bobert.

The real size version.

Tom and I built this Chinese Arch last fall.

The bridge is going to be over the

recirculating river bed we are building this year.

This is it's temporary home over the

Meditation Rain Garden.

(just getting in touch with my Asian roots)

We have guests. Lots of them.

Said fish food uninvited snack eater

Mr. Dragonfly of last summer

Migrating Monarchs

Creepy crawlies...yuck

I do love the look of the "eyes"

Coho. Yep, for you Alaskans,

Joe and Carol named him after the salmon.

The other morning from the front door

Some cats get out, some cats don't.

Cherry Bloosom

If you can't make it to DC for the festival,

come to Andersonville. I can dance

a festive dance and we could actually

celebrate "Festivus" in our evening hours

I sure love the pink and blue

Trees from the porch

I love that their colors are unedited.

Lovely Lotus from the pond last summer.

Here's a happy springtime to us all.

By the way, this is my 400th blog post. :)

Follow up: From our new friends in Japan :)--your emails are working

2011-04-10T17:34:00.000-05:00

Personal Note from Val: Masami sent two notes yesterday as follow up to the emails that have been going to Japan from around the world. Thank you. :) It worked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear Friends all over the world,

2 weeks have passed in a flash since we reported what happened in our daily life. We have found far more responses to this small e-mail. Far, far more than we could imagine, we have no words to show our gratitude for your warm encouragement.
We have found many wise words which would support us all through our future lives. The most deeply impressed word is "resilience" given by Dr. David L. Harris, USA. This means; "the power or ability to return to the original form, position, etc, after being bent, compressed, or stretched; elasticity. Ability to recover readily from illness, depression, adversity, or the like; buoyancy."

Though we are still in danger of being exposed to radiation affect, we will keep going with this word in our hearts.

Thank you, our friends, and good-bye for a while.

With a lot of gratitude from teachers and parents of Seiju Institute, Japan,

Fujiyo Goto, Masami Fujita (teachers)

Satoshi Sotome, Toshio Mori, Mitsumasa Sunaga, Michiyo Shimura, Michiko Onuki, Honami Hasegawa, Katsumi Tsukui, Saeki Oikawa, Keiko Ando, Akiko Shibaguchi, Hisao Shibaguchi, Tamao Okawa, Yuko Kamioka, Takashi Kawada, Nagisa Kawada, Tooru Nakamura, Noriko Kakizaki, Masako Tsukada, Chikako Kobayashi, Masaaki Kawabe, Shoko Arakawa, Toshio Arakawa, Toshio Mieda, Takashi Kameyama, Atsuko Kameyama, Ikuko Inoue, Saburou Kokubun (parents)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear. Friends who responded to my message, friends who forwarded my message to your friends, and friends who read my message,

Thank you very much for your most kind messages to my students. Your words touched their young mind and made them all smile and encouraged. To our surprise, we received over 100 e-mails from all over the world; from Israel, Sweden, USA, Canada, Australia, the UK, Sri Lanka, Romania, Czech, Paraguay, Korea, etc… and it still continues.

Our town is getting back to the normal, original state. Our local train started running on the 1st of April, and every high school has started at last. There is no cue of cars in front of petrol station anymore. No shortage of milk, eggs, or water any longer. We have fear about radiation problem, but we are reported that it is not very serious in our area. One thing is different; stores, restaurants, and offices try to turn off lights as much as possible, so the town is less bright than before; that is not a bad thing at all.

Thanks to your encouraging stories, many of my students have become more active, more energetic, and more confident to everyone’s eyes. Without your help, it could not have been possible.

One parent of 17-year-old boy wrote to me, "My families all appreciate these e-mails from all over the world and we cannot believe this is really happening. I had never thought of letting my child go by bike such a long way, in such a windy day. I considered it my duty to drive him everywhere. Seeing his fulfilled smile, I realized I had deprived him of his chance to be strong, to do what he could himself. – Apparently it makes him feel satisfied and his mind clearer to ride on a bike. He says that he had the most fruitful spring vacation in his life and enjoyed it a lot."

Another parent of the same age said, "My son had never tried to help his younger sister's homework, but now, to our surprise, he does. He seems to have confidence and looks like a different person. He used to take it for granted to be taken to the railway station by car, but now when I realize, his bike has gone already."

We received a lot of e-mails from students of Mariaskolan School in Stockholm, Sweden, and learned that they too learn at their classroom about Japan and discuss on this catastrophe. This made us think a lot, for those young as well as adults outside of Japan take this tragedy very serious as if it were their own. … Do we consider and discuss it thoroughly enough too?

