| I admit to being part of the problem, but this years' fall camping trip was definitely under represented on this site. Everyone (including me) seemed happy to let someone else provide documentation. |
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None-the-less, I thought it went well, even if some of the participants (who will remain anonymous) lacked a sense of humor. Come on, those were great jokes--almost as good as AJ's cheesecake. |
| Dave Elliot commented to me later that there was nothing he could bring to augment the event--we had everything campers could need. I suspect that is a bit of an overstatement, but I felt we were comfortable. |
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One slight problem was the mouse/packrat who attempted (with some temporary success) to construct a nest in the engine compartment of my car. In fact, he/she/it tried on consecutive nights. There is some possibility that the animal followed me home, as a similar nest builder took up residence in the drawers in our lapidary shop. It took a week and four nests before I figured out that I could discourage the critter by leaving all the drawers and door standing wide open. |
| And speaking of lapidary, the 16 inch blade in my large saw doesn't seem to cut as quickly as it once did, especially when used on stone approaching its maximum capacity. So, I set out to obtain a replacement. I wanted a good one, and eventually settled on a MK-301 which, based on my perusal of the internet, seemed to be the industry standard. Depending on the vendor, the price for this particular blade varied from $200 to $450, which seemed to be quite a large range. To me, even the lowest price of $200 for a steel disk 16 inches in diameter and 1/8 inch thick seemed a bit high. You would think that for that price it ought to be studded with diamonds. Oh... yeah... It is... |
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My lapidary efforts have been confined mainly to bolo ties. This is one of my more gaudy creations, but I like it. |
| I didn't realize just how long AJ's truck was until I parked it in my carport. One look says it all. No wonder I only got 12.359 mpg when I borrowed it to take Nathen's engine up to Springerville. |
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If there were ever any doubt, it is now official: Barbara is one of those "cat people." Without a doubt, this is a face only a mother could love. |
| The feline now inhabiting our house has a propensity for high places, and is not adverse to including Barbaras' back and shoulders when apropos. Barbara thought the behavior was kind of cute until claws were employed to maintain balance. |
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This image was taken since our last letter. It doesn't seem that long, but Janelle has doubled in size and increased orders of magnitude in abilities. |
| I can remember thinking that my kids were never going to grow up. Never, never, never. |
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In reality, the younger the child, the faster they change. |
| Ethan celebrated another birthday and (probably by luck) I managed to attend. |
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I also (again probably by luck) managed to attend a football game in which Ethen played. |
| I brought my Nikon to compare it to the newer model Terra acquired recently. They are remarkably similar and, after playing with theirs, I had more luck with my telephoto lens. To my eye, these images still look a bit fuzzy. |
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It has been a long long time since I sat in the bleachers and watched a pre-college football game. What? No hotdogs? |
| It seems like there have been an unusually large number of funerals for people I know in the recent past. |
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Maybe that is a sign of growing older... |
| Jon's kids came to stay with him for the month of August, and we were able to go two times to Phoenix to spend a day with them. It was kind of fun. Pictured from left to right are: Owen, Desirae, Barbara, Daniel, Alan and Kaleb. |
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When Daddy (aka Grandpa LeFevre) passed away, Lois said she would deal with getting a headstone for him. Unfortunately, her health was such that she joined him in death before being able to accomplish that task, so I and my siblings undertook the project. For the four of us to agree on anything is a minor miracle (comparable to walking on water), so in the end, I capitulated and we moved forward. We had intended to be present when the stone was installed, but the conflicting schedules on our part, coupled with an obdurate attitude on the part of the headstone manufacturer, made this impractical. Our second choice was to visit the cemetery, and inspect the stone in the late summer, or early fall, but our shared propensity for procrastination being what it is, we finally made the visit in a winter rain/snow storm. After a couple of minor adventures, I arrived home with my car covered in salt. |
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The Provo Cemetery will only allow three local companies to set headstones, and these companies will only set headstones that they produce. The Federal anti-trust laws probably prohibit this arrangement, but not being the litigious type, I elected not to explore legal recourses. Instead, we ended up paying above market price for the marker, and invoked an Irish blessing on those involved in this nefarious scheme. To my dismay, when we finally saw it, the headstone was not set even close to level. One end was a minimum of three inches lower than the other. I inherited a sizable portion of my mothers' fastidiousness, and I can assure you that she would have never approved. To be that far off in that short of a distance, the workers who set the stone must have been blind, inebriated, or both. In his younger days, Mark could have done a better job than that, while being chased by a bear. I was a bit unhappy, but the crowning indignity occurred on the way home, when Karren called Walker Monument, and told them what a good job they had done. |
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Okay, I'm through complaining. The headstone is in place. It says what it needs to say, and the world can again, spin on its axis. Given our locations, our ages, the status of our health, and the distance to the Provo Cemetery, it is not unreasonable to guess that neither myself, nor any of my siblings, will ever see that headstone again. In the unlikely event that any of you are in the area and want to visit the grave, Daddy is buried in Lot 119, of Block 8, of the Provo City Cemetery, 610 South State Street, Provo, Utah, 84606, Office Phone: 1-(801)-852-6607. |
| I also said goodbye to another longtime trusted friend recently. My paperback copy of Roget's Thesaurus had deteriorated to the point that more pages were loose than were bound and, with heavy heart, I tenderly laid it to rest in the trash can. Henceforth, I will be constrained to the malleable mush mouth listed in the limited online lexicons. |
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