Dog Lovers

Pippi and me are not the first dog lovers in the family. Front row middle and front row right depict ancestors from the 1800's who seemed to like their dogs.

High School Sports: Seven Facts for Parents

1) The coaches lie to you at the first parent meeting. When the coach tells the parents, "If you have any questions or concerns, please come and talk to me," don't believe it. It's a lie. Don't EVER do this. They say this because it sounds reasonable and good, but they don't mean one word of it. They don't even want to know who you are. If you come to them with a concern, they will penalize that child, and any other children you have coming up probably won't make the team.

2) If a kid's parents are teachers at the high school, that kid will make the team and will play. It doesn't matter how good he/she is.

3) If you are a Mom and want to be popular with the other parents, i.e. Moms, you have to do all the team support activities they dream up. If you don't do all that stuff, you won't be liked. Most of the activity-doing parents won't even talk to you. A few will be blatantly rude and hostile. This is their attempt to make you get in line. Ostensibly, their reasoning for being rude to you is that you must not care about your kid if you don't decorate lockers, make treats for the bus, go to the home game basketball dinners etc. They won't look at anything else that you do or have done that shows you care. The only barometer of caring is your participation in the activities they create. If you are a Dad, you can decline to do the activities without penalty.

4) Parents wanting to escalate the number and frequency of activities always win out over parents wanting to scale down the parent activities.

5) If the coach has a kid on the team, that kid will be favored. Coaches will swear this isn't true. They will declare they are harder on there own kids than the other players, etc. They may be harder on their own kid at practice, but the coach's kid will get the majority of playing time in a game, no matter how good another player in the same slot is. Ask about Coach Keller and his boys if you don't believe me, or just observe this situation. You'll find I'm right.

6) It isn't about building character, it's about winning. I wish I had a dollar for everyone who justified the amount of money and time devoted to sports in the schools. The justification is that kids build character by participating and learn skills that cross over into their adult life by their sports participation. The question is: are coaches teaching good character values and beneficial skills? There are a few coaches who have a firm belief in honesty, integrity, fairness, faith, and priorities. These coaches can build good character in their players because they have good character themselves. My observation is that most contemporary high school coaches don't have a solid understanding of what good character is, but they do understand winning and losing.

7) High School sports participation will probably not be the most positive experience a child has in high school. I found that my kids had more positive experiences and more caring mentors when they participated in music and drama. I will admit, though, that having a child in sports has immeasurably more prestige than participation in the other activities. Overall, I believe if a child wants to participate in sports, he should do it because he loves it. Parents should support their kids in the way that parents believe is most beneficial to the child. Maybe the over-arching lesson here is that both parents and kids have to think for themselves and make their own decisions, regardless of peer pressure.

Freezeout Lake

We went on a trip to Freezeout Lake. Each year about 100,000 Snow Geese come to Freezeout for a few days to rest and recuperate on their way north to Canada. We arrived on Saturday when most of the geese were done with their rest. Only 40,000 remained. My camera lens was not wide angle enough to come close to capturing all the geese in a frame. This line of geese extended down the lake on either side of the picture.



Wilbur and Charmain were my bird watching companions. We found out that Freezout lake lives up to its name. With a sharp blowing off the snow covered peaks of the Bob Marshall and off the cold water, we were freezing!



A few birds would start to take flight. Then all of them would take to the air simultaneously. Thousands of birds all taking flight at once was quite a sight and sound.





Without looking at a map, see if you can guess the name of the closest community to Freezeout Lake and the economic base of that community.





And so our saga ends. We left the area and returned to mining country and cow country. (Moo Cows! Moo Cows! Family inside joke.)

Power of Choice

We choose our actions. But we don't get to choose the consequences.

It's A Party!

Last week Hermione and Eglantine were home for their birthday. As we lighted the birthday candles, 2 year old Peanut burst out, "It's a party!"

