And That is My Report

To Utah we went.
To a wedding to be more precise.
It was the first time the entire family had been together in four years.
Not the short kind either.
Manti was wonderful.
And wonderfully cold and windy.
The reception was smashing.
I watched the chillins.
My oldest brother’s brood popped in.
Sunday was a triple treat.
One baby blessing.
One missionary homecoming.
One open house with food.
We saw lions, tigers and bears.
All dead and stuffed…oh my.
Celebrated the 92nd birthday of a grandfather.
Tuesday took us to Temple square.
I met Elder Ballard.
Wednesday the van had minor surgery.
My dream came true.
Blogger kin were waiting at Café Rio.
My friend became a father for the fourth time.
And my sister shared the wonders of Hawaii.
Thursday’s fishing trip never happened.
Mother Nature wasn’t feeling up to it.
Got stuffed twice at Tucanos.
Once from eating.
The other from paying the bill.
Friday found us at the zoo.
Real lions, tigers and bears (except there wasn’t a lion).
The cold weather persisted.
Drove across town.
Saw 3-D dinosaurs at the Clark Planetarium.
Saturday, shed tears of “until next time”.
Drove to Paradox.
Stayed at the Hayes Hilton.
Drove twelve more hours on Sunday.
Still recovering from exhaustion.
That is my report.

Can I Pencil You In?

We are coming to Utah this week. Rhonda’s sister is getting married and their long lost brother and his brood are going to be in Utah as well. We have not seen the MIA brother for four years so it’s bound to be a treat. We will have approximately 9 short days for our visit before I have to return to my post here at TTU.

I also daydream about a gathering. A gathering at Café Rio. A gathering at Café Rio with fellow bloggers. I have a dream!


The dilemma: I honestly do not know if there will be time for such a gathering. I feel bad that the last time we came up to Utah that the dreamed get-together never took place. Will this be an 0-2?

Can I pencil you in? I will provide updates via the Blog. Get your mo-jo working. Give those monkey bones a toss. If nothing else, I say come to the reception. Who cares if you don’t know the bride or the groom?

Renting Rudolph in the Off-season

EASTER BUNNY: Yo Santa! Lean your ear this way.

SANTA CLAUSE: Make it quick, I’ve got to go check out the new fawns.

EASTER BUNNY: Santa, mind if I call you Kris? It is Kris right?

SANTA CLAUSE: Yes. Mind if I call you Peter?

EASTER BUNNY: All’s fair. You see, I’ve got a proposition for you.

SANTA CLAUSE: It’s not something illegal is it? I’ve got an image to maintain. Can’t have myself on my own naughty list.

EASTER BUNNY: Kris, what kind of bunny do you think I am? ...Don’t answer that. No, it’s perfectly legit. You see, there’s this snow storm over west Texas and it’s like Easter and all and snow tends to kinda slow me down a bit. (beat)

SANTA CLAUSE: And where do I fit into your dilemma Peter?

EASTER BUNNY: I was wondering if I could rent Rudolph...ya know with this being your off-season and all.

SANTA CLAUSE: Rent Rudolph? Why I must say that this is a first.

EASTER BUNNY: As you know, snow this time of year is rare...especially in Texas. Normally I wouldn’t think twice about the snow, but Texas is really, really big and I’m afraid that I would get slowed down to the point of not finishing my rounds until lunch on Tuesday...and I’m kinda small and don’t think I could last until then...it’s not like I came prepared ...no, I was never a boy scout. They don’t have scouts for bunnies...but that’s beside the point. Now where was I? Oh yes, I didn’t plan on bringing extra food with me and all that chocolate is great and all but it’s not very filling...why I’d look more like a mangy jackrabbit with a tape worm come Tuesday. I too have an image to maintain.

SANTA CLAUSE: So you were hopping that I would rent Rudolph for the day?


EASTER BUNNY: Did you just say hopping?


SANTA CLAUSE: Couldn’t resist the pun.


EASTER BUNNY: Yes. I would like to rent Rudolph for the night...to be more precise...to guide me through this storm so that I can deliver all the Easter goods before tomorrow morning.

SANTA CLAUSE: What are you willing to offer? I’m not about to fill stockings with 8 month old hard-boiled eggs.

