Sophie's Story

  The teacher of the adult Sunday school class started the lesson by asking people to name beautiful places. People were naming parks, mountains, assorted hiking trails and beaches. The teacher included a hole at Pebble Beach Golf Club, which I expected from him as he is an avid golfer. I was sitting in my seat silently fuming. Many of these people had lived here for several years and not one mentioned a place within the state. I raised my hand.    "The confluence of the Minnesota and Mississippi rivers at Mendota," I said. The teacher made a few remarks, but it was clear to me he had no idea what I was talking about. I had chosen that spot for a reason. He wanted to talk about places that were beautiful and spiritual. The confluence was and probably still is important to several of the Native American tribes in the area. There are many burial mounds in this area protected by fencing from the bike path that runs along the river.    I have met several people who have moved

   A lot of people don't know it, but C writes music as well as performs it. Over the years he has written a song for each of his children and me. One of my favourites is the song he wrote for his Dad. It is titled "Cotton Mill Joe".   The title refers to the job he held most of his life. Like many people in the south at that time, Mr. Warren, my father-in-law, worked at the cotton mill. That's what you did. I'm told he started out as a weaver before he went overseas in World War II. After the war, he came back a was a loom fixer. That meant it was his job to repair the looms when they broke and to make sure they kept running well. This was an important job because production had to be maintained and broken looms are bad for profits.   The song was written as an instrumental. It starts out with sort of a lazy melody. I can picture Mr.Warren sitting on a front porch,a glass of sweet tea nearby either rocking on a porch swing or visiting with his bothers on a hot

      A few weeks ago C and I cleaned out our garage and basement storage room. We found many things that we had forgotten. I started thinking about some of the odd things I own and have kept. I would like to share part of the list with you.    I own a milk can from the Baronett Co-op. I used to stay with my grandparents on their small dairy farm in Wisconsin. Grandpa would milk the cows every morning (and I think every evening although I'm not sure). He would put some of the milk in a large basin for the barn cats and some in a pitcher to take to the house to use. The rest would go into large clean metal cans. These cans would be taken to the milk house where they would sit in a cement tub of water until the milk man would collect them to bring to a local cheese factory. When a bulk tank was installed in the milk house, the cans were no longer needed and discarded. My parents refinished one and it was in their house. I wanted one too. I found one that was still in good shape. I

   C and I decided to go out on an impromptu date. The restaurant we planned to go to had a long wait list so we decided to go to another place. It is one of my favourites and one we have been to before. Normally we go there only for very special occasions, but we had just got our income tax refund back and decided that we could afford a bit of a splurge.    We were shown to our table and given menus. I already knew what I was going to have. I was going to have the Tasting Menu. The Tasting Menu is is six courses of different entrees from the menu. (Served in appropriate portions of course.) Since this restaurant sources its food locally and seasonally, the menu changes every couple of weeks. It's my way of being a bit adventurous.   Usually I look at the menu to see what is on it. If there are too many things I don't like, then I won't order it. This has never happened though, so I just ordered the menu without checking first. This is what I had.   Course 1 Strawberry

  A few weeks or so I was reading some article on the Internet about Facebook. This article wasn't about the founders or the IPO or about privacy concerns. This article mentioned that people who were on Facebook a lot reported less satisfaction with their lives than those who spent less or no time on it. The reason for this is that people look at the postings of friends, friends of friends and family. These posts often show good things that happen or new things that are acquired. It is easy to look at some of this and feel like your life is dull and uninteresting. That you may be falling behind the Joneses and anyone else out there. I can see where it can cause depression and discontentment. People tend not to post bad news, so it can give a false impression.   I think Bishop Campbell might have read something similar. The third hour meeting at church last Sunday was a sort of Mother's Day social gathering as opposed to the usual lesson. Bishop Campbell came to say a few word

   The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has four books which they call the Standard Works. They are the Bible, The Book of Mormon,The Doctrine and Covenants and The Pearl of Great Price. Members are encouraged to read and study them. A few months ago I was asked to read The Book of Mormon. I had already read it once so I could better understand some of the General Conference talks. I reread it. Once I had finished it I decided it would be a good idea to continue reading the D&C and Pearl of Great Price. I finished them and felt I was on a roll. What could I read next? Then it hit me. I'll read the Bible. Cover to cover.    I'd never done that before. Like all good Lutheran children,I had read parts of it. I memorized the verses I was supposed to memorize in Sunday school and confirmation class. I remember spending one confirmation class reading the Song of Solomon, but that's a story for another day. Yes, I should read the entire Bible.    I know that I

      "Wanna hear a joke?" a voice from the back seat said.    "Sure," I replied.     "A man was driving along with some penguins in the back seat. A cop pulled him over and said to him,'Sir You need to take those penguins to the zoo!' The man said, 'OK' and then drove away. A few days later the cop saw the same man with the penguins in the back seat. The cop pulled him over again and said, 'I thought I told you to take those penguins to the zoo!' 'I did,' the man said 'And today we're going to the movies.'" I started to chuckle and I heard a cackling laugh from the back seat. "Heard that one from an 80 year old man," the voice said. I smiled. It was one of the best jokes I'd ever heard.    The voice in the back seat belonged to MarJean. She is an elderly woman who joined the Church a month or so ago. Since we go past where she lives on our way to Sunday meeting we stop and pick her up.    She

    Last week I read a story on Yahoo about a father who was trying to figure out why his autistic son was acting out at school. He had consulted therapists and others as to why his son would behave this way when he had not done so before. Finally the man sent his son to school with a recording device hoping that maybe that would provide a clue. The result was posted on You Tube and showed the teachers taunting (that was the word used in the article) and speaking inappropriately to and about this child. (I'm using the information from this story, I did not choose to hear the clip.) I was appalled. Assuming that this is true it shows a shocking lack of professionalism from the teachers.    I felt really bad for the boy. This could affect how he learns and how he feels about school which could affect his future. Just as a good teacher can have a very positive effect on a student throughout her/his life so also can a bad teacher.   Here is a tale of two teachers and how I have been

   After I finished writing and sending the weekend column I turned once again to my pile of note cards. I practiced the talk again standing at the rail. Colby jumped up on the rail and walked over my notes. I still stumbled more than I would have liked.   The  talk timed out right around the seven minute mark, but I decided to remove one card. I had been asked for my perspective and the section I was leaving out was about something pretty obvious. Now I was starting to get really nervous.   I was wondering when this was going to happen. Things were going just too well, I didn't have to struggle much with what I was going to say. When things are too easy I get suspicious and wonder when things are going to fall apart. I was annoyed at my nerves, but also comforted by them. (Weird, yes, but that is the way it is.)   C came home from work and we went out for lunch and to run errands. I told him what I had planned to say. As we talked I realised that there were a few things I want