Fringe benefits

The writers' conference I attended a week ago met in Gilbert, Arizona, in the Phoenix metro. I was born in the bordering city of Mesa and lived there until I was nearly 12. After my family moved north into Navajo country, we continued to visit Mesa several times a year to see grandparents and other relatives and to take care of the kind of business we couldn't do in Navajo County.

My two remaining uncles, my dad's younger brothers, and my husband's one aunt, his mother's sister, all live within 12 miles of the conference center. Seeing family again became a fringe benefit of attending this particular conference. It's a bonus gift I will always treasure.

My Uncle Gary still lives with his wife, Aunt Lynn, in the home I remember from girlhood. Neither of them is in excellent health, but--considering they're in their late 80s--they're doing rather well.

Uncle Harold, who just celebrated his 90th birthday, may be doing even better. He lives in a home he bought a few years ago, on the east side of the Valley of the Sun, drives his own car, and does most of his own cooking. Although he's outlived two wives, he doesn't lack for female companionship. He's dating a widow named Rita. I remember her from the first time they dated, decades ago, before he met the "cute blonde" (his words) who became his first wife.

My husband's Aunt Geniel, who is also 90, isn't doing as well--at least, not lately. A couple of weeks before our arrival, she fell and broke her shoulder. It's irreparable, but Geniel has an amazing pain threshold and says it doesn't bother her much. It does bother the rest of her body, which is reacting to the stress of the physical insult even though it does not register as pain, rising blood pressure being the most obvious sign. We spent some time with his cousin, Donalyn, and visited Aunt Geniel in a rehab hospital, where Donalyn did her mother's hair and Geniel shared stories about her family and girlhood. Despite the injury, she was in good spirits, and we enjoyed our time with her.







What a pleasure to see these wonderful people again! We don't know if we will have the chance in the future. It's a long way from northern California to the Valley of the Sun, and--although each person born comes with a lifetime guarantee--there's no guarantee as to how long that will last. We felt privileged to visit them this time. Call it a fringe benefit.

As an added benefit, I took my spouse on a tour down memory lane, visiting the homes where I lived as a child. At the second home, the place where we lived for a couple of years before moving north, the owner came out, saw us parked at the curb, and invited us in to tour the place. Everything has changed over the decades, but it's still much as I remember it, some of the major features left exactly as they were. We also saw schools I attended, parks where I played with friends, and a church building, now a school, where my family worshipped.

"You can never go home again." So said Thomas Wolfe and the man got it right. It wasn't home and hasn't been for a long time. Both my grandparents' homes, side by side, were long ago knocked down. A large church building stands where their homes once stood. My old church has become a private elementary school and my other schools have changed so much I recognized them only by their locations. Still, I felt the nostalgia of seeing it all again and remembering, just one more side benefit of showing up at last weekend's writers' conference. Thanks again, ANWA.

Making Lemonade, MCO in NYC

Some months ago, my baby girl, Rebecca, and her eldest son, Caleb, signed up with a wonderful group for an amazing opportunity. In becoming part of the Millennial Choirs and Orchestra (MCO), they looked forward to several important concerts, their summer season culminating in a highlight performance in Carnegie Hall.

Titled "Nearer, my God, to Thee," the concert began with an astonishing and deeply moving arrangement of "A Mighty Fortress" and consisted mostly of sacred music. Since the performance was scheduled for mid-July, they also offered a patriotic segment.


Five groups of choirs and orchestras from around the southwest studied the same music, preparing to divide into three casts, each of which would have one big night on the stage in the renowned Stern Concert Hall. Becca and Caleb were in the "blue" cast, scheduled for Saturday, July 13.

With a once-in-a-lifetime experience ahead of them, and a sold-out concert hall awaiting, Becca and Caleb endured an intense rehearsal schedule, costume fittings, and all the expected preparation. That wasn't all. The rest of the family wanted to see them in concert, and since they were going to be in Manhattan, they certainly wanted to take a few bites of all the Big Apple had to offer. Months of work, planning, and saving led up to the big day.

There they were, rehearsing on the concert stage, when the lights went out. At first, they didn't let it bother them. Accustomed to having the lighting technicians at work while they were, they continued on, using only the battery-operated lights on the orchestra's music stands to continue. When the blackout did not ease, the group became restless. This wasn't just normal light-testing, was it?

Soon the Hall officials came in to report that something had happened, blacking out all of central Manhattan. Yes, their scheduled performance was on that night, the night the lights went out throughout the central city on the exact anniversary of the 1977 Manhattan blackout. July 13 also came during Manhattanhenge, the one time annually when the setting sun lines up with the downtown streets.

