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I can't believe it has been so long posting a letter. I just don't seem to have pictures when I have time, or time when I have pictures. I'm not going to try to be chronological, but just offer an eclectic collection of images

In the last part of June, I was called as the ward clerk. That is a relatively obscure position that provides support for many ward functions, particularly those of the bishopric. Max Parisott (who held that position for the last eight years) told me he spent about three hours per week, exclusive of Sunday meetings. I attend the Bishopric meetings that start at 0615 in the morning. During the summer, leaving home at 0545 isn't too difficult, but in the winter it might be a different story. David Watson is my assistant, charged with finances. Since I don't do a particularly good job of remembering names, faces, and addresses, I am considering asking for another assistant, this one in charge of the membership records.

Most of the duties are accomplished using the MLS program on the computer at the church. I worked my way through the tutorials on the church website, but still have much to learn. The position of ward clerk is considered to be adjuvant to the bishopric. I suppose I could have argued (and probably been successful), but when the bishopric sang a special musical number, they included me in their number. It was almost fun, now that I am old enough to have lost my fear of being thought crazy.

I finally finished installation of Barbara's AC unit. It was a tremendous amount of work and, without Barbara providing the proper motivation, I would have never undertaken that project. The unit became partially operational (the heating system is not hooked up, and a controller board needs to be replaced [$250 to $300]) on July 22, and functioned well (it cooled the house quite nicely) until August 13, when it ceased functioning. As you might guess, Barbara was a bit upset over that event. The fan blows air through the house, and responds to the thermostat on the wall, but the air supplied is not cool. That sounds like either the unit has developed a leak and lost its Freon, or the compressor is no longer functional. In either case, providing a remedy to the problem lies outside the scope of my abilities. I have yet to call service personnel (I lost the number...).

I talked in church the other day. My assigned subject was "church history" but since I have been studying the New Testament, I chose to discuss the history of The Church of Jesus Christ during the first fifty years following the resurrection. I prepared about three times the amount of material I could present, but it went fairly well. The major problem the early apostles had to face was the question of whether being a Christian also meant being a Jew (and following the Mosaic Law). They (the church leadership) finally decided that the two were not linked, but the Jewish Christians were reluctant give up their traditions and this caused many problems. Being the "Apostle to the Gentiles" Paul bore the brunt of this conflict, and most of his letters concern themselves with two subjects. The first is his ongoing attempts to get Jews and Gentiles members of the church to live in harmony (not unlike a parent whose mantra is, "will you kids please get along") and the second is the superiority of Faith in Christ and his Grace over reliance on the Law of Moses with its "dead works."

These conflicts are all recorded, but until recently I had not seen them (probably because they are obscured by the archaic English of King James translation). For the talk I used some notes (basically the parts I read from the Bible), but most of it was "free oratory." I am considering writing it up as an essay. I doubt I could get anyone to read it, but it still sounds like a "fun" project. I have made the statement that if you attend all your church meetings and listen to what is said, you will not hear any new doctrine after the first three years. This talk covered subject matter and reached conclusion I had not previously heard, and that is difficult to do (particularly if you confine yourself to accepted doctrine). I never thought I would say this of a sermon, but I enjoyed preparing it and (to a lesser extent) giving it.

I am making progress in my quest to put the Woodruff Range Cookbook on grandmasweb. I particularly like that book because it contains recipes used by my Grandmother, Aunts, etc. It may not be obvious to you, but Grandma taught Mom to cook, and since I grew up on Mom's cooking, the dishes resulting from the implementation of those recipes are typical of what I consider "real food." Now I didn't care for everything that my mother cooked, nor do I like everything contained in this volume, but to a large extent, it reflects my culinary heritage. I had settled on a format that has three columns. Two narrow ones contain indexes, one hyper-linked to the main sections (beverages, casseroles, etc.) and the other hyper-linked to the various authors of the dishes contained in the section currently being displayed.

At this point, I have completed the HTML architecture. There are sixteen sections, and each requires three HTML documents to make it function. That, plus a couple of overviews, brings the total to more than 65 HTML documents. With these finally in place, I posted the "work in progress" on my website. Much to my chagrin, it didn't work! It works with safari on my computer, but not after being uploaded. I was so frustrated I simple dropped the project. I have since visited Aunt Joan and used her scanner to convert the remainder of the cookbook to digital format, so shortly I will again re-undertake the HTML design.

Andrea et al (Aaron her husband, Athen, their son, and Emily, his daughter) came to visit. They are headed for a four year hitch in Germany starting sometime in November. I think Barbara enjoyed their visit, and (if I could somehow ignore the fact that they brought two cats) I enjoyed it too. I am really unhappy with the addition of two more long-haired fur balls to this household. Barbara assured me that it was only temporary, "Until she could find a home for them." One of them is psychotic (she insists that you pet her, then hisses, swats you (with her de-clawed paws), and bites. Given that loving nature, I doubt an acceptable home will be forthcoming...

