Saturday, December 3, 2016

Buying a tree today

So Ken Cannon, wearing his Cubs hat, and I went tree shopping today.  As we checked out, one of the tree guys saw Ken Cannon and started shouting SOX!  SOX!  SOX!  You know.  As in the other Chicago team, i.e. the White Sox.

We laughed.  Hahahahahahaha.  And then the tree guy went "DA BEARS!"  So then Ken Cannon said, "I like the Bears," at which point the tree guy started shouting "PACKERS!  PACKERS!  PACKERS!" who, of course, are the Bears' arch rivals.

As we walked to our car I said to my husband, "That guy could be a Cannon."

Cannons all have a touch of Oppositional Defiance Disorder, which is why we all love them so.

Friday, December 2, 2016

Whenever I step outside barefoot in the winter

Okay, YES.  I do that.  To get the newspaper or take out the recycling or whatever.

Why?  Because I'm too lazy to put on my shoes.

Still.  I don't stay outside for long and for sure I don't walk across Wyoming.  Which is the point.  I have to say when it gets cold like this, I think about the early Mormons who trekked from here to there in unfriendly weather, and while I am not a pioneer-phile, my respect grows.

Indeed it does.

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Well, why not?

So, I've had this idea kicking around in my head for awhile.  And because I know how to write novels for young readers (sort of), I keep trying to turn it into a novel for young readers.  But I find that the adults interest me in the story as much as the kid does and lo it did occur to me that maybe I have an idea for an adult novel.

But there's this voice going, "YOU CAN'T WRITE A BOOK FOR GROWNUPS, BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT A GROWNUP."

And then I went, "Wait.  I'm old.  I'M OLD.  I'm a grownup now."

Which means I can do anything I damn well please.

Friday, November 25, 2016

I'm off to see the Coach this morning.

He and TRQ didn't come up for Thanksgiving yesterday because he isn't doing well, so I'm headed to Provo right now to see them.  They are both ever present on my mind these days.

Last Sunday in the NYT I read an election post-mortem piece that claimed the reason HRC and the Democrats lost is that Left has given in to "identity politics"--unintentionally emphasizing the things that make us different, that separate us, as opposed to the things that we as Americans have in common.

I have no idea if this is true or not, but it did make me think about the Coach and how he dealt with people.  You could almost watch his special antennae come out and feel their way around an initial conversation, searching for the things he had in common with a single mother of color and the son he was recruiting.  And when he found them, voila!  That's what they talked about.

He did this with everybody and in retrospect, I would say it's one of the big reasons he had such a singular career.  That insight was the motivation behind this piece in the Trib.

Meanwhile, I'm wishing you a happy Thanksgiving weekend.  Thanks for stopping by and reading.

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Working on Thanksgiving

This morning while I was shopping for Thanksgiving at the Smith's downtown, I struck up a conversation with an employee, who suddenly launched about how wrong it is for people to shop on Thanksgiving.  She's senior enough herself that she isn't working on Thanksgiving, but she thinks it's better for folks to stay home and enjoy their people and their meal and give everybody a break.

And all I could do was stand there and say "d'accord."  Which was weird.  Because I usually don't speak French when I'm shopping for Thanksgiving at Smith's.


Sunday, November 20, 2016

Two grandfathers

The other day when I was driving home from Provo, I stopped at a fruit stand on 8th North in Orem.  There were mostly apples for sale, so I asked the man there which variety was his favorite.  He said Fuji.  So I bought a basket of Fuji apples and he threw in a few extra for good measure.  Meanwhile, Mt. Timpanogos loomed blue behind us both, along with the small patch of orchard that hasn't been plowed under for new homes.  This man was my paternal grandfather two generations ago.

Later that day I took our car into Bobby's Car Clinic on Third Ave and immediately felt at home when I inhaled the familiar scent of oil on concrete.  Bobby was my maternal grandfather two generations ago.

It was one of those days where time, in the words of Joseph Smith, became one eternal round.

Saturday, November 19, 2016

More TRQ

Still reading TRQ's memoirs and enjoying them so much.  I just read a passage about how she discouraged she and the Coach were after trying for years to get pregnant without success.  And then things changed.  She lists the reasons why she was (at last!) expecting a child, which are tender and touching.

I like the last reason the best, though:  "Of course the natural event also took place."

As the years have passed, I've grown to cherish my mother's vibrancy and unique perspective so much.  Love her.