House Hunting

I am giving up. I am looking for a nice, peaceful cave in the mountains. I am henceforth keeping company with bears, elk, and an occasional rock chuck. I have never fit it with the rest of woman-kind, and it is unlikely I will start now. When God handed out decorum, dignity, and poise, I was down at the creek trying to untangle my fishing hook, complete with worm, from my hair. At one time, I hoped to be known for something generally held to be positive: my great success, my great kindness, my great intellect, my great wealth, or my great talent. But after this week, I see clearly that my role in life is to be the ape in the drawing room, the hippopotamus decked out in a tutu, the lady whose red and white polka dotted pantaloons are sticking out. Have you ever seen the TV show Reba? Well, I am Barbara Jean with moral values. I am the lady who leaves the restroom with toilet paper trailing down her pant leg. I am the gal who, the only time she appears in a television interview, has a booger in her nose.

I had a friend who once told me, “You don’t like to be in the limelight, or even close to it.” Well, now you know why. If I were in the limelight, it would only show that my zipper was down, and I had a mascara smear running from my nose to my chin.

Our Day in Court

Last Thursday the Webelos and I visited the court. They had a blast. The Judge was a former Webelos Leader. How fortunate can a troop be? She ran a mock court for them. They took turns being sworn in, examining the witness, sitting in the jury box and being the judge. They loved it!

Brown Eyed Susans

Brown Eyed Susans can be pretty in the winter too.

Summarization

As far as this weekend went, would swear words on a blog be REALLY that wrong?

Welcome, Little Valentine

Our Little Valentine arrived yesterday evening - Valentine's Day across the sea. Welcome, little Valentine.

Some Things Don't Change

Last week while working on my project scanning my grandparents' papers and pictures, I opened a packet of letters. The letters were tied together with a thin red ribbon. Three of the letters I read were letters of condolence to my grandparents. My grandparents had a son named Robert Theodore Robertson, born 29 August 1912 and died 17 November 1913. When my grandparents were operating their dairy cattle stock farm at Pompey's Pillar, Robert died of some illness. As I read the letters, I considered how a family's agony in losing a child has not changed . Many years have passed since 1913. Innumerable technological advances have occurred. But people still need the support of their friends and family during tragedy. That has not changed either. Time heals wounds if we want it to. That is also the same.
Sunday I taught my Primary class a lesson about Adam and Eve being taught the gospel. The thrust of the lesson was that Adam and Eve were taught the same gospel that we have today. It has not changed either. We still have the same principles, the same ordinances, and the same way back to our Father. Sometimes I get caught up in all news, new government programs, new advances, new distractions, and new demands for my attention. When that happens, I envy the simpler life of my family that came before me. But I am not so different than they are. The basics do not change.
The following are the first pages from two of the letters my grandparents received:


Letter to Maude Brodock Robertson and O.D. Robertson from Maude's sister Georgia
Letter from Clara Bompart Brewer to Dunc and Maude Brodock Robertson. Clara was Dunc's cousin.

Quilt

This week I made a baby quilt for grandchild number 10. I used some left over hearts from Grandchild number 2's quilt since the newest arrival is supposed to happen close to Valentine's Day. I have a very expensive quilt rack where I hang quilts to photograph them.

My Grandparents' house

A few years ago a cousin gave me some pictures she had of my family. Most of the pictures were taken at my grandparents house. The extended family raved about my beautiful sisters often. I was conspicuously absent from the raving. Looking at these pictures, now I see why. I must have had the longest awkward phase in the history of the womankind. I think I am still going through it.

Neighbor Mike Stowe, cousin Ken, cousin Bonnie, little sister, big brother, big sister

Things to Do When It Gets Dark at 5:30 in January

1) Play hide and go seek in the dark. Give "It" a flashlight, turn off all the lights in the house, send everyone else off to hide. "It" looks for everyone who is hiding in the dark with the flashlight.

2) Light a candle or use a battery operated candle. Place a blanket on the floor and read stories.

3) Light a fire in the fireplace and cook hot dogs over the coals.

4) Treasure hunt for a bag of M&Ms. Hide clues all over the house.

5) Read some of Little House in the Big Woods in front of the fireplace.

6) By candle light, tell the kids about when they were littler or when you were little.

7) Turn off all the lights, shine a flashlight or light and make pictures on the wall or silhouettes with your hands.

8) Tape paper to the wall, shine a light on the side of some one's face and draw the silhouette on the paper.

9) Use the flashlights like a light saber and have a light saber battle - You're out if you touch anyone.

