Garbage Day

Once a week everyone in our neighborhood wheels their big black cans to the street, filled with unwanted stuff. We take it for granted that the big trucks with the electronic arms will rumble by and empty our trash. On holidays the truck is often a day late so our cans are overflowing. Our household has shrunk so sometimes we only fill one can. I'm thankful for the men who drive the trucks and perform this service because our lives would get messy without them. When we lived in Tunisia thirty years ago, this service was simpler. A man knocked on our door and offered to pick up the trash for a small fee. We agreed and he came by every week as faithfully as the trucks. I'm amazed our trash for three people including a baby fit in a small can. Today our lives are more complicated. We consume more and make more trash; yet I'm not sure this consumption means more happiness.

Eagles at Farmington Bay

Many bald eagles are resting at the Farmington Bay bird refuge. Today I went to see them with my daughter and grandson. We only have a small window of time to watch the Eagles before they migrate to Canada or Alaska. I counted 18 eagles perched in two skeleton trees which stretched bare branches to the sky. Two more eagles rested on a piece of driftwood sticking up in the bay and an eagle quartet huddled together in a marshy field. A line of SUVs stood on the road watching the eagles. Eager children, excited Moms, and Seniors pressed their faces against windows. Hardier folks poked their heads out into chill winds to get a better look. Occasionally, an eagle would treat the crowd with a soaring flight, wings spread--magnificient.

I'll mark this on my calendar for next year: watch the eagles. I hope they don't build a freeway.

Begin Again

I attended an "Onstage New York" dance competition for my granddaughter, Madelynn, who is nine. Her group was one of the last ones to perform. This competition was held in the Salt Palace next to a tatoo convention--difficult to find if one was not familiar with the Salt Palace. Madelynn danced on stage with her group to the tune of "Pack it Up." The girls wore frilly red dresses and carried little picnic baskets. They began a well reheared routine when suddenly a latecomer dashed on stage, trying to blend in, but upsetting the routine. The music stopped and the announcer asked the girls to start over. The parents clapped, showing their support as the girls marched off. Minutes later the girls danced back on, performed their routine without a hitch, and the audience cheered. The little girls may not remember their dance, but they learned a valuable life lesson: it's okay to begin again.

"I hope I'm good looking."

I have a student who is blind in my class. A few days ago we talked about self awareness and babies. A baby smiles at the cute baby in the mirror, but doesn't realize they are looking at themselves until about 15-18 months.

My young student who has a great sense of humor raised his hand. "I've never seen myself" he said. Then with a smile he added, "I hope I'm good looking."

I thought about his comment. It would be difficult to be blind, but it might also be liberating. Sometimes we are so critical of our appearance, especially teenage girls, that we can't focus on the positives in our lives-- like the gift of sight.

Slippery Slide

Last night we had a big snowstorm which dumped about 8 inches of fluffy white stuff. I peeked outside into a white out before the plows zoomed by. A Suburban was slipping and sliding down our street and when it tried to turn the corner, the driver lost total control. The big car slid into the gutter and got hopelessly stuck. What could the driver do? Call for help on a cell phone. Soon some people magically appeared in the storm and pushed it out.

Years ago when I was a new teenage driver in Idaho, I was driving home on icy roads and turned the corner too fast. The car slid off the road into the burrow pit. So I walked a half mile home and told my dad. He didn't get angry, just smiled, told me to drive slower next time and turned on the tractor. We rode the tractor to the car, hooked on a big chain and rescued my car.

What a difference 45 years makes.

Egyptian Revolution

I attended a panel discussion today about the revolution in Egypt. Three young students from Egypt spoke with pride about their quest for freedom. Their revolution was led by young middle class, educated people who spread the word on Facebook. By peaceful non-violence protests they kicked out a 30 year dictator. They chanted "don't fight back" while police sprayed them with water and tear gas and shot rubber bullets. This revolution brought new freedom to an oppressed people. Egypt is a poor country because the wealth has gone to the government. They face problems with health, education, good food and water. Remember the little girl by the pyramids?

Happy Birthday Mom

My mother is impressive. She loves life and meets each day with enthusiasm. Coming from hardy stock, she has a positive attitude and rolls with life. She can accept losses, loves holidays, notices everything, keeps a journal, works hard, doesn’t worry, and treasures her family. She’s never “fussy”, believes in God, strives for independence, and rejoices in life. Her motto: “You’re only as old as you feel" and she still feels young. i'm lucky to be her daughter and I can't wait until we can celebrate 100 years with her. Happy Birthday, Mom.

Flute Player

Today on campus I passed a young man playing a simple flute/recorder while he walked to the student center. The music was high and sweet, brightened my day, and I felt like singing. Worries seemed to vanish. Students who walked by also smiled.

I wanted to stop the young man and ask questions. When did you learn to play? Why do you play your flute on campus? Does your music bring peace to your heart?

I didn't stop because I had too many miles to go that day, but the simple melody lingered. I wish I could find the young man and say thanks for sharing his music.

Goodbye to a Great Man

I attended a funeral today for the grandfather of my son-in-law. I didn't know this man, but I was deeply impressed by his life story. He was a true example of service. He flew several dangerous bombing missions during World War II. He worked hard to support his five children. He cared for his wife many years when she was ill. He volunteered at the hospital for 20+ years and went to the temple daily for the last year of his life.

Funerals are always a time for reflection on life and what really matters. The world was made better because this man lived.

Happy Birthday, Dad

My dad would be 91 today if he were alive. He has been gone for 38 years and I still wish I could ask his advice. What would he think about our world? He would be shocked with the violence, the music, the media, the change in values. He would be sad about the drug wars in his beloved Mexico. He always wanted to serve another mission in Mexico and loved the people. He would like speaking Spanish to our new Hispanic population. The education challenges would surprise him, along with the Boy Scouts. The advances in technology would amaze him. Most of all he would love his posterity--the wonderful grandchildren and great grandchildren who still honor his name.

Tahrir Square, Cairo

I saw a picture today in the New York Times of thousands of Egyptians gathered in Tahrir Square, covering about the size of 8 football fields. Another picture showed several men praying in front of huge tanks. Around the corner and down the street from Tahrir Square is the famous Egyptian museum with priceless treasures from Egypt's past. A short time ago I was in the museum gazing at the glittering golden artifacts of King Tut. After seeing all this wealth, I walked outside to the noisy, crowded streets of Cairo: cars honking, people dodging cars,donkey carts. I didn't know that in a few weeks this memory would seem calm compared to the chaos of thousands protesting in Tahrir Square.

Girl by the Sphinx

Two weeks ago we were in Egypt. We had a peaceful experience compared to the turmoil in the country now. We hired a car and our driver took us to Cairo where we visited the pyramids and Egyptian museum. Guys with souvenirs at the pyramids swarmed around us like hungry mosquitos. I clutched my bag, refused to buy, and finally they buzzed away. A barefoot beggar girl about five years old near the sphinx was more persistent. Clutching a handful of postcards, she pleaded with large dark eyes and a few English words. I almost bought her postcards, but then I saw a bunch of raggedy children nearby and feared I would be mobbed. Ignoring her pleas, I dashed to our car and was whisked away from the poverty and dirt to our luxury cruise ship.

Now back in America, I watched the riots in Cairo and I think about the little beggar girl. Is she safe? How will this influence her future?