For a short time, the musicians continued to rehearse, hoping and praying that the power would come back in time for their concert as scheduled. The Hall's staff knew when their fail-safe point occurred, the hour when it would be too late to load in an audience even if the power did return. When that time arrived, they came in to deliver the bad news: For the first time in its history, Carnegie Hall canceled a performance due to technical problems.

Imagine the heartbreak. This concert had been the focus of months of work, not just for hundreds of musicians, but for thousands of people among their family and friends, many of whom had traveled to NYC to enjoy the experience with loved ones. The disappointment was tangible for them all.

As they exited the hall, one woman announced, "I came here to sing. Let's sing." Most of the orchestra members could not participate, given the difficulty of setting up instruments on 57th Street, but the singers quickly organized and an impromptu concert began. Soon their director came up with a makeshift podium and began leading the group.

As the sun set between the skyscrapers of Manhattan, the Millennial Choirs sang. Though they missed their opportunity to perform to the 2,800+ people who would have heard them inside the hall, they ended up singing to hundreds on the streets of Manhattan. Several million have now heard their performances recorded on YouTube. (See #MCOINNYC I Stand All Amazed Carnegie Hall - NYC Power Outage, I Believe in Christ -

The Millennial Choirs and Orchestra went to New York to sing praises in a famous hall, but ended up singing to the world. It's a story I will always remember when stuck with lemons and making lemonade. 

Nothing like family

Summer is a great time for vacations, travel and family gatherings. Our family reunion happens every other year in odd-numbered years, which means we are just returning from a wonderful time with our very own wonderful people.

Some years ago, we realized that, with family spread out from sea to shining sea, we would have to plan something formal. Otherwise, our only meetings would be at weddings and funerals. Not everyone can make it even to those. With that in mind, we began planning our first reunion.

Son John, who is in business and marketing, alerted us right away to the problem of calling it a reunion. "That sounds like a couple of maiden aunts sitting under a tree, sipping lemonade and gossiping. You need to call it something exciting, you know, like a rock festival, like a something-palooza." On that day, AylaPalooza was born. This past one was AP 8.

Forty-two of us met in a cozy lodge near Bear Lake, a beautiful, natural lake on the Utah-Idaho border. Our daughter, Rebecca, hosted and divided up meal prep so no one ended up stuck in the kitchen. We had the lake for fun, but also the local Raspberry Festival (yum!), ATV trail-riding in the hills, a few organized group games, and an impromptu family dance on our final evening. Mostly, we had each other.


At our first AylaPalooza 14 years ago, some of our group had doubts about how well it would work. For the second one, the doubts coalesced around the question, "Can it be that good again?" By the end of the third, AylaPalooza had become an established tradition. We already know the June dates and the place for AP 9 in 2021.

I love seeing the cousins playing together. I love it that when a baby cries (our youngest this year was ten months old), an aunt, uncle, or cousin is on the spot to lift, cuddle, and calm. I grin at the impromptu games that arise when a son starts quoting lines from old favorite family movies and a brother jumps in to one-up him. I love these people and our precious gatherings every two years are worth all the money, time and trouble they take. There's nothing like family.

Susan Aylworth is the author of 18 published novels. Her latest is SUNNY'S SUMMER, a romance set in the Sierra foothills near her northern California home in the aftermath of the devastating #CampFire. Watch for AMBER IN AUTUMN, coming in September. She lives with her husband of 49 years, Roger. She loves to hear from readers. Find her at www.susanaylworth.com, @SusanAylworth, susan.aylworth.author@gmail.com, or facebook.com/Susan.Aylworth.Author. Also on Pinterest and Instagram.

Nothing like Family!

By the time you see this, I will be on my way to a gathering of family. When we first conceived this particular gathering, our son, John, who has a better grasp on marketing than I, said, "If you call it a Family Reunion, that sounds like a bunch of old maiden aunts, sitting under a tree, drinking lemonade and gossiping." I had to give him props for that. His next suggestion? "You need a jazzy name, something that sounds like a rock festival, like . . . how about AylaPalooza?"

We now stage an AylaPalooza every two years with different family members hosting from one to the next. This year, our daughter, Rebecca, is the host of AylaPalooza 8. She and her husband, Jonathan, have found a resort lodge on the shores of Bear Lake in the northeast corner of Utah where we can all kick back, relax, and enjoy one another.

We will spend most of a week in the company of people we love. Since we'll be on the borders of two other states, we plan to visit caves in southern Idaho and a fossil dig in western Wyoming.