10) Do Lehi's dream with the rope tied to evenly spaced chairs for an iron rod, darkness for the mists of darkness, and pan of water, and a treat near the tree of life. Have a light near the tree.

January Shopping

Some days I could just scream when shopping in this town. I wish I had a buck for every time a merchant told me, "We don't have any of those, but we could have some in in a week...." I remember one April 15th in the late 1980's that I scoured the whole town looking for a manila envelope to mail in our income taxes. There was not a manila envelope to be found in the entire town. Finally, the manager of Buttreys gave me one he had in his office. This nice man didn't even charge me. Another time, in February or March I could not find pencils anywhere. I am not talking shopping for a Rolls Royce here. I could not find pencils, for Pete's sake.

Then, there was the time I escorted Grandma L. all over town trying to find a battery for her watch. After several unsuccessful inquiries, a lady at K-Mart kindly explained that the battery needed was a very common one needed for a lot of things and was in high demand that time of year (Thanksgiving), and they always run out. Yeah, I thought, and knowing that, we wouldn't make our order a little larger would we?



Shopping in January is even more impossible than the rest of the year. First, a lot of the stores were closed for inventory, so I can't shop at all. Then, it seems stores must want to whittle that inventory down because products are sold out. My dog's feet bleed when we hike in the snow, so I was looking for pet boots. I just learned that such an item exists, and I felt like a complete idiot asking the clerk if the store carried such a thing. I mean what's next, ski equipment for my mutt? Both pet stores told me they were all sold out of the size my dog would need. "We had sixty pairs of those back in December," one clerk told me. Thanks for sharing. That tidbit of information does me so much good now. Another store, same story. "We get sold out of those quickly when it snows." I guess ordering more is a presposterous idea. After all, people would just come in an buy them again.



After searching for the dog boots, I beat the brush for a certain type of insole for shoes. The sporting goods store recommended them to me and sold me this item in June. In January they only had this item in children's sizes. " We won't be getting in any more in until spring." From this information the only logical conclusion is that adults in my town run around barefoot all winter, but in the spring they don shoes with the special insoles. Well, if if the citizens of my town get cold feet maybe they can borrow the snow boots they bought for their dogs for Christmas.

Christmas Tablecloth

After making my Christmas presents, I FINALLY had time to make my Christmas tablecloth yesterday. Orville and Wilbur are making fun of me. Get home soon Hermione. I need feminine company.

Orville Arrives

In the time Honored tradition of all college attendees everywhere, Orville arrives with every piece of clothing he owns ready for the wash.

When the Kitchen Belongs to the Man

He made the announcement.
I cleared out.
Party Mix is what he's all about.



For several weeks,
He's shopped around.
Nuts and cereal now abound.





Hand-picked crackers,

Lots of nuts.

Our Party Mix has lots of guts.

He cranks up the stove.
He stirs and measures.
The smell of Party Mix is a pleasure.

Our family tradition of 32 years.
He began making it,
In our younger years.

So here's to traditions.

Make some of your own.

Before you know it, your children will be grown!

Teaching in Primary

The first Primary class I taught was a nightmare. It was 1977, and I had a four month old baby. The class had grown too large and had lots of problem students. So the Presidency decided to split the class. The teacher of the too-large class must have had some input into how the class was split because, mysteriously, all the problem students ended up in my class. All the children who behaved were inexplicably placed in the other teacher's class. I liked the kids in my class about as much as I like paying income tax. Without question, the feeling was mututal.

When I remember that experience the phrase "Cold War" keeps coming to mind. In those days I gave lipservice to the idea that we love those we serve. But I had no idea how to love a bratty kid who was entertaining herself by doing hippopotamus imitations and voicing the opinion that she was mimicing my behavior to perfection. Most of the time I was in survival mode. I felt destined to fail at anything important. I had a small baby that I failed to nurse, and so she had constant ear infections. I didn't finish college because I married. So I was a failure to my mother, and she told me so. I was trying to deal with a nasty bout of post-partum depression, which the other new mothers around me did not seem to have. There was no health insurance that offered me any kind of medical help. My husband was still an apprentice at his vocation and made just enough to scrape by, if nothing unexpected came up. At the time, I had no friends in town, only acquaintances, and no one to talk to. There might have been a support system at church, but I was scared spitless to open up to anyone. I wasn't hanging by a shoestring, I was hanging on the edge of the Grand Canyon by bloody fingernails. To be sentenced every week to teach kids who were collecting scalps by running off Primary teachers, set my cup of gall overflowing.

