Earthlife

How to make the Grand Canyon more grand

As you know my husband’s name is LeGrand.

Many people get confused over the name.

I tell them it’s a French name,

and the best way for them to remember it is to think of it’s meaning.

LeGrand means “The Big.”

In fact, one of my favorite nicknames that LG was given is

The Big and The Mighty.

And you can all decide for yourself if that describes my hubby.

So, what does the name definition have to do with my post?

It was pure coincidence that we visited The Grand Canyon

on LeGrand’s birthday.

In honor of LeGrand visiting The Grand Canyon,

you all should know that our girls have renamed

The Grand Canyon to LeGrand Canyon.

It’s very fitting I think.

Don’t you think LG looks just like this Native American

who claims to be The Grand Canyon?

And, to make the visit even more grand,

we made sure our rental car was a Grand Caravan.

I think the train is due for some updating

along with all the other signage at the Grand Canyon.

It shouldn’t be hard, just add the “Le” at the front.

For me, The Grand Canyon, was just another evidence of God’s majesty!

What is possibly more grand than that?

Except maybe the scriptures.

If you think of The Colorado River as Willy Wonka’s chocolate river,

it’s automatically more grand.

I thought it a grand coincidence that the Arch from the Arches National Park

showed up in clouds right over the Grand Canyon.

I think that maybe God was trying to tell us that he

approved of our name change.

If you decide to hike, make sure that you read the signs so you can get back up.

Stop at the shop and gets some Dreyer’s Grand ice-cream.

Hide from mom in the tower and make her panic for a good twenty minutes

that you may have fallen into the canyon.

That’s always grand fun.

Especially when dad is in on the game.

Doesn’t it look like they are touching a painting?

Nope just pointing out the grandness.

Put yourself into the painting.

Because you are part of God’s grand creations too.

Tease your mom and wife some more by laughing at her

as she hollers for you to step back.

Then laugh some more as she eats crow for freaking out for no reason.

Take time to notice the very few flowers in the area.

Show your children that you are just as grand

as any of those overpriced toys that they want.

Camp…you gotta camp.

Find something very small to remember the grand occasion.

This is our baby owl.

Her name is Paquito.

We let dad name her for his birthday.

Enjoy a grand hike or two or three.

Sit right at the grand edge.

It’s so much fun.

Notice all the grand fossils.

And the grandest layering ever.

Can we call this a grand bee?

And, make sure you visit at the grandest times of the day.

Sunrise and sunset of course.

Take notice of the grand calves. Nothing less would be worthy.

Lean over just once and ponder the

grandness of your own mortality.

The horizon is endless and so is the land.

What’s more grand than that?

Add your own caption here. I can’t think of one.

On your drive home, take a grand minute or two to realize that the

grandness of God and his creations are really never ending.

You just have to keep looking.

The Playground back in Old School

I had one of the best walks down memory road recently at a little park in Sayre, OK.

(I think that is the right state)

When we stopped to eat at a very retro park close to the interstate,

I just had to take pictures!

When would I ever see playground equipment like this again?

There must not be a single lawyer in this little country town.

I can’t believe that playground equipment like this is still in existence,

much less, actually STILL in a park.

If it wasn’t 110 degrees outside, I would have INSISTED my kids take a try on that slide.

Those were the days, weren’t they…you know, the ones when it was fun to go to the park and brave the safety hazards….oh man, old school, when are you coming back to us?

Dear Sir South,

Do you think you could do me, your favorite Western transplant, a favor?

Can you please invite some of my favorite features of Western living

to come and visit from time to time?

I would be much obliged, sir.

I just can’t be taking 2,000 mile trips whenever I need a fixin’.

I know I ought not complain, but I so miss things from my native land.

I love the you with most of my heart now.

And, I surprised even myself that I missed some things about you while I was away.

But, there are just so many joys of life that are absent here.

I don’t think it would be a terrible crime to let some of those things in.

For instance,

I know this Jack in the Box looks scary,

but what harm could he really do while he driving that convertible

and cooking me up some 2 tacos for 99 cents at the same time?

And, I know we have as many icees as we could ever want,

but don’t you think it is time they had a little competition?

I think that some slurpees from 7-11 would be the perfect threat/compliment

to our only two flavors: coke and cherry.