That's in addition to a day on the lake, family game night, a kids' talent show, posing for family pictures, and a variety of other silly, fun, share-the-love activities. This year I'm packing bubbles and beach toys for the little kids, puzzles for the slightly older ones, and a variety of nonsense photos to play 'Remember This?' with the teens and grown-ups.

The future of AylaPalooza will also be on the agenda. As the next generation grows up, will they want to take turns hosting? Will we recycle the hosting sequence we've run through once already? We will have plenty to talk about. Then, as we drive away at AP's end, my husband and I can look at one another and say, "We started all this!"

Past AylaPaloozas have seen us gathered on the shores of Lake Almanor in northern California and on the shores of the great Pacific in Baja. We've gathered in mid-summer and once, at Thanksgiving. The planning takes up plenty of time and there's expense involved for everyone, but the moment AP8 is over, we'll be planning for AP9. It's worth it. There's nothing like family.

Susan Aylworth is the author of 18 published novels. Her latest is SUNNY'S SUMMER, a romance set in the Sierra foothills near her northern California home in the aftermath of the devastating #CampFire. She lives with her husband of 49 years, Roger. She loves to hear from readers. Find her at www.susanaylworth.com, @SusanAylworth, susan.aylworth.author@gmail.com, or facebook.com/Susan.Aylworth.Author. Also on Pinterest and Instagram.

Father's Day Joys and Sorrows

Another Father's Day has come and gone. For me, this one brought both joy and sorrow. For the joy: What's not to love about a houseful of eager grandchildren, accompanied by a pair of sons who are excellent fathers and their wives who are wonderful moms? For the sorrow: I can't help missing my own dad, a kind, loving man who left us in 2012. Both emotions were plentiful this year.

Only two days before the Big Day, I got a text from a daughter-in-law: "May we join you for Father's Day?" By the following day, it was a party: Our two youngest sons and their families, including eight children age nine and younger, were all coming to our house for the big celebration. I had bought a rack of ribs for the slow cooker and planned a simple meal. With the locusts about to descend, I picked up a second rack of ribs, planned more food, and asked both daughters-in-law to load up. 

We ended up with more than we could possibly eat. Two full sets of Kansas City Rub pork ribs, slow-cooked all day, were enough to go around. Then the dil's added baked beans, cheesy potatoes in another slow cooker, green salad, and three desserts. I brought out a pan of fresh yeast rolls and several bottles of homemade jam. We ate. And ate. And ate some more. At the end of all that eating, we got out the dessert, complete with five different containers of ice cream (everyone brought some) to add to the peach cobbler, fresh cherry pie, and apple crisp the kids brought along.

Little people played games in the yard and tested one another on Grandpa's new exercise machine, terrorized the cat until he hid for his life, and alternated between wild laughter and hysterical sobbing--rather expected among those five and younger. Grown-ups talked business, child rearing, weather, food and more food, and eventually took a short tour of one son's new office building, soon to be completed here in town.

In short, it was a joyous family occasion. If my dad had been here, it might have been perfect. Dad loved nothing better than getting the family together. He adored little people and was especially good with babies. The craziness when they all started crying and accusing one another of being unfair would have bothered him (it bothered me!), but he'd have been the first to step up to soothe Evie's bumped knee or coo soothing songs to baby Ian. 

I loved having the gang together. I liked seeing my husband in the midst of his progeny, honored by those who love him. I missed my father. It's the kind of Father's Day I am learning to enjoy. I expect to have many more of them in years to come.

2011 Top Ten

How do we make sense of the years? News outlets are famous for their lists of important events. Although I suspect that doesn't begin to touch what a specific year may mean to us, I'm willing to offer up my list of the top ten events of 2011 for my own family:

• 1. Top of the top has to be the birth of a new grandson. Welcome, Vaughn Arthur Aylworth, born September 12, 2011.

• 2. Right up there behind Vaughn comes AylaPalooza IV. This biannual reunion has become a family tradition and treasure. This year we had extra family, but among our children, kids-in-law and grandkids, the only one missing was Austin, our oldest grandchild, who is serving a full-time mission in Chile. He's exempt because of his circumstance. Everyone else was there and we had a wonderful time.

• 3. Next for me is birthdays -- lots of birthdays for the wonderful people we enjoyed at AP IV. You all know who you are!

• 4. This was the year when I joined LDS Storymakers, attended the national conference, and became more involved with my writing than I've been in a while.

• 5. I also joined ANWA (American Night Writers; long story), attended their national conference, and got involved there as well.

• 6. Through very little fault of my own, I got elected to the Board of Directors of LDS Storymakers, and I've met some wonderful people who both inspire and help my writing.