When the call came to be the Stake Young Women Sports Specialist and create a whole new Young Women's sports program, I accepted it in a flash. The words, "You might need to be released from your current calling..." were no sooner out of the man's mouth than I was on the phone to the Primary Presidency telling them I had to be released: IMMEDIATELY

After that experience, I avoided teaching Primary like I avoid bears when I'm hiking. To me, both were deadly. After raising five childen, returning to finish college, having callings in almost every other organization, and working in a job I loved for ten years, at age 53 I was given two Primary callings: one in Cub Scouts, one as a teacher. These have been my favorite callings of all time. I've found it easy to like and love the kids. I've found when they know you like them, they want to behave. I love planning activities that are fun because, doggone it, I don't want to be bored anymore than my scouts do. I love the satisfaction of seeing the kids learn or achieve something. Probably because I am not stressed to the point of breaking, I can laugh with the kids. After sitting through some lessons where I was pretty darn bored, I can understand when children act up a little. I love getting know them and enjoy their unique personalitites. So, here's to hoping my next year in Primary is as great as this year has been.

New Stories about My Grandpa

My cousin works for the Tri-City Herald. Below is a link to one of the editorials that he wrote. The article contains a story I never heard before about my grandfather:

http://www.tri-cityherald.com/942/story/208866.html

I have another one I heard from my Cousin Greg, but I'm not so sure I want to publish it online.

And here is another one from my cousin Bobby who is the first of O.D. Robertson and Maude Brodock Robertson's grandchildren:

Do you remember the trap door in the kitchen at Grandma and Grandpa Robertson's house? Grandpa kept a wolf in the root cellar under the kitchen. The reason I know:

When my mother, your Aunt Neve, was pregnant with my sister Mona in Missoula, the doctor ordered complete bed rest for her if she hoped to carry the baby. As a result, I was sent to Helena to live with Grandma and Grandpa Robertson. I was 5 years old, and Grandpa Robertson told me about the wolf who would eat me if I ever tried to open the trap door in the kitchen. Well, the day before Easter, Uncle Les (who lived up the hill in the little white house) brought me a HUGE decorated Easter Egg in a clear cellophane box, and Grandpa put it up on the shelf by the clock in the kitchen, over the west windows. I was told I could open it and eat it on Easter Sunday morning. So I went to bed dreaming of that beautiful Easter Egg. The next morning, I ran into the kitchen in my pajamas to claim my Easter Egg. But the wolf had found the Easter egg and eaten more than half of it. It had his big, jagged teeth marks all around it. I was horrified. What if he hadn't found the Easter Egg? He might have eaten me!

I was in high school before Uncle Les 'fessed up and said he and Grandma and Grandpa had carefully carved the Easter Egg to look like it had been eaten by the wolf with long fangs. He roared with laughter when he told me and said, "You should have seen your face when you saw what was left of the chocolate Easter Egg, and we told you the wolf had eaten on it; your eyes were as big as saucers! Grandma told me she tried to stop them from spoiling my Easter, but the men loved chocolate. That wolf made sure I behaved when I was living with the grandparents - I didn't want anyone to let him out of the trapdoor to the cellar.

Bobby

High Tea

Every year there is a High Tea held for the Festival of the Trees. Below are picture I took. To really get a good view, click on the picture. This year my friend Charmaine sponsored a table and she invited me! Also invitees were invited to come an hour before the tea to look at the beautifully decorated Christmas trees. Each table hostess specially decorates her table. The women in pink in the background was co-hostess with Charmaine. She wears her Victorian dress to several historical events around town. Below are other tables sponsors decorated. We were served tea or herb tea, scones, tea sandwiches and chocolate mouse and petite foires (correct spelling please, Prudence ).

Charmaine, our hostess.

Eloise brought hats for us all to wear.

More tables.