Barbara has accepted an invitation from Jon et al for an extended visit. Jon has gone to Germany for some training (or to give training, or something related [I was unable to grasp the details]) and will be gone for about six weeks. Lindsay is just starting a new job (in sales with variable hours) and they requested that Barbara help with baby-sitting. I hope this assistance will be beneficial. I have some misgivings about Barbara's stamina and ability to last that long, she left September 5 and has a return trip booked October 15. I hope it works out ok. I have not spoken with her since she left (Lindsay, I need you phone number) but sources tell me she missed her flight... I hope she got there all right...

This has been an unusually wet year. The monsoons started in June, and are still going strong. Of course the grass and weeds are thriving in my yard, adding one task to my already extensive "to do" list. Usually, the monsoon season consists of clear sunny mornings followed by clouds building in the afternoons, showers, and then clearing again before dark. This year there have been several days when I awoke to the sound of rainfall, that then lasted most of the day. The only person I know who isn't impressed with this years' rain is Jim Bingham. Being a rancher, he never gets enough wetness (it all comes at once, then runs off). It is not well known, but on the ark with Noah was a great grandfather of Jim's. After the flood had receded, that old cowboy ambled down the gangplank, looked around, scratched the dirt with the toe of his boot, and remarked, "Well, that was a nice little shower. If we get three or four more like it this winter, we have half a chance of having a decent spring..."

In late August, Barbara took a trip to the Emergency Room. Sunday afternoon she started hurting (her kidneys and knees), and to make a long story short, about 5 p.m. I called 911 and requested an ambulance. After assessing the situation, they transported Barbara to the emergency room at the VA hospital. I followed in my car, and when I arrived, most of the crisis seemed to have passed. Several tests were run on her, and all (blood chemistries and vital signs) came back normal, so they released her, with the admonition that she visit with her primary care provider. The next day, using sick leave, I took her to see a couple of doctors and again all the tests they ran were normal. It was all very confusing. The only thing clear, was that the ride in the ambulance was billed to medicare at $1200. I remains to be seen how much they will cover.

While Barbara was visiting her doctor at the VA, I spent a couple of hours with Sabrina. Her daughter (Cub) is a feisty little thing. Sabrina was baby-sitting a one-year-old, and Cub was intensely focused on the "MINE!" aspect of the encounter. She had more toys than she could carry, and a burning desire to protect them all from the intruder and that, coupled with the intense need for a nap, was frustrating for her and quite funny for her grandfather. It didn't take the visiting child long to figure out the game, and start doing the things would result in Cub being chastised. I enjoy watching children in situations where I can see their minds work. The ironic thing is after children become adults, they experience the thoughts and emotions, but they have acquired the ability to partially mask them.

I had another appointment with the quack I am using for a neurologist, and he didn't have much to say that was of interest. The only reason I see him is to get my prescription renewed, and that medication doesn't seem to be doing anything anyway. But, having few other choices, I go through the motions. Ah, the games we play. My physical abilities continue to deteriorate, though at a fairly slow rate. The latest frailty I have noticed is my balance, particularly when I first get up in the dark. The neurologist suggested that there are sensors in the joints, particularly the feet, ankles and knees that report their position and the force they are experiencing. I my case, my brain is loosing its ability to process those signals. When it is light, I use my vision to compensate, but in the Lava Tubes, it was almost scary. As long as I could keep my hand on a rock or side of the wall, I was ok. I didn't need the hand to steady me, but rather as a reporting system giving balance stabilizing input. Barbara was using a rechargeable flashlight, and the battery gave out after about 15 minutes. We had a second battery, and used it to get out of the cave, so we didn't go in very far.

Speaking of the Lava Tubes, that camp-out was quite an event. As I learned from being a Scoutmaster, any camp-out that does not include a fatality was a good one, so this trip qualifies as a good one. It was actually quite enjoyable. Trekking through the Lava Tubes was not an appropriate activity for small children, particularly ones who have totally mastered the art of walking (ok, occasionally some of my ideas are really bad...). It was dark, there were lots of large rock, some of which were loose, and it was cold (part of the cave stays 32 degrees F year round). Also, there were probably 250 people in the tubes on that day (Labor Day), so there wasn't much solitude. It rained on us about three times each day but the showers were of short duration. We really didn't do much except eat and visit. One of the more "interesting" foods we had was ice cream. Sabrina was in charge of this dessert, and was quite creative. She mixed a half-cup with a half-cup of cream, 1 Tablespoon of sugar and 1 teaspoon of vanilla, then placed the mixture in a small zip-lock bag. She then placed rock salt and ice in a gallon sized zip-lock bag, along with the smaller bag containing the ice cream ingredients. We then tossed the bag back and forth for about ten minutes, and vola! Ice cream! I frankly didn't think it would work when she described the process, but work it did, and fairly rapidly at that. It seemed a bit wasteful of the ice and salt (all-be-it they could have been used multiple times had the demand been larger), but the novelty factor was large, and I was impressed.

