Snack Journaling

Several different journals serve me well.  Here’s a new one, a rare exception to, “This blog is not about food.”

Sugar Snap Peas, a no-spill snack for computer work to publish my book.

Cheerios — a handful like my wife Kay often had for school lunch while working in her classroom.

Fun animal crackers and healthy Veggie Straws.

Dove dark chocolates with a message.  Sweet!

A spoonful of peanut butter, plus yogurt with sliced banana after 6/25/25 tooth extraction.

Farr’s ice cream in this hot Utah summer

and cream soda float, discovered this week.

Pure cherry juice like Sister Cannon chose at Trader Joe’s in Michigan 2018.

What do you write in your journals?

personal history simplified

To start writing your history, here’s an option: keep it simple.  Just start writing randomly.  For example, I took a few minutes of siesta and wrote this imperfectly on my phone Notes to be edited later … when I feel like it.

Once I was a child.  I was born of goodly, loving parents with an older sister to help raise me.  Mother and Dad taught me and kindly disciplined me.  I was probably shy and selfish, so at age 3 my first word was “cookie”, because that’s what I wanted most.  My best memories of kindergarten in the basement of Lowell School are of nap time and playing store.  I started reading in first grade with Miss Nash, as I recall my teacher’s name.

I enjoyed my own neat bedroom on Second Avenue near downtown Salt Lake City, close enough to hear the trains on summer nights.  I don’t know which came first: my love of trains, or Grandfather Cannon taking me to the train station.  Real trains and model railroads became a love of my life.  Good music and books inspired me forever.

After my mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Argentina North, true love surpassed trains when I started dating my younger neighbor and U of U classmate, the charming Kay Hinckley.  Music Appreciation 101 was key.  So, the rest is history … gratefully with no end.

In 2024, putting off my own personal history, I published my wife’s biography, the extraordinary history of Kay Cannon.  I have a feeling she is pleased, as members of our eternal family are all amazed.

I like this scripture: (Jacob 6:12) “O be wise; what can I say more?”

Remembering Dad

A man of miracles is my dad, blessed throughout his life by Heavenly Father.  Born of goodly parents with amazing heritage, he honored them and faithfully passed his heritage to us six children and our posterity … with love.

I remember visiting my dad in his upstairs office, a humble “executive suite” at 43 West Broadway.

He provided a spacious home he remodeled, with a huge backyard in the perfect 2nd-Avenue neighborhood.  He let me, his oldest son at about age 7, help him build an addition for the growing family.  Dad let me salvage materials and do my own thing for a crude 3-story hut (another story by itself).

My father always loved animals.  He took me on early-morning horseback rides at the ranch, a “30-acre weed patch” he acquired, south of SLC airport.  Of course, I also enjoyed rafting on the canal.  Years later as a young teen, I did heavy labor there for the family company. 

A heavenly story: inspired move to Hinckleys’ ward, where he served as bishop for my future wife.  By lifelong example, Father & Mother taught us to serve God and mankind.

Remembering Dad, I’ve only just begun …