Eternal Rest

In Hurricane, Utah, presented without further comment:

These Are My People

My forebears figured in our recent trip to Southern Utah and Yellowstone.

On our way up to Salt Lake from Zion National Park (quite beautiful and the subject of a subsequent post), we took the back way that included Parowan, Utah.  My great-grandma Dahlstrom, nee Marybelle Wardell, was born there.  I wanted to swing by the city cemetery to find any of my ancestors' gravestones.

I found John Wardell's headstone first, but Alexander Orton and his wife, Jane Holmes, took some doing.  Here they are:

 I don't know why his wife that I descended from wasn't buried next to him.  His other wife has a headstone to the right of him.  I need to find out if I have any biographies from that family in my files.

 I like that it says at the bottom:  A tender mother and a faithful friend.  What a lovely way to be remembered.

Rowdy was impressed that they had this plaque affixed to their headstones. They were in the Third Handcart Company, dragging their possessions across the plains in a small cart.  No horses, no oxen, no nice wagon, just a handcart. Yup. That's my people.  Faith in every footstep!

One night in Jackson Hole, we were eating at a pizzeria.  We had spent the entire day in Yellowstone and had not much but peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for nourishment, so we were very hungry.  Rowdy ordered an 18" pizza.  We were seated next to a party of elderly Europeans, and as people of that demographic are wont to do, they STARED at us and our pizza.  I realized that I could play it one of two ways, either be irritated and offended that they were obviously thinking that we were piggy Americans, or smile and make conversation.  So, I chose option two and started talking to the little old man sitting next to me.

It turns out that they were from Denmark.  Aha!  My great-grandma was Danish!  Huzzah!  Thanks, Grandma Chaffee!  That made big points right there.  He and his wife and several others were on a three-week trip across North America, starting at San Francisco and ending in NYC.  He said, "I wanted to see how two young people like yourselves could eat all of that food", but I said, "No, that would be unwise.  We are going to take most of it home and eat it tomorrow."  He was very impressed that we would be so young and fit because, as he said to me, "Isn't it true that many Americans are fat?"  We chatted for a few more minutes, until they had to leave and catch their bus to continue their trip.  He gave me a handshake, hug and kiss on the cheek and Rowdy a handshake and hearty clap on the back of the neck.  It was fun to turn things around and make friends.  I hope that they have a great trip across the country.

Science Experiment

I've always wondered about the statement in the Word of Wisdom (Doctrine and Covenants section 89, for the uninitiated) that says that tobacco is for healing bruises.  An athletic training class I had as an undergrad included a recipe and some dish on the BYU football players.

This last week at the Texas Tornado Bootcamp (many more pictures and stories to come), I dumped the bike two or three times and had a pretty good bruise on my thigh.  Since we were in Texas, and chaw/snus/dip was in abundance, I had the opportunity to put tobacco to its heaven-approved purpose.

Step 1:  Bum some Skoal off of someone.  This actually had a nice, peach smell.

Step 2:  Place the tobacco on the bruise.

Step 3:  Cover with gauze.

Step 4:  Wrap loosely with an ace bandage.

Before and after:

The only difference is the lighting.  Foo.  The moral of the story is not to use processed tobacco.  A plain, old tobacco leaf might have worked.  Or, I could have lightly simmered the leaves to get the juices to leak out a little more.

Get Used to Disappointment

Today's disappointments:

• I drove over to Mission Bay Aquatic Center to paddleboard on my afternoon off.  It is lovely here today.  However, MBAC's rental desk is not open on Tuesdays and Wednesdays in the "winter".  
• According to tracking information, two things I ordered for our upcoming New Beginnings (tomorrow!) must have arrived while we were in Las Vegas (a gross place).  We haven't seen them, and I hope that our neighbors picked them up and forgot to bring them over to us.  Inquiries have been made.

Targets of Steel

I went to my first shooting competition yesterday.  It was a "steel match", meaning that it is an indoor match where you just shoot at stationary steel targets with a pistol.  Definitely more my speed right now compared to the IDPA or other matches that have scenarios where you have to run or shoot around things, sometimes things that are moving back and forth.

We only shot two of the three rounds.  Corrected for that, I was 24th out of 33 people, and the leader of the women who competed.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited about that.

Change Is a Comin'

I think that I'm perimenopausal.  Yuck.  It's not like I have actually used my reproductive equipment ever or feel sentimental about menstruation, but I do not relish the many years ahead of the symptoms of menopause.

Right now, it seems that low back pain, headache, fatigue, bloating, vague pelvic cramps and intermittent crankiness (more than usual) are the symptoms.

Anyone else of my cohort going through this?  How are you handling your symptoms?

Bedrest Care Package

Pinterest really doesn't have much in the way of DIY care packages for pregnant women on bedrest.  Here's what I came up with for the one I made yesterday:

Bubbles to have something to play with when her little daughter visits.

Good lip balm.

A manicure set.

Treats in sunshiny colors, like gum, lemon drops and Goldfish.

Resistance bands to stretch and get a little exercise with.

Good body lotion.

Dry shampoo.


And a couple of other little things, like pony tail holders and hairbands and a notepad.