We packed a lot into those nine April days we had in Salt Lake City after dropping the kids off in Rexburg; Jim, with his dash to Winnipeg for three days to be a Boeing Engineer (while on vacation), and working Thursday and Friday at the Boeing plant in Salt Lake (did I mention he was still on vacation,) Thursday and Friday mornings at the temple, Saturday afternoon spent at the Tulip Festival at Thanksgiving Point with a Barbeque that Janet put on at Jay Ann’s afterwards, Saturday evening bringing our Walton Family Curse to the BYU Men’s Volleyball Quarterfinal Championships in Provo, an incredible Easter morning with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and all week for me on a Search and Rescue mission in the dungeon of the Family History Library, with several very enlightening classes on English Probate and navigating the New Family Search thrown in to keep me completely aware of how little I really do know.
Just in case you were wondering, the Salt Lake Temple is 484 steps from the front door of The Kimball, and when you walk out at 4:44 in the morning and want to make the 5 a.m. session, that comes in very handy. Unless, of course, there is no 5 a.m.session, and then you realize it is the perfect opportunity to do sealings instead. Jim and I spent Thursday and Friday morning there and with the help of some sealing teams that were already in place, we were able to get nearly 100 of our ancestors sealed, including a pair of great grandparents, Thomas Dee and Grace Herbert, who were married in 1771 in New Windsor, Berkshire, England.
It really was an incredible experience, as at one point while kneeling at the altar, it hit me how much the lives of these people for whom we were being sealed would change. Husbands and wives, who till now have had to live separate and apart in the spirit world, would now be able to be together; whole families were now connected and no one’s progress would be stopped except by their own choices. And yet, even with the incredible events that were happening there in the sealing room, I had to smile when I glanced around once and noticed that Jim and I and the sealer were the only ones awake.
We do not end up for a week in Salt Lake City every spring and fall by chance. Spring flowers and autumn leaves on Temple Square leave the competition in the dust in my book. With the wild weather we’ve had lately, I was near to hyperventilating when we arrived the middle of April and the majority of the flowers were still debating on the merits of making their debut into such chilly circumstances.
By the following weekend though, a few more of the really brave ones had come up, and they were definitely worth the worry and the wait.
I am pretty sure these little feathered guys were probably getting tired of frozen dinners by now and looking for something a little more on the fresh side. (And there are TWO birds in this bush, not one.)
I am so glad that I do not have to choose favorites . . . it would be like asking which child you loved more.
And if you are just scrolling through these so fast you only see a blur of color – Shame on you. (In the next life, I hope you are stuck in charge of sanitation . . .)
There’s something rather ironic about Bleeding Hearts, Bachelors’ Buttons, and Forget-Me-Nots hanging out together so harmoniously.
Personally, I think Temple Square just radiates happiness—rain or shine-- and everything around it just soaks it up and sends it back out.
Up close and personal with the Bachelors’ Buttons who are sending it back out for all they are worth.
Up close and personal with an ex-bachelor’s buttons.
Who needs lights anyway?
Signs of “Cloudal Competition” . . . proving that they can explode with color just as much as the flowers beneath them.
The Church Museum of Art has opened a new exhibit on quilts. Friday night after a great dinner out, we stopped by. In the past, Jim has taken the kids there while I worked at the Library, so this was almost the first chance I’d had to just take my time, read all the plaques and enjoy the show.
This was my very favorite quilt. If I were a quilting sort of person, I would make this one – just in different colors. In fact, we were admiring the quilt when the granddaughter (not great granddaughter, JUST granddaughter) of the man who made it (he was born in 1860, mind you) happened by, and we visited with her for awhile. She’s just a little older than I am. Do the math on that little conundrum.
We were slowly meandering through the exhibit, when we looked over and saw Elder Marlin K. Jensen and his wife standing and talking with some people in the quilt exhibit room. Within about 10 minutes, some officials had brought in some folding camp chairs, a huge crowd had gathered and filled them up, and then it appeared they had a reunion of their ward long before when he was Bishop. Someone had made this quilt which had memories of specific families that had been in the ward back then. Jim and I had wandered off, but returned and just kind of hung out on the outside edge of the crowd for a while and listened to some of the stories he told as he pointed out different quilt blocks and everyone there laughed and reminisced together. At the end, he promised them some great refreshments for their patience, but we didn’t feel too much like crashing their party.
I slow down for flowers. Jim slows down for ships, bridges, pallet racks, I-Beams, construction, connections, moments, cavitation and motorcycles.
A bird’s eye view of the scene between decks that Jim is looking at on the ship up above.
Ryan Murphy – at the top of my list of “Wanna Be Like When I Grow Ups.” He is assistant director of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir under Mack Wilberg. We don’t miss Thursday night choir rehearsals when we are in town.
Everything about this temple just says to me, “BUILT TO LAST—Come what may.”
Do these little marvels not look to you like they are lit up from the inside?
And here’s another marvel lit up from the inside. We were just walking home near here and we heard someone call, “President Walton!” We looked around, and there was our new home teacher and his wife who just moved into our ward. We had a great visit. Jim was impressed with his dedication.
If I actually had favorites, these Ranunculi would be right there on top – well, at least right beside the pansies below, and the, Oh heck – never mind, I love them all.
How often have Jim and I taken the time to just wander through the Visitor’s Center, stop, and enjoy it? What a wonderful way to spend the evening Easter Sunday.
It’s so fun to walk around Temple Square and hear these guys saying, “Choose me!!! Choose me!!!” I have no problem obliging; they hold still, don’t get tired of posing and they’re so photogenic.
And here’s one amazing guy that’s lit up from the inside, has an explosively colorful personality, radiates happiness, makes my life so worthwhile AND does it with a smile. Definitely my favorite. Get your own.
This concludes Part 1 of 3.
:) I think Dad is my favorite too, but those flowers are amazing, I can't believe all the color that they have. You take really really good pictures.
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