Trail Mix

“Happy trails” have provided me with indelible memories throughout my life.  As a Boy Scout I was blessed to be led by two uncles (Cannon Family) who took our troops on the most amazing adventures, including hiking and camping in Zion Narrows, Grand Canyon, Arches, and High Uintas Wilderness.  My two years in Argentina had a good share of preparation-day trail experience.  Cristo Redentor statue at top of the Andes was the highest.

Marriage into Kay’s Hinckley Family engaged me in a wonderful mix of trails in my adult life, with and without our five children.  Visiting beloved British Columbia in a group of three couples ... unforgettable!  And of course, my four years as Scoutmaster with our sons involved precious experiences on the Scouting trail (and sometimes accidentally off the trail ... like our first hike up Mt  Olympus).

As empty nesters, we two thoroughly enjoyed visits to our out-of-state and Utah families, where we explored trails with lively grandchildren.  Trails on the Oregon Coast totally captivated us as a couple traveling alone ... in love.  Kay & I continue following the trail of life, together in eternal ways, being blessed with a marvelous mix of memories to be shared with posterity.  We’ve only just begun to write the stories.

 

Brain Fog Going Forward

This one is for Ned ... just for the record of moving from Ogden to Bountiful this month.  How am I doing?  Progressing, despite losing things in my new smaller studio apartment, travel kit, and car.  I like to think my angels are helping me find and place things in proper order ... and overcome normal brain fog ... going forward.

Although my dear wife Kay is way ahead of me in regards to planning, keeping track of things, and finishing projects, she is nevertheless with me, cheering me on, going forward as my eternal companion ... with love.

I recently learned about “brain fog grief” commonly experienced after the death of a loved one.  It helps me understand how moving one’s home may compound the problem (in addition to pandemic, taxes, and normal aging).  My “entire cognitive capacity” (as Refuge In Grief described it) may come back to a “recognizable form” after my brain adjusts to a changed world.  It takes some people several years to recover from the trauma of a stressful situation.

Going forward, I pray, ponder, pace myself, use iPhone Notes & Calendar (and my angels) as memory prompts, work, rest, and enjoy the ride with good music.  And as my watch just reminded me, “Even a minute of breathing can help you concentrate.”  There’s a thought.  Thanks ... for the memories.

Home for Easter

Sunday was heavenly in every respect.  On this Easter, we were blessed with talks heard worldwide about Jesus Christ, who conquered death so all who are born will be resurrected to gain everlasting life.  Because of Him who lives and loves us without end, my wife Kay & I can reunite with our family at Home ... together forever.  

My angel companion Kay & I stand firm in our testimony of and gratitude for Heavenly Father’s plan of happiness.  It eternally is about true love.

Music to My Ears

When our 3-year-old granddaughter said, “I love you, Grandpa,” it was music to my ears — an idiom meaning “something that someone is very happy to hear. [For example:] Her words were music to my ears.”

— Merriam-Webster.com

Friday at 4am a train horn reminded me of my fascination with trains, especially the sound in the middle of the night (since I was a young boy with my bedroom window open on summer nights).  That is also music to my ears.

On the other hand (another idiom), piano concertos by Rachmaninoff are literally music to my ears.  And Beethoven’s 5th Symphony I heard this afternoon (performed by the London S O) is just as powerful as it was in our Music Appreciation class when Kay & I studied it together before marriage.  Such music to our ears helped launch a series of unforgettable dates.  My sweetheart & I have “made beautiful music together” ever since then.

Now with all of our children and grandchildren, God’s promise that “families can be together forever” truly is heavenly music to our ears.

Grandmother Cannon's grand upright piano

Rote Learning Experience

An old phrase came to mind the other day for no apparent reason, so I searched “learning by rote”.  (It worked, even if I got the phrase wrong.)

“Rote learning is a memorization technique based on repetition. The idea is that one will be able to quickly recall the meaning of the material the more one repeats it. Some of the alternatives to rote learning include meaningful learning, associative learning, and active learning.”  — Wikipedia

“Examples of rote learning include memorizing the alphabet, numbers, and multiplication tables.” — oxfordlearning.com  3/23/2017

It differs from meaningful learning in that “rote learning results from little or no relevant knowledge [and from] no emotional commitment to relate new with existing ...”  — quora.com

My experience: I started talking at age 3 by using the word “cookie” to get what I wanted every day (according to Mother).  It probably took a lot of repetition on my part to learn that one.  I was committed to satisfying a craving, and it worked.  Having no recollection of learning the alphabet and numbers (probably in kindergarten at Lowell Elementary), the next experience I recall was in first grade, learning to read with Dick and Jane.  I think it was fourth grade when I used the tried-and-true, flash-card system to memorize multiplication tables.  It worked!  That’s when I fell in love with math for a lifetime.  As you can see, rote learning is meaningful to me.

Ducks in a Row

This morning I woke and saw a meme (“humorous image spread rapidly by Internet users”) on my phone.  Not unusual these days.  However, a reference to the idiom “ducks in a row” made me chuckle, which was most unusual following a scary dream.  A kind, older neighbor texted it in the middle of the night, knowing I welcome text messages anytime and rarely visit Facebook.  (She didn’t know I was looking for an idea to post here.)

“My ducks are absolutely not in a row. At this point, I have no idea where my ducks even are.”

A little personal history comes to mind ... I trust ... sometime.  Meanwhile, I find a varied history of the idiom by Tricia Reynolds, suggesting the most natural origin is an image of a mother duck leading her ducklings in a row behind her — organized and productive.  That’s what I aspire to be (not a mother duck, of course).

Remodeling or Renovation

It has been happening here for over two months, causing great excitement among my Colonial Court neighbors.  For example, a young friend from Alabama already upgraded to a totally remodeled, larger apartment with an enviable view of the Ogden Utah Temple and Wasatch Mountains.  She is now blessed with her own laundry room; (no more need for quarters).

Having heard this complete renovation will take two years, several other friends plan to move temporarily and return home to the same unit after a few weeks of remodeling.  Some are relieved with the option before May to renew their lease and stay another year.  When asked, I tell everyone, “I look at all my options; we shall see.”  (Some neighbors, encouraging me to upgrade to a one-bedroom “among the living” in the main building, are eager to know my plan.)  However, the main question in my mind is ... do we call it remodeling or renovation?  I will decide that next May, not next year.  Along with food, shots, and health, it’s a hot topic now.

Three months ago, admitting Cannon Beach on the Oregon Coast is too far away, my first suggestion was Elwood, a small town between Tremonton and Crystal Hot Springs, Honeyville, Utah.  That could be a relief from the amazing noise competition on Ogden’s main drag, Washington Boulevard.  (Entertaining to watch up close.  Annoying to hear in bed after midnight.)

Nevertheless, I will always love Ogden for its character and diversity.  My sweetheart Kay & I treasure so many memories of life here, I can’t say enough good about this city and its people.  We love you!

view from Ogden Utah Temple grounds