Besides I am a Mormon and I can’t even drink the coke flavor.

And that cherry stuff is getting a little old.

It’s as if you’ve never heard of the flavors pina colada or orange or grape or

Mountain Dew or Dr Pepper or berry or

…..well, I am sure that you are getting the picture.

This is called real Mexican food.

It is a slice of heaven.

You have not tasted the perfection of combined flavors

until you have tried this mix of pineapple and shrimp!

I know we have some Mexicans living here…

don’t you think we could sneak them some recipes

and give them a loan to help them open up shop?

Western Bacon Cheeseburgers….I guess they will have to stay in the West.

Boo hoo.

This is called a covered bus stop.

I know I NEVER ride the bus, so this seems like an odd request, but

it just makes me feel better to see people have a nice comfortable shelter while they wait.

I’m not even going to mention the sidewalk

because you already know how I feel about its absence here.

This is what we call red clay. It’s beautiful in its own way.

A cactus. This is the one thing that I really don’t have to have.

I just thought that I would add it in for a good measure.

I know that we have a Waffle House,

but do you think that they could somehow hire my dad

and pay him enough to actually make him move out here.

I just love his fried eggs and toast.

Thank you sir.

You know where to find me.

I will anxiously be awaiting your reply.

Alice Gold

Goodnight Sweet Pup

My sister Renee had ten puppies while we were out in Utah.
They were a huge hit with all of the kids.

Speaking of puppies, I am calling all animal lovers and big burly man lovers!

This Youtube video is so so sweet.
Thanks to Valerie for the informative e-mail.

Native American Cuisine

In the West there is something called a Navajo Taco. For lack of a better description, it is kind of a mix between a taco, a Pita sandwich, and a scone. And even though I somehow just managed to make them sound very scary, Navajo Tacos are very good and filling. We are sad that we haven’t eaten one in years. We have only Petro’s in the south. I suppose that is as close as we get to a Native American Cuisine. I guess all the Confederates scared all the Natives away long ago.

Well, as part of our trip out west, it was our goal to eat every Western cuisine that we miss while living in the South. We hadn’t really mentioned a Navajo taco, but whenever we saw a place that offered anything we can only get out West we stopped. We were constantly on the lookout for our favorites. (remembered or not)

After spending a day at The Grand Canyon, we immediately got on the road. We were in a hurry to get to my mom and dads. We had not eaten lunch and were starving, but figured we would see something on the way and would save time by eating in the car. We wrongly suspected we could find food on the road cheaper than we could in the Canyon. We ended up bi passing the only little town that would have anything to eat, and gassed up in the middle of nowhere. The trip turned into hours and we were well into dinner time.

The only thing we passed on the road were these Navajo Shops where the Native American tribe members sell their jewelry, pottery and such. There was a new shop about every 10 miles. They all looked exactly the same and seemed to market and sell the exact same items.

Now I know you all already realize that LG has an MBA and is always looking for good business opportunities. We were all getting hungrier and crankier by the second. Finally LG turned to me and in desperation exclaimed, “You would think that some of these Navajos would start selling some tacos.”

And, that, ladies and gentlemen, gives you the quick wit I live with on a daily basis. LG needs to start his own blog that features his humor. He’s so much funnier than I could ever hope to be. I am so happy to have a husband that has never let me down on his promise to make me laugh every day.

Run chicken run, In memorium

I have found a lot of joy watching Valerie’s chickens grow up.

The joy ended today.

Valerie called just to share her depression with a fellow chicken lover.

Two stray dogs came and tortured or ate all of our grown babies while they were home alone today.

I feel like I am stuck emotionally in a chicken holocaust.

Not to mention the loss of the future farm fresh eggs.

The chickens just didn’t stand a chance.

Especially since Big Mama who ended up being Big Papa had already been eaten by the humans.

God bless Valerie while she cleans up the feathers.

And every time in the future she hears the joke that begins with “why did the chicken cross the road”, she won’t be able to stop herself….

“to run away from those mean dogs.”

God’s in charge, and I don’t need a picture to illustrate my point.

My Internet has been out for a couple of days.

I have been going a little crazy.

I have become dependent, not just because of my blogging,

but because of the following reasons:

I could not get maps to anywhere I needed to go.