Another item of note was that Wyatt's children left the lights on in his vehicle, resulting in a dead battery. I helped him jump start it, but had the decency to look away and pretend not to notice while he cried because his big Ford SUV had to depend on my Ghetto-mobile to keep it running...

My bicycle trip came and went (and didn't last too long this time). Towards the end of day two (of what was to have been a four day ride) the re-railer on my bicycle became entangled with a bag (actually a sock) holding the batteries for our inter-bicycle communication system.

This produced a terminal mis-alignment of the de-railer, effectively ending this year's adventure. I had not trained with the zeal of last trips, and had Nathen ride some sections for me (while I wrote a letter to AJ). Based on this experience, I think the perfect cross-country bicycle trip would include three people, two bicycles, and a support vehicle. All the people would rotate through cycling and driving. That would allow the travel while minimizing the accompanying fatigue. As evident in this image, and is common on most of my trips, the rain was never too far behind.

I talked to Dave Elliott the night before we left and he had some surprising news. That day his wife Betty Ann, lost her job as a midwife, along with her six-figure income with absolutely no warning. If I were in that situation, I would have bowed out of the bicycle trip, but Dave wouldn't hear of it. I suspect Betty Ann will not have a difficult time obtaining employment (and the two month severance pay will provide an interim cushion), but it might mean another move for them. Contrary to the way it might seem at the time, nothing in life is permanent. Nathen managed to get this bicycle up to 40 mph, even though the rear tire was not bolted in place. The drive chain was all that was keeping the wheel on the bicycle. Not too bad for a first time rider.

On the trip home, we made a detour to take in the view from Muley Point. This is a piece of real estate that over looks Monument Valley, the Valley of the Gods, and the San Juan River Canyon.

It is located just north of the highway that connects Mexican Water and Mexican Hat (the latter taking it's name from this unusual formation [which I would not have believed had I not seen it myself]).

The road up to the point is fairly well maintained, but definitely not for faint hearted drivers accustomed to the flatlands of the midwest.

This section of road is similar to what I remember Salt River Canyon being like when we traversed it on the way to Grandmas house in the 1950's. (According to my mother [whose memory was demonstrably fallible] this route often caused carsickness and I puked on every curve [but that's not the way I remember it].)

I spent most of my live in Arizona, and had never heard of this place. The view from the point was impressive. I suspect that if the Grand Canyon, with it's world wide fame, were not located so close, this canyon would be a world class attraction. As it is, few people know of it and fewer still visit.

I had Nathen give me a tour of the paper mill in the Snowflake/Taylor area where he works. It is dirty, noisy, both hot and cold, and filled with leaking pumps, but it churns out news print paper at an unbelievable rate. I was quite impressed. I have learned that AJ will be arriving in Tucson on Wednesday, 5 November at 3:43 p.m. If you would like to be there you are certainly welcome, but your attendance is not mandatory. He has an appointment to see the Stake President at 6:30 (at which time he will be officially released as a missionary). I'm not sure if I am looking forward to that day with joy and rejoicing, or fear and trepidation, but in either case it is a milestone. Some of you may consider this next paragraph as a warning. The world has more symmetry than you might expect, and for me, some of it came home to roost. As a young man (and even to when I was not so young [and occasionally even now, if the truth be known]), I desired to be self-employed. My Grandfather Allen had that same mental malfunction, and spent inordinate amounts of money in his several attempts. My mother, who witnessed (and suffered from) Grandpas lack of success, was vehemently opposed to "such nonsense," and worried vigorously when I undertook my first unsuccessful attempt (thankfully, for her sake, she didn't witness my second). Now the shoe appears to be on the other foot. Sabrina and Braxton are doing the arithmetic in preparation to opening a bakery in the Snowflake/Taylor/Show Low area. Given that the major employer in that zip code (the paper mill) has just announced job cuts amounting to 28% of its workforce, now is not the time to launch a new business that depends heavily on disposable income. I can see that very clearly, but they "just don't get it," (just like I didn't get it in my attempts) so I am left to the role I forced on my mother, and I get to worry. If you think about some of your craziness, then try to imagine what your children have in store for you, the celibate life may suddenly become more appealing...

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