From The Crossroads of the West

At four in the blessed morning on Friday, we crammed the little Toyota full of Aubrey’s stuff for college, and my and Jim’s stuff for our week here in Salt Lake.  As long as no one needed to breathe too deeply or sneeze we fit just fine.  I found myself fondly recalling all the space I had the last time I flew on a crowded airplane.  Nevertheless, we arrived in Rexburg in good time and even though our GPS lady had never heard of Darren’s address, and the driver of our little stuffed sausage didn’t feel like calling for directions, Darren saw us from his third floor window wandering around and guided us into the right spot to park—a good block from where he lived.  

We were just in time for a loaf of Darren’s famous french bread--famous because it was his first attempt and it actually tasted like french bread.

 

Darren and Richelle were both busy in the kitchen working on dinner as well.  Next time we eat there, I’m taking my dictionary of cool and unusual foods--I can’t remember half the names of the stuff we ate, but it was incredibly tasty. 

Since we couldn’t all fit around their dinner table made for only 4 very tall people, they improvised and used the coffee table.  There was just one problem . . .

Darren’s stool from their kitchen table was a LOT taller than the coffee table.

In many ways, Aubrey is very fortunate to have her big brother around. You’ll know exactly what I mean by the end of this blog.

Here she is with the “crazy quilt” that  Darren wanted her to make for his wedding.   It was to be as random and off the wall as he is.  I have to say that it’s definitely Darren.

It was now time to move Aubrey into her new apartment.  This would prove to be an Experience.

 

 

 

 

She found herself following him around and undoing his mischief.  But were we ever grateful for all his help and muscle work.  He just keeps things lively WHILE working.  And, by the way, he has found a major he is quite excited about.  But I should let him tell you about that on his blog.

She wasn’t too pleased to walk in to her bedroom and have him pop out of  here and scare her to death.

After Darren was safely back with his wife, we helped her rearrange her furniture and spent many hours helping her organize her bedroom, closets, and food supplies.  The lucky 5’2” freshman was left with a shelf she could only access with a ladder—which incidentally, we had to purchase at Wal-Mart ourselves..

Bajio’s.  One of our favorite places to get great Mexican food.  Too bad there isn’t one in Washington.  Oh well, maybe we’ll visit Rexburg again.  The party had to end sometime, though before we left, we took Aubrey back to her place where Jim was able to give her a very comforting and encouraging father’s blessing. 

Darren has already had her over for Sunday dinner, run her to the store, and just had her over to hang out.  They are within walking distance, which is nice for Aubrey.  Somehow, I just feel better about knowing he is around.

Back on the road again.  Jim with his headphones on listening to “Elantris,” a book that all four of our sons loved, and what kept Jim awake on the way to Rexburg, and me, trying to not stay awake and get some sleep that I hadn’t had much of in two days.

We stopped by Layton on our way down to Salt Lake and had a wonderful, though quick, visit with Uarda and her family.  The family had been working on their “square foot gardening” project when we arrived.  Notice how hard they have worked.

Those kids weren’t the only ones working . . .

Uarda and I had a devil of a time working those rocking chairs and supervising as well.

 
When things get tough, the tough get moving – UP. 

Candace was next door jumping on the trampoline and not about to be lured over to talk to some strange aunt and uncle she didn’t know from Adam’s off ox.  This is what you call a Zoomed Lens Shot from very far away.  I couldn’t even tell what she looked like till I saw the picture today.  And Davis?  Somewhere in the same local vicinity as Candace, but I couldn’t quite pick him up on my radar.

 Home Sweet Home for the week. 

Attending “Music and the Spoken Word” is something you just don’t miss, not even if you are rushing to get ready after you have washed your hair, wonder out loud where your curling irons are and hear an agonized, “Oh no. . .” from the other room.  Not even if they were left in Rexburg hundreds of miles away by a helpful husband who stuck them on his son’s washer and dryer out of sight while thinking, “I’m going to forget these . . .”  Not even if you have to walk into the tabernacle looking like something the cat drug in.

 

We always sit on the balcony on the south side so that we can watch the organist play and Mac Wilburg conduct.  It’s kind of fun to watch the cameramen at work as well.

The detail on that tabernacle organ pipe is amazing.

You can have your movie stars and super athletes, I’ll take Andrew Unsworth and Mac Wilberg any day.

 I  lost Jim in the crowds as we were listening to the sisters speak in different languages.  Thank goodness for cell phones.

Well, we enjoyed a leisurely walk home after the broadcast, with nearly an hour until church started.  We always attend the Salt Lake 16th? Ward right behind the conference center where Jim’s aunts attend.  We walked into the chapel at five minutes till eleven and there was no prelude.  In fact, there was no nothing.  The lights were on but the place was vacant.  After asking around, we found out it was stake conference for the Salt Lake Stake and it was happening right that very minute in the Assembly Hall.  So with me in my black heels sounding just like those horses that give carriage rides we went running back to Temple Square and finally found a seat up in the back of the balcony.We had to ask a group of missionaries to scoot over and give us room.  They moved just enough for all of Jim and half of me. 

The conference  was presided over by two general authorities as they were putting in a new stake presidency.  Their stake president had just been called as a mission president to Moscow.  Elder Hallstrom gave an incredible talk on Reverence and what it really means.  Jim was taking notes as fast as he could and I was wishing I was as prepared with a pen and paper.  The spirit was very strong.  

 

We spotted Jim’s Aunt Bonnie in the stake choir at the front of the Assembly Hall, but trying to find her after the meeting was a challenge since it was so crowded and we were at the back.  All the exits were packed and trying to walk down the side aisles was impossible.  You have to side shuffle because the benches are only about 8 inches apart--literally.  We split up.  Jim tried to follow her from the front and I ran out the back and tried to head her off at the pass.  We eventually all connected up – he had found both Aunts whilst I was chasing the wrong lady in pink. 

Aunt Fern and Aunt Bonnie are both Senior Sister Missionaries and work in the Family History Library.  Fern works down in the dungeon on the British Isles floor where I always live and it’s sort of like having your own guardian angel around.  They each have really neat roommates who are also Senior Sister Missionaries.  Bonnie has done family search indexing and has already done over 428,000 names and is now in charge of all the tours that happen at the Family History Library.. They invited us over for dinner, which was fabulous, and after eating, Jim wanted to know more about his great grandmothers.  We heard incredible stories and saw pictures of Jim’s father when he was young that he’d never seen.  The very strangest thing, was that his Dad at 14 looked remarkably like Darren at that age  Jim went back over tonight while I worked on this and scanned all those old pictures.  I have no pictures of our time with Fern or Bonnie, since we walked to their condos straight from stake conference.  But I will get some later this week.

Here’s the picture of Grandpa, he’s the little blonde between the two youngest girls and is the youngest boy in the picture.

 

We later walked around temple square again, purely to take pictures of the flowers.  I just feel like this has to be a taste of what heaven is like.  How can you not believe that God loves you when you see all he created for us to enjoy.

 

This is one VERY patient husband.  He literally just followed me around and sat while I crouched here and there, taking pictures, without the slightest hint of embarrassment on his face for being connected to me.

Aren’t these these fuzzy little baby guys in front the coolest looking things ever?

 

You like warm colors best?  They’ve got them.

You prefer the cool colors?  Not to worry – they’ve got it covered.

I can’t see bleeding hearts without remembering Grandma Walton in our backyard taking them apart while telling a story.  I don’t remember the story, but I do remember she had one.  And I’m sure it was good.

This has to be one of my favorite pictures.  Until I see the other ones.  Then I just love them all.