27 September 2027
Hello Isaac,
You’ll be happy to know the Red Herring is parked in the
driveway, getting ready for the final phase of repairs. I’m supposed to take it
in for a wheel alignment this coming Friday and then see about the tires. Once
that’s done, it’ll go back to Kevin for the timing belt kit then, cross
fingers, we should be good to go for awhile. We’ve spent close to a thousand
dollars so far on repairs, but I still think it’s a bargain compared to
shopping around for a different vehicle, particularly as we’re still paying
Mom’s truck off. Good thing teaching at BYUI is back in swing so we can afford
these repairs. But it does mean once the last round is complete, I can go back
to getting buckets of sand and maybe finish leveling the back yard this fall.
And I am looking forward to driving it to work in the morning. It’s funny to
say, but I’ve missed it these past few weeks.
Yesterday we took a
trip to Montpelier to see the last day of the temple open house. It took 2 ½
hours to drive there, and it felt like a long trip. But it was worth it. When
we got there we waited in the old Tabernacle next door. The tabernacle was built
in 1917 and has some Art Deco flairs, particularly on the lighting, that they
echoed in the temple. All looking very streamlined.
As we were touring the temple, one of the volunteers there
came up to me and commented on my “John Widtstoe beard.” I’m familiar with the
name; he was an early apostle, scientist, and man-about-town as you’d assume if
someone was commenting on a beardy lookalike. I Googled photos of him later and
really couldn’t find a photo of him with a beard like mine, but perhaps this
guy knows more than the Internet when it comes to old LDS apostles. Anway, he
was pretty funny about it. As we were heading out he came up to me one last
time and asked if the beard gave me any “extra authority” at home. I laughed
and said, “Oh, you’re kidding,” and Mom echoed that: “Oh, not a stitch.” So
even with my early 1900s apostle beard, I still don’t get any respect.
After the temple
visit, we drove another 15 miles south to see the Paris Tabernacle. This one
was built in 1888 and was used as a guinea pig for the foundation reinforcement
they performed on the Salt Lake temple just recently, or so the tour guide
says. I’ve always wondered why the early saints in Idaho didn’t rally to build
a temple like they had in some of the far-flung Utah settlements. I suppose
divine inspiration had some to do with the building of temples, even back then.
And the Logan temple, finished before the tabernacle here, was not that far
off. Sixty miles, per Google Maps, and only one valley over. So I’m sure the
saints in the valley around Paris didn’t visit the temple much during the
winter.
We had thoughts – at least I did – about going further south
and visiting some of the sites from my family’s history in Laketown, Utah, but
as it was we didn’t get home until after 8 pm and the dogs and made an unholy
mess in the kitchen, even though we had Maaike come and let them out once while
we were gone. We stopped for dinner on the way home, but waited until we got to
Idaho Falls before we did so. As we passed Pocatello, Mom commented from way in
the back “So we’re not stopping in Pocatello?” Liam and I responded that we
were more familiar with Idaho Falls than Pocatello, so she called us cowards,
which was right. Though I know there’s a great Chinese restaurant in Poky but
have a hard time talking Mom into eating such food.
I’m sure you’re thrilled by all of this food- and poop-related
news. I might be a little cranky with the dogs as they had me out of bed just
after five this morning and we really whiny about getting breakfast straight
away. That’s just entirely too early. They usually don’t get breakfast until
after six, when I’m getting ready for work, the little twerps. What galls the
most is now they’re napping peacefully in different areas of the basement and
look at me like “Hey, why did you get us up so early” when I happen to make
some kind of noise or movement that wakes them up.
Hey, imagine my surprise when I opened up Facebook yesterday
and saw this on the Gilbert Arizona mission page. We’re watching you, Wazowski,
always watching . . .
I mean, I guess y’all know what you look like so you don’t
need to see this picture, but it was fun to see it in the wild. And you know, I
know Elders are young these days, but they guy sitting in the middle on the
couch looks like he’s about 14 years old. Tell him this 54-year-old who is
regularly mistaken for a 78-year-old is jealous of his youthful looks.
Love, Dad
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