4 Wheeling Out West

Four wheeling in Mesquite.  It's a perfect place.
The warm, dry, desert and the sun in your face.
Logandale's red rocks, have beauty and grace.
Go slow, take your time or you can even race.

We enjoyed last weekend in Nevada with our side by side four wheeler.  Discovering the trails east of town, red sand and Joshua trees for miles.   Then took them out to Logandale's red rocks, near the Valley of Fire monument.   

Polaris Razors were abundant and fast.  
It'd be great to have one, with a flag mast.
Don't go too fast and end up in a cast.
The trip was short, but the memories will last.

Two days riding went way to fast.  We want to go back, but the memories will last. 

Wedding Wishes & Weeping

 

Sending a loving couple wedding wishes.

Way past young and glad to find their fishes.

Performed by a brother, who is the Bish's.

Now to open gifts and some new dishes.

 

 

My nephew, Adam, is a bishop.   He was able to perform the ceremony for his brother.  He said,  "He was happy to marry his wife, and now he is marrying his brother."  We all laughed.

We are all so happy this couple who have waited many years to find the perfect person.  Both are amazing people and needed the chance to enjoy married life.   May they have many happy years together.  

Anniversary And Antiques

In March we celebrate deaths and birthdays.

Mom's on the sixth, remembering her always.

Found in her cedar chest treasures and displays.

She saved for special times and come what mays.

I get them out and use because she never did.  Why is it?  We save those special things for a rainy day, then it never comes and we don't ever use it.  After death, these things don't mean as much to our kids.  Who even knows what they were for or from.  Here on the right is Mom's wedding veil.  I  wish I had known, she had it.   I could have worn it for my own wedding.  Instead I borrowed one from a friend.   Some crocheted sweaters and doilies, probably Sandra's.  Who made them, Grandma Crane?  The green and floral table cloth on the left, I use in the spring.   Where did it come from?  Don't know.

Please use your special things now so you can wear them out instead of someone else that doesn't care. 

Days Down on the Crane Farm

In the old days on the farm, we sold eggs.
Daily, we fed and gathered them amongst their legs.
Dad woke us with a holler to get up, sometime he begs.
With a bucket of mash and a pail and we fed the crags.

Pictured is the 'Egg House', a small insulated shed sandwiched between the chicken coops.  It kept the eggs cool and safe until we cleaned them for market.  On the wall Mom wrote the 'Egg prices'.  They were $1 a dozen and sometimes less.  As you can see we had different sizes.  The farm has been sold and now all we have is memories and some pictures of our past. 

My Milk is Much Better

We disagree on which kind of milk is best.
Each has a favorite we've put to the test.
1 and 2 percent have beat out the rest.
Glad we have so much and know we are blessed.

We are a two milk family.  I like 1 percent or skim and Allan like 2 percent.  I wont allow him to buy whole milk.  Although growing up we both drank raw whole milk fresh from the cow.   My brother, Jim, then later Nile, milked the cows twice daily.  We sold it in glass gallon bottles for $1.  I never had to limit how much milk to drink.   I attribute my strong healthy bones to growing up on a farm.

Crazy About Christmas Choirs

Who loves to hear the many Christmas choirs.
The beloved songs remind us of church spires.
Makes us feel cozy and warm like at campfires,
Pinching our hearts like a pair of pliars.

I had the privilege of attending some parties where two choirs performed.  Riverton Madrigals in their lovely lavender vests, ties and dresses were full of energy and smiles.  I loved the catchy songs and choreography.   The exact number of men and women.  These kids are destined to bring joy to the world with their talents for years to come. 

The Mountain Chorale had gorgeous selections and many distinct parts.  One of my favorites was Do You Hear What I Hear.   Their voices blended and floated me along as on a peaceful plane.  The clarinet, violin and recorder added a lovely sound.

Christmas Isn't About Black Friday

Who's sick of the ads about Black Friday? They're like the elections and get in the way. Every day they offer a 'Deal'. Go away! Leave us alone. Let us enjoy our play.

This bird seems to be saying, "Leave me alone! I'll worry about it later, not now!" Businesses greedy to get their share of the goods are bombarding us with Black Friday sales every day. It seems to be more important than the Christmas holiday. No one has even mentioned Christ or Christmas. It makes me want to boycott shopping at any of their stores. I'll do it my way. Fortunately, it was much easier and slower paced when we were young. I'm glad our parents didn't go all out to make Christmas more about the commercial and presents than about family and Christ. I feel so sorry for my children and grand children facing the barrage out there.