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I have been trying to write this letter for quite some time. Somehow though, it never seemed to reach the number one spot on my list of priorities. At any rate, a number of things have transpired.  |
| Perhaps one of the most significant, is the fact that Symantha moved to Tucson. After much soul searching (and perhaps grinding a few molars), she decided to give up the good life working for Walmart, and sample the vagaries of the big city. We (Nathen, AJ, myself, and a nephew of Terre's whose name escapes me at the moment) showed up on her doorstep (with a trailer borrowed from Jim), and two hours later we were on the road again... When I left home for school in 1964, my worldly possessions fit nicely into two suitcases. Four years later when I came home for the summer, my possessions filled my 1959 Rambler station wagon to just over the level of the seatbacks. Upon reflection, I think Symantha is acquiring "goodies" a rate about 8 times as fast as I did. I hope she doesn't end up with a house that looks like mine... |
Symantha took some time off (between jobs) to visit family and attend the reunion. Her vehicle, sensing (with an undefined mechanism particular to old machinery) that she might be momentarily financially insecure, chose this time to make an editorial comment. It basically died trying to climb out of Salt River canyon. Symantha replaced it with one reputed to be more reliable (in spite of it's lemon pear tomato color). This "new" car has rolled down the road at least 280 K miles. Since I have "been there" on more than one occasion, I am keeping all my fingers crossed and holding my breath (neither of which is particularly good for my nascent arthritis). I took off the Friday prior to the reunion, drove to Holbrook, and transferred the land in Woodruff to my name. To those of you who thought that would never happen, I quote two platitudes: 1. Patience is a virtue, and 2. All things come to those who wait.
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  The reunion itself was kind of fun. Grandpa Allen undoubtedly turned over in his grave when Nella installed the chain link fence around his yard, but the barrier clearly serves it's intended function (to retain wayward toddlers, giving their parents freedom to let them roam only loosely attended). Inquiring minds were obviously at work here. The caption for this one should obviously be a complaint about asking for a file and getting a twig to aid in breaking out of this pen... |
On the way home, I stopped (and in the process was nearly run over by a motorist apparently trying to achieve a land speed record) and captured images of land that seems to have slipped on one side. It looks to me like this ridge consists of layers that were at one time horizontal, but now one corner has sunk. I guess it was observations like this one that formed the basis for geology. Some day I may take time to study that arcane subject.
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In my corner of the world, life continues to be a struggle, right down to the creepy crawly critters that I have tried to exclude from my domicile. I had always thought that the scorpion, with his formidable over-the-back death ray, was the king of the micro-jungle. However, if this observation is typical, I may have to re-think my assumptions. I came upon this scene after the struggle had ended, but it was blatantly obvious who was the winner and who was the dinner.
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  It is a well-known fact that Symantha has lots of thick hair, and that it is also longer than that of most folk. For whatever reason (headaches, hot summer days, hours of drying time, etc.), she decided to "trim" it to shoulder length. I was selected the do the deed, but it wasn't until the sun was setting that we gave it a try. I have to admit that the finished product was not exactly even. Hopefully, she has gotten someone with a truer eye and a steadier hand to correct my imperfections. (Note the little house ape swinging in the background.) |
| Well, I guess that is about all the highlights for now. I am considering attending festivities associated with the marriage of Denise Scorse (my father's sister's daughter) this coming Friday (7-1-05) in Snowflake. (Denise attended BYU in a time frame that overlapped some of my sojourn there.) Perhaps I will encounter some of you in that neck of the woods... Alan. |
I took the kite reel to the reunion and was rewarded by numerous stares from passing motorists, including some of the friendly local constabulary, but given my propensity for strictly observing the traffic regulations, none of them became acquainted with me on a first name basis. At the reunion, the kite event was basically a bust. I tried flying in a wind that was clearly too "brisk," and as a reward I lost a kite along with about 800 yards of 75 lb test line. I spent about 2 hours trying to find the run-away toy, including hiking to the top of the butte and glassing 360 around degrees, but to no avail. Given that it was out on about 800 yards of line, and the angle to the kite was about 35 degrees above the horizon, I calculated that it has risen to a height of about 400 yards. The butte was about a mile from where I was flying the kite, and assuming a glide angle for the falling kite to be 1 to 1, it should have landed on this side of the butte. Assuming (at the extreme) a glide angle of 10 to 1, it would have landed at 4000 yards ( or about 2.25 miles). That distance is well within the area I studied from the top of the butte. Given that the kite is brightly colored, and I could clearly see road signs (about the same size as the kite) at a distance of at least 3 miles, there is no clear explanation as to how it eluded me. The earth must have opened and swallowed it. Oh well, long distance kite flying is a bit of a chore anyway...