I could not balance my checkbook or make sure I had enough money for retail therapy.

I could not check my e-mail.

I could not google anything, including but not limited to the Olympic stats, several health conditions, recipes, school stuff, and church stuff.

I couldn’t use the yellow pages.com and you all know that I have forgotten how to use a real phonebook.

and, last, but not least,

I was forced to finish the organizing and cleaning I started on Monday.

Which, also meant that I was forced to ALMOST finish ironing my husband’s whole closet worth of clothes. And, you all know how much I hate to iron. I say almost, only because I have limited myself to 15 items of clothes a day.

Well, the reason for the post. The at&t guy looked at me a little crazily while I told him that God himself had been making our Internet work, even though it had not been hooked up to the right port for the past 3 years.

“Seriously”, I informed, “I have no doubt that God waited to let my connection go until he knew that I could handle it. Can you believe that it only took me 3 years to get my act together?”

Um, yeah, he didn’t answer me.

So, my friend Kristy e-mailed me a little story that illustrates that God knows what he is doing. I hope you all get a good smile…don’t know if it is good enough for a laugh. Along with that smile, I hope you know that God is always watching over you, even if it comes in the form of a flying cat.

Dwight Nelson recently told a true story about the pastor of his church. He had a kitten that climbed up a tree in his backyard and then was afraid to come down. The pastor coaxed, offered warm milk, etc. The kitty would not come down. The tree was not sturdy enough to climb, so the pastor decided that if he tied a rope to his car and pulled it until the tree bent down, he could then reach up and get the kitten. That’s what he did, all the while checking his progress in the car. He then figured if he went just a little bit further, the tree would be bent sufficiently for him to reach the kitten. But as he moved the car a little further forward, the rope broke. The tree went ‘boing!’ and the kitten instantly sailed through the air – out of sight.

The pastor felt terrible. He walked all over the neighborhood asking people if they’d seen a little kitten.No. Nobody had seen a stray kitten. So he prayed, “Lord, I just commit this kitten to your keeping,” and went on about his business.

A few days later he was at the grocery store, and met one of his church members. He happened to look into her shopping cart and was amazed to see cat food. This woman was a cat hater and everyone knew it, so he asked her, “Why are you buying cat food when you hate cats so much?” She replied,”You won’t believe this,” and then told him how her little girl had been begging her for a cat, but she kept refusing.

Then a few days before, the child had begged again, so the Mom finally told her little girl, “Well, if God gives you a cat, I’ll let you keep it.” She told the pastor, “I watched my child go out in the yard, get on her knees, and ask God for a cat. And really, Pastor, you won’t believe this, but I saw it with my own eyes. A kitten suddenly came flying out of the blue sky, with its paws outspread, and landed right in front of her.”

Five Years For The Fries

We used to live in Utah.

LG had a very favorite restaurant.

Ever since we moved to Knoxville, LG has been counting down the days until he could go back.

For five years, the conversations have been countless.

“We have to go to The Training Table every day whenever we go back.”

He can never get too many cheese fries and Utah famous fry sauce.

You have to try them. Even if you are counting calories.

The caloric splurge will not disappoint.

The kids thought ordering over the phone was pretty cool.

But they knew that they had to work for the food.

Alright girls, figure out how to get home.

Is that what I think it is?

Getting gas in Salt Lake City can be a test of the mind over matter.

First, notice the price of gas.

Second take a look at that pepsi bottle on top of the gas pump.

I don’t know about you guys, but that didn’t look like Pepsi to me.

Maybe it is Pepsi in the form of “already broken down by the human bladder”.

And, somebody needs to tell some caffeine drinking Mormon to start drinking more water and to dispose of his bodily fluids in a more efficient and less gross manner.

YUCK!

But, I guess I conquered the test.

We filled up, sanitized up, and got on our way to the armpit of America:

Rawlins, WY.

I wrote a new ad for the city.

It goes somthing like this:

Come and stay with us.

If you are in the middle of Wyoming with nowhere else to go, we welcome you.

We are the only small town in America

where a yucky hotel room costs you ONLY $130 a night.

The wait at the dilapidated TacoBell/KFC is over an hour.

And the stagecoach designed roads leave you lucky for the life of your rental car and kids.