EASTER BUNNY: As it so happens, I have a surplus of chocolate. Chocolate has a longer shelf life. All you and your elves would have to do is rewrap them in Christmas deco. I could probably provide 2/3 of your yearly quota for next Christmas.

SANTA CLAUSE: That’s a lot of chocolate and a lot of labor involved with the rewrapping and all.

EASTER BUNNY: ok. Ok. I’ll throw in my own wrapping machine. All you have to do is place the chocolates on your conveyor belt and my machine will do the rest.

SANTA CLAUSE: They’re not all going to be egg and bunny shaped chocolate candies are they? That would seem a bit odd. Kids are getting brighter and brighter every year you know.

EASTER BUNNY: No no no no. It would be all the Hershey, Doves, Reeses...all the cross seasonal stuff.

SANTA CLAUSE: Well Peter, it sounds like you’ve made yourself a deal. Let me go introduce you to Rudolph.

EASTER BUNNY: Man Kris. You’re the greatest. Everything the kids say about you is true

SANTA CLAUSE: let’s not go overboard. Brown nosing is soooo unbecoming of someone like you.

(enter the reindeer Hilton)

EASTER BUNNY: Wow! It really does glow so bright. Like a light bulb

RUDOLPH: Who’s this clown?

SANTA CLAUSE: Meet your new best friend...for the night.

exit

I Can Swing a Racket

When the days were less troublesome and time was in more abundance, I occasionally found myself [no, not in the soul searching way] on the tennis courts behind Dixon Middle School. Usually, I was in the company of my friend Jory. While neither of us ever had ambitions of playing competitively, we managed to occasionally impress each other with our abilities. In other words, we advanced from the novice level of the game.

It wasn’t long before my SIL Rebecca discovered that I was sneaking into her field of interest and the challenge of a game was issued. What young teenage boy can resist such a challenge? For her, it must have been like stealing candy from a baby. If ever it was possible to finish lower than Love, I certainly came close. For the sly spider lured the fly to the safety of her net. The wicked serve with the spin on the ball left my eyes spinning, my hand eye coordination was more like a drunken stupor….and so my play time resumed with Jory.


And then the days grew shorter. Time began to issue its call to responsibility and adulthood and eventually a mission.

In the first couple of post mission years I played a game or two of tennis. I don’t rightly recall with whom. For years, my racket moved with me from place to place— always collecting dust, zipped up— the bag over its head, muffling its cries to get out.

Enter Spring of 2007. An invitation is made by my friend Adam in the ward to come join him and his “tennis” friends. With great hesitation, I accepted his invite [those who know me know that my body feels old and is out of shape and suffered two long term injuries playing softball last year]. Two weeks ago, in spite of nature’s fury, I found myself on a lighted court at night with four other players eager to get their game on. A silent prayer was offered, asking for help in not looking the fool. When the match was over, I told Adam that he served like a girl…like my sister in-law. That was a compliment. Aside from not being able to return his serves very well,

I held my own.

My serve was on and off like a light switch

My backhand is still in hiding. When I find it I’ll have to dust it off too.

I held my own. And returned to play again last night. I even returned a few of Adam’s serves. And no injuries to report. That is my report.

And The winner is....

Many celebrations have come and gone already this year: the Oscars, passing kidney stones, delivering a baby, 30th Birthdays, climbing the Y for the first [or second time], getting a new [used] set of wheels for free,… these are just to name a few of the oodles and oodles of note worthy events.

The newest and greatest and most marvelous of all celebrations [at this exact moment in time] is one worthy of a joint celebration. Puxa Meu is at the top of the charts!!! It’s ready to go platinum baby! Just Google "Puxa meu" and da ta da da! It’s me. Right there on top. Just like the palm reader on 1505 West Center [in Provo] said would happen. Who would have thought that such a gal could have foreseen all y’all’s actions with your mouse click after mouse click, tallying up the hits for my site. Ole Mark McGwire would be proud of such a hit record…and I don’t even use steroids. Naturally, I’m not a one-man-band. I really do owe it all y’all. So pat yourself on the back, toot your horn, do the “Oh what a feeling” Toyota leap, tell me how much you love me and adore me and want to be me. Too far? Okay, ignore the last 15 words or so [but remember that shallow praise will go along way with me].