It's hard not to be SAD

Last night I was at a meeting at our local church house, laughing about our financial situation along with a dozen others, trying to learn from a self-professed cheapskate, when one of the attendees received a text message from his wife, telling us of the passing of our beloved leader President Hinckley. Most of the folks who read my blog are LDS so I know you are feeling similar thoughts. Even though he was old, and dearly missed his wife and is having a grand reunion with her, it would've been nice to keep him around for a few more years. It's amazing how one person could touch so many lives. He was the perfect man to lead our church into the 21st century. He could put anyone at ease. These are some things I'll miss about him: His voice--anytime he spoke he started with a chuckle and ended with a crack of emotion. His smile. His sense of humor. He sure got a lot of mileage out of that cane of his, from the knighting of Henry Eyring, to leading the choir, to waving good-bye. I'll miss his obvious love for people from all walks of life. Those who lived in Utah who aren't members of our faith have noticed that things have been kinder and more respectful under his leadership. He asked that we look at what we have in common with those of other faiths, rather than our differences. I loved that about the man. He was intelligent, and kept up with the world events. He wasn't an old fool who didn't keep in touch. I loved that he believed in the goodness of people and the world around him. I loved that he traveled all over the world to brighten the lives of others and share his testimony and optimism. I loved that he loved his wife, Marjorie--and how he encouraged her to fly. I loved that he was so open to the media and granted high-profile interviews. I loved that he wasn't afraid to bring the world to Utah for the Olympics. I love that he deserved and received the love and respect of people from all over the world and yet remained a humble man. I loved that he made me feel happy about the gospel. He's leaving some mighty big shoes for Thomas Monson to fill.

Tribute to Pikkle

Pikkle was about fourteen years old when we had to make the tough decision to put her to sleep last week. Cancer was ravaging through her body. We knew she had been suffering for a while. She'd started to bark almost non-stop. It was annoying, but what else could she do to let us know she was hurting. Pikkle was a gift for Ginger, our daughter. We'd been living in Paradise only a year. It was a hard move from little podunk Grouse Creek, population 100 to the thriving metropolis of Paradise, population 700 plus! Seriously though it was a big difference considering our kids had only 24 kids in their school K-10 and were now attending schools with hundreds of students. Pikkle helped. Ginger took here trick or treating with her while she was still a pup. Ging wore a jestor outfit and Pikkle had a matching hat and ruffly collar--purple and green. Pikkle and Ging faithfully attended 4-H obedience school. Ging worked with her, but she never got the hang of things and failed the test in the end. They were supposed to leave alone a treat until ordered to eat it, but Pikkle chomped it right down when she wasn't supposed to. She did learn to sit and she usually came when called. She was so nice though that baby chicks could enter her pen and she'd just watch. Baby kittens could share from her water dish and she would lick them. No matter where Ging traveled throughout the world, she'd come home and take Pikkle on walks. They were always friends. I have fond memories of Pikkle on hikes, checking on us, and then running ahead to be with Ginger and then coming back again. She'd do this the entire hike. Back and forth. The last few walks though, she could barely keep up. We'll miss Pikkle.