Grandson # six !

Abby and Mike had their baby this morning at 9:01.
So Jake's got a new little brother.
He weighed 8 pounds 6 oz. and was 20 inches long!
He's beautiful, of course!

The proud grama and grampa!
Six little boys, no quiet little girls for us!

Oh Christmas Tree!

Whitney came over today to decorate my Christmas tree!
I have a little tree in the living room.
She and Nick always decorated the family room tree,
and I guess she's not quite ready to
let it go! I'm very grateful. She did a lovely job!

Jake came over to help. After it was all finished he put on
Grampa's glasses for the final inspection.
He said " the tree is beautiful" and it is!
Thanks Whitney for all your help.

Thanksgiving Day

We had a lovely thanksgiving day! Nick drove in on Tuesday. Whit and Jason made tons of marvelous dressing! Jim's turkey was delicious. Jolyn and Kelly made wonderful desserts and I made my yams. It was fun having Jolyn's family here. I used mom's china with the pink roses, and to finish up we played dominoes following Jiggs' rules, so a little like thanksgiving days of old.

I am Thankful!

I have many reasons to be grateful .

Here are just a few.
Hope you have a very Happy Thanksgiving.
Love, Polly

Do you see any resemblance?

I spend a lot of time with this little boy.

Everyday he reminds me more and more of.....

his mother!!! not just his cute smile, but his personality.

He is a very determined little child. He knows what he wants and how to get it.

He just smiles, puts his arms around me,

and says "I love you, grama polly"!

That about does it.

Music

I remember an awful day years ago, we put dad into a nursing home, for one night. We all tried so hard to sugar coat it for his sake, but he was terrified. He had cancer. The hospital had discharged him. This particular nursing home was the only one that would take him. We got him to his room, tried to make him comfortable. We brought him a TV from home. We had reservations, but kept trying to reassure Dad, telling him it would be all right. We finally left for the night. I am sure dad was scared and felt abandoned. That feeling was justified when dad called early the next morning in an urgent voice saying "get me out of here"! We spent the day finding another place that would help him feel better determined that he wouldn't spend another night where he was.

Years later I was in the hospital, feeling sick. After a long, sleepless night I wandered down the hall, because I heard some guy playing a guitar and singing. He was so good! He sat there for about an hour playing, just the kind of music dad loved, bluesy, folk music. I was so tired. That hospital stay I hadn't been able to sleep well, so I sat in that room, closed my eyes and felt the music in every part of my body. Muscles relaxed as the music washed over me like gentle waves. As I sat there and listened I thought of dad and his love of music. I could picture him when he was listening to music that he loved, his eyes closed halfway, his foot tapping to the beat, maybe humming or a little harmoninzing along with the song. If only dad had had live music that night in the rest home. This music took me back to another hospital stay when I couldn't breath. I was so sick and scared. For about a week I battled to get my oxygen levels up to 90 and they just wouldn't go there. They were giving me mega doses of prenisone. Everytime they put the oxygen meter on my finger I would try and will myself to have it be at least 90. It never was. I could hardly walk to the bathroom, and had to sit to brush my teeth. I thought if I didn't die from not breathing I would die from going crazy. A sweet nurse that had been working with me brought a CD player into my room. We picked out a random CD of quiet music, put it in and I layed back and listened. It was beautiful piano music.

As I lay there and listened I felt as if my sweet dear friend and neighbor who is a most talented pianist was sitting next to me, playing the piano, just for me. I started to feel peaceful and calm. My friend was there with me, even when she physically was not. I could feel her presence through the music. I was overwhelmed , and tears of gratitude rolled from my eyes. As I reflect on those two experiences with music and how they helped me at critical times of my life, I can only say thank you to Heavenly Father for the love of music that was put in my very soul and nurtured by my dad. For an appreciation of those that have that great talent and then go out and share it with others, to bring them happiness, joy and peace. Oh - and did I mention that my dear sweet neighbor's name is Pat? Guess what that guy in the hospital's name was?

Thanksgiving thoughts

Ah, Thanksgiving Day-
When the eare-wearied man seeks his mother once more,
And the worn matron where the girl smiled before-
What moistens the lips and what brightens the eye?
What calls back the past, like the rich pumpkin pie?

John Greenleaf Whittier

Home!

Arriving home from a journey or from a day's work holds a restorative power that humbles me. Home welcomes me no less than if it had two strong arms to embrace me, and when I cross that threshold sometimes I linger there to breathe in its assuring welcome. All that I know is hanging in the air here. Light filters in through windows and falls lazily on every surface, defying the insistent metronome of the mantle clock, moving at it's own imperceptible pace. Shadows and light and familiar patterns...home soothes me and buffers the biting winds of the world.

-author unknown

Veterans Day

"How far that little candle
throws his beams!
So shines a good deed
in a weary world."

William Shakespeare

A Great Legacy

Jim and I went to the Jazz game the other night. We took trax down, went to dinner at the Nauvoo cafe and then wandered through Temple Square before the game. It was a beautiful night. We went into the south visitors center where they show you how the Temple was constructed. It is amazing, even having learned and known about it all my life, it is great to be reminded of what a remarkable achievement this building is.

We were talking to some lovely sister missionaries who explained how the granite was brought down the canyon by ox drawn carts like these. These sisters were from Brazil and New Zealand, and they as they told of the Saints sacrifice they got tears in their eyes. Then they asked where we were from and if we were members of the church?

(Granite spread around Temple square)

We told them that we were members of the church and that we both had ancestors who had actually worked on the Temple and who had come across the plains. Their eyes got big and they asked how we felt, that we would have our own people work on this great Temple and come as pioneers and give up all that they had for the gospel. I replied that I felt grateful and blessed that I came from such a family, and only hope to live to meet them and thank them for their great example and willingness to do all that they did.

What a great legacy!