I have had a medical adventure the last couple of weeks the likes of which is unique to my experience (and likely unique to anyone who would be reading this). Who was the creative genius that woke up one morning and said, "I know, when the retina of the eye detaches, we'll just insert a bubble of gas through a needle. The bubble will push the retina back into place and all will be hunky-dory!"? You must admit it's peculiar.
Which makes one consider some other bizarre procedures, such as burning off warts with liquid nitrogen, or inserting plastic straws into the neck to help out the heart. We live in an amazing world.
Perhaps you are aware of medical oddities you could list...

Whitney's Recital

Slipping Backwards

We forget what we left behind when it isn't revisited somehow. I'm talking about having returned to Wyoming to visit Tim and Family. We went into Albertsons in Rock Springs to buy some mushrooms and a pineapple for the BBQ. It was like moving back in time. The atmosphere was different--even from other Albertsons. The people are different. There were more tank tops, facial hair and tatoos. They spoke a different language. The parking lot held a higher percentage of trucks. The weather was even different. The wind blew constantly, of course. I got cold in the evening, earlier than usual. The culture was different.

Do I regret living there? Nope. It was a great place to raise kids. They had to determine who they are and what they believed early on. Do I miss it? I miss 2 things: 1. The people (the courage to be good, to be refined when it's not popular is inspiring). and 2. The High Desert where I used to walk with the dogs and met wild things like foxes and pronghorn. Would I ever go back permanently? Nope. I love Springville seasons, mountains and BYU cultural stuff. I love the Arts activity. Interesting to ponder, though.

Is That Funny?

I've been pondering on laughter. Coming to conclusions: It's curious what kinds of things strike us as funny. Some of that comes from our childhood "culture." Some things are funny to one person that leave another unmoved, depending on how one identifies with the situation. For example, the parents of a retarded child don't find "little moron" jokes very funny. Pollock jokes offend those from Poland. One can compensate for those predispositions, though. Fraternizing with others will eventually lead us to see with their eyes and justify that perspective, even if at first, we don't agree with their points of view. For right or wrong, we move on the scale of appropriate humor through the saturation-effect.

So, by extension, our spiritual backgrounds predispose us to accept or reject certain kinds of humor. However, if we immerse ourselves long enough, we can adjust our response. Which is why we're taught to avoid light mindedness. Makes you think. If you laugh at unholy humor, especially if you seek it out, you're denying your spiritual heritage. And breaking certain covenants. So, that's what I've been thinking about. Thanks for "listening."

Critter in the Kitchen

A woman in Florida heard suggestive noises in the night and upon investigation, discovered an 8-ft. alligator having a midnight snack in her kitchen. Well, it gives one pause. When I hear bumps in the night, I can assume a critter in my kitchen, too. But it is likely to be dog Downey. Suppose the gator had met up with a dog or cat in the kitchen...perhaps the snack would have been fresh meat. The noises would have been less "suggestive" and more "for sure."

What prompts an alligator to check out a lady's kitchen? Maybe he'd never had a grandma of his own (she was 69), and granny's are known to provide cookies. Maybe she'd just mopped the floor and the temptation to leave swampy footprints was just too delicious. Maybe he was looking for a prize behind door number 3. Who knows? I am just thankful that around here the wild critters likely to invade kitchens are not as toothsome. Of course, I'm thinking of deer and raccoons. It could be just as exciting, I suppose, to contemplate a cougar or try to skedaddle a skunk...

Building Windmills

Wind happens when cool air meets warm air such as morning sun-warmed stuff confronting nighttime cold. If this is at a topographical spot like a canyon, it funnels the wind into the valley. Our street is in a direct line from Hobble Creek Canyon and indirect line from Spanish Fork Canyon. Hence, we get wind at the transitional times of the day.

Think of this metaphor: when opposites collide, it creates something, like wind. It can be used for good, like in those giant windmills that generate electricity, etc.; but usually just messes things up. For example, in marriage, two people come together. Although the relationship is generally benign, they may occasionally disagree. It creates "wind." One hears of slammed doors, stressed blood pressures and similar responses. This powerful energy force can wreck havoc in the home. It disturbs everything and everyone in it. But, it can be channeled. Suppose one were to recognize and identify the common "times of day" when opposing opinions are likely to collide. Like placing a windmill in the natural topographical spot, a couple can predict and prepare to use the energy for good. I know, for example, that each evening, my husband will come home with his arms full of school stuff and need a place to dump it. He wants to read the mail. In spite of years of negotiations, he will likely dump onto the kitchen counter and gather the mail there, too. Conflict arises since I prefer to keep the counters clutter-free and sterile. He knows this, and even respects my feelings. But he can't seem to change the "climatic" pattern that controls this behavior: WIND! So, we have come to this. I take the "energies" that arise from watching the daily observance of his choice to dump on the counter, and leave the room. I do something elsewhere. He enjoys his mail, prepares his own light supper, while sorting through everything. He'll redistribute it to his desk, to the trash, etc. Then he cleans the counter. We acknowledge the conflict, can't make it go away, or please both parties. so we choose to use the "energy" in a positive way.

Here's hoping you, too, can build windmills.

Bon Voyage!

I get a kick out of my husband as he anticipates a trip. It's not enough to just plan a destination and a tentative agenda. Steve researches possible activities, alternative hotels, local histories, culture (including languages if applicable) and restaurants. It adds a significant amount of pleasure to the journey. Besides being able to have a perfect experience on site, his planning becomes an extension of the fun. Looking forward to the trip this way makes the phrase "enjoy the journey" take on remarkable additional meanings. Depending on the trip, and the purpose for it, Steve may spend more time and energy in the preparation than in the actual experience. In effect, his "trip" is longer, his "get-away" begins before he goes, and his "pleasure" is deepened by the enrichment of understanding that he acquires.

Think about this as an allegory to life's journey. I suppose we really looked forward to it. We must have researched it, under the tutelage of experts. We really ought to enjoy it more, and whine less, don't you think? And what about our anticipation of the next journey? Particularly, we could be learning the language and culture, planning accommodations, etc. So, Bon Voyage!