A Time to Write

Dear family and dear friends,         

When I was growing up, my mom and dad would write weekly letters. Grandma and Grandpa Gee saved the letters, and I am reading them with my mom on most days.  

   

Habits take awhile to grow into, and can be abandoned when other things crowd together. A few weeks ago, during my organ practicing time, one of my neighbors came whistling in to the chapel. He invited me to visit the 7 a.m. bishopric meeting. I recently had been released from being a teacher to the six- and seven-year-old children. 

This neighbor remembered aloud questioning years ago, “Who is Sister Starkey?” when one of his sons serving a mission received letters from me (just moved, no calling, remembering hearing a nephew talk about saving up letters for Monday to read together—“letters? Oh no!” I had sent zero letters. These young men and women, even if they did not know who the Starkeys were, apparently enjoyed receiving a letter.) I have been pondering, “What is it that will help me begin writing letters again?” 

I have been keeping a regular gratitude journal since I looked at a very special, sacred leather-bound diary of my husband’s niece (at her viewing two years ago.) I wondered if I could do that. What if I try? Now it is almost better than a habit, because if I miss, I truly believe I have lost something. There is a scripture verse that speaks of enlarging memory with writing. I am learning it is true! 

So, welcome to a new habit! (They needed someone to send a letter to neighborhood missionaries.)  Thank you for coming along! This week in Come, Follow Me, I scoured Numbers (yes, catching up—a week behind) and was instructed in the art of looking. Also, in finishing another book in another scripture, asking questions with each page, I asked myself, like Hagoth, I wonder, what I will do to develop a sense of curiosity (like so many of our brilliant, growing grandchildren) to see what I can do in my own life to enlarge borders, to accept and welcome adventure? One of the things Grandpa and I are trying, besides traversing our few familiar blocks,

 in loving our neighbors, especially the ones who saved our neighborhood wilderness park, is to hunt up new hikes. 

Kays Creek in Layton,  

Farmington Creek in Farmington,

 our own Wilderness Park, each have offered wild snapdragons, 

trees hanging from roots off ledges of hillsides, and beautiful sunset closures. 

 Another habit that I loathe to miss is connecting regularly in person or phone call or video or text with children. In a conversation with Amber, I learned one of the books she found by Brené Brown, Braving the Wilderness, is the blessing of collective experience. The example Amber shared, was the author being struck with seeing cars pulled to the side of the road, watching one trucker standing outside his truck, sobbing, and then learning that the Space Challenger had crashed. 

A collective experience this week was bringing binoculars into our cul-de-sac and joining our neighbors with their telescope to track a Blood Moon and solar eclipse.  And yesterday, following four grandchildren through a local Heritage Festival, 

mountain man exhibit, champion tomato planting, with animals up close and personal.

Upon leaving our home late last night, little Becca wondered whether Grandpa could gift her his special values book (found at our Patterson thrift shop for ten cents) about Kindness. Can you remember visiting grandparents and feeling something that you wanted to bring home? I learned about choke cherries and gooseberries and dates in whole grain hot cereal and home-made bread. Even Grandpa Gee’s interest to experiment making watermelon rind punch. (Not exactly the tastiest punch, but keep in mind--curiosity and adventure!) Today, we heard neighbors report a mission office experience in Virginia. While brother Steven directed family history activities in Logan, our neighbors clustered together to sample barbecued brisket at a local chapel gymnasium, as the hot spring days became suddenly chilly with a breeze of showers. We appreciate new neighbors,  one cheering a Colorado daughter with employment interviews just before Maria’s trip to visit with friends in Washington D.C., temple tour included. We anticipate connecting for a few moments with Pamela and Don Davies, who plan to visit this week, in wrapping the sale of their home and transitioning to Grants Pass, Oregon. One of my favorite quotes from the Old Testament, Deuteronomy 2:3 “We have compassed this mountain long enough.” Is there a mountain that you are compassing? Are the grapes huge and figs lovely (but perhaps it is easy to feel grasshopper-like?) Yes! (The story of the back yard sprinkler system. Seeking my mother’s lost sprinkler valve.

 

Positioning a new fire extinguisher.  Making space for extra canned goods to store against the season in case of supply chain issues.  [Do you have ideas in getting ready?]  

Being watched over by neighbors' cats and Cats in the Hat.)

Regardless of supply chain or grasshopper issues, our greatest treasure, hands down, is family and friends. Thank you for choosing to number yourself in our circle. Blessings, as we seek to remember this coming week what is important! 

 

 Love, Laurene and Val