Some of my students wrote a letter in English for the first time in their lives! I very well understand it is challenging for us, Japanese, to write in English because we use completely different letters from alphabet. It gave them some sense of achievement and happiness.

In the classroom, we talked about how we could spend our summer without electricity. We have very hot, humid summer – at hottest 40 Degrees Celsius with 90% humidity! Just thinking about our summer with no electricity was horrible enough to make us silent. After a while, one said, "we could put our foot in a bucket or container with water in it." Another said, "we could use our traditional fun, sensu." Then another, "we could have water frozen during night and put it on our neck!" It is a matter of triviality, but having such a conversation, we can look at our lives in a different way, find something we can do, and actually do it in our daily life.

They now hesitate to say, " I can't." Instead, "Maybe, I can." crosses their mind.

Many things have happened since the last e-mail. To our students, it was a memorable March, not as a horrible one, but as an honorable one.I'm sure they will remember this spring all through their lives.

Thank you, my friends, for putting these young students in Japan into your heart, caring about them and taking some time to write them your warm messages.

Your words are always with them. ARIGATO GOZAIMASU (Thank you very much).

Sincerely yours,
Masami Fujita
Sano, Tochigi, Japan

Guest Blogger: Masami from Japan needs your happy emails

2011-04-04T23:16:00.000-05:00

Her name is Masami. I met her in Montreal last year. As a member of the Rotary International RYLA Committee, I was in charge of the Rotarian counselors and their work with 150 young people who had gathered for the international conference.

Masami is as smart as whip. She is beautiful and kind. And she was humbled by her opportunity to serve as a counselor and mentor.

She struggled a bit, and we had a private conversation about how things were going.

Our buddy, Ash, translated for us to make sure I was understanding everything she wanted to say.

I will never forget how tenderly I felt about her when she cried.

"The Japanese don't cry," he said.

When we parted ways, we had a special look between us because of what we had shared. It was accident, of course, me seeing her cry. But her secret was safe with me. And she knew it. :)

I only tell you now because I want you to feel that same tenderness for Masami and her people and you will do something them. Write them an email.
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Dear My friends in the world,

Thank you everyone for the prayers for Japan. I’m very moved to receive many e-mails from the friends all over the world, worrying about this disastrous situation in Japan.

We, Japanese, have never imagined such destructive power of the earth. This was the biggest earthquake we ever had. The city I live and work in is midway right between Tokyo and Fukushima where the nuclear power plant is. So we are warned about vegetables and water polluted with radiation. Even though we are living under dangerous conditions, we have to live well, I think.

I teach English to the students aged from 10 to 18 at a small school in a town called Sano, Tochigi. Fortunately, my area hasn’t got a big damage, but now we can’t get electricity for three hours every day and local trains don’t run at all. We are running out of fuels for cars and heaters. Some people can’t drive. We can’t get milk, mineral water, or eggs from stores.

Because of the lack of train service, every high school has no classes, no extracurricular activities, or no sports at all. These students even cancelled all their plans of hanging out with their friends. This means, they have nothing to do all day long! – I take this situation very serious.

Adults are ok. We have to continue our daily work to live on whether we are under the threat of nuclear or not. But can you imagine how these young people spend their 24 hours at home without anything to do? They just sit in front of TV all day, locked in their houses.

As Rylarian and educator, I try to show them how to tackle with negative conditions like this. Especially in this difficult situation, one should stand up and do something that one can.

I said to them, “Let’s jump on your bike, come and study with your classmates. Your teacher, Masami is here in the classroom to teach you math and English as usual.” It was a sudden offer and they didn’t think they could come by bike from 20km away at first, but they managed it and studied harder than before.

For another occasion, we didn’t have electricity for one night. We couldn’t have a normal lesson without light, but instead of reading English text, we had a discussion, like you do for RYLA. One small light of candle was enough for us.

So here is my favour for my friends in the world. Would you please give these young people a message in English to encourage them to live their own normal life? They have already learned that they could do something if they have will to challenge.

Young people should not get depressed, but stand up and move on.

Even one line will do. Encouragement, cheers, or any comments!

It’d be great if you could start with; Dear/To/Hello, Masami’s students,
and end with; Your Name from Where You Are. For the first time of their lives, they will get e-mails from overseas.
How much they will be excited!
I’m very grateful for your cooperation.

Your friend in Japan,
With lots of love,
Masami
masamifujita41@yahoo.co.jp