• 7. I finished the manuscript for A SECRET FAMILY RECIPE, got it to my editors at Covenant, and had it approved for publication -- sometime in 2013.

• 8. Although I already mentioned birthdays, one stands out: I got to see my dad celebrate his 89th. This means he has outlived both his parents and all his older siblings, and he was there to enjoy my kids and grandkids at AylaPalooza, celebrating with us. You go, Dad!

• 9. I made the decision to write about Lorenzo di Medici, sketched out the basic plot for a story, and have spent the year doing online and book research. Next March I will go to Florence to do more in-person research. So cool!

• 10. Tied for tenth are a number of smaller items: little trips away with my honey, visits to see grandbabies, seeing friends' books do well in the market, watching my sweet old dog show affection to my sweet little granddaughter . . . I've a thousand such moments, all precious.

To everyone who made this year a little more special, to all of you who follow my ramblings, to all who read my books, THANK YOU. This has been quite a year -- and the next one can only be better.

Post-Apocalyptic Reflections

Okay, so it wasn't the Apocalypse, but AylaPalooza IV was a major undertaking for us, and now that it's over, we are all picking up the pieces, resuming our everyday lives, and looking forward to AP V, two years from now.

Two features of the reunion ritual happened on the weekend as we were winding down. One, the family pictures, is always a major operation, somewhat like trying to organize and outfit the Sixth Army. (Trust me; I know. Years ago I was a GS2 clerk typist for a post engineer's outfit in the Sixth Army. I've seen what it takes to outfit that bunch, and the two are surprisingly similar. Honest.)

In the past, we've hired professional photographers to come to wherever we were gathering. Yet in the final analysis, it was usually the pictures we shot of each other using our own digital cameras that ended up going onto people's Facebook pages, Christmas cards, and walls. This year we're bringing our own cameras and asking a neighbor who lives near our host to please come shoot the whole group. We think it's going to work just fine.

Another feature of getting our family together is singing. When the kids were little, getting them to harmonize was sometimes the only option I had to keep them from killing each other. They grew up singing together and loving it. Once, on a memorable trip into Mexico, the brothers entertained groups of non-English speakers by singing Weird Al's "One More Minute." Since it had a lovely tune, and they pulled it off with perfectly straight faces, the crowds thought they were hearing an American love song. We all declined to translate the words.

Two years ago we prepared a musical number that we performed together in church. This year we did a different number and we sang in church again. It's one thing we all love doing and, since most of the kids, in-laws and grandkids are quite musical, other people enjoy it, too.

So the pictures are taken, the pies are eaten, the songs are sung, the home movies shown, and we're all going back to our everyday lives. We're also getting the mental wheels turning, planning and preparing for two years from now when we'll try to one up ourselves with better games, better food, better songs, competitions, and fun. I, for one, can hardly wait.

My Gratitude Journal: Mornings After

Today I'm thankful for Thanksgiving leftovers and especially leftover pie. I always know when it's the day after Thanksgiving, or maybe the day after Christmas, because I get to sit down to a slice of pie for breakfast -- the only time in the year I allow myself that privilege.

Since we'll have enough turkey to feed a small army at this year's feast (and it's a good thing, given we will have a small army there to eat it), we will probably also have curried turkey over rice -- our usual day-after dinner.

There will be turkey sandwiches and more sweet pickles than we see the whole rest of the year (my sister says they're a Communist plot, and my daughter pretty much agrees), and then there will be more pie for dessert.

AylaPalooza IV is well underway now and we're into it: enjoying each other, enjoying the food, enjoying watching the little ones play together to carry the family camaraderie into a new generation. We're feeling blessed and lucky and glad to be together, and we're enjoying the post-holiday naps that come with over-indulgence in carbs and turkey.

Here's to holidays, families, and delightful mornings after. May you enjoy yours as well.

All About Thanksgiving

For most of the time I've had this blog, I've been pretty faithful at sticking to my original five-day plan. Not now. For the rest of November, I'm going to write random thoughts about things that interest me, bother me, or just tweak my imagination. It should be an interesting ride.

Let me tell you all about Thanksgiving as my former students used to explain it to me. In 1492 that Spaniard named Columbus sailed across the ocean, landed at Plymouth Rock, and invited all the Indians to dinner. They all got together, ate turkey and pumpkin pie, sang a few choruses of kumbaya, smoked a peace pipe and went happily on their way.

I won't go into how it horrified me to get this version of history from the future grade-school teachers in my teaching-the-teachers classes. Suffice to say that I tried to keep my cool while pointing out that Columbus wasn't Spanish, he arrived in the Caribbean -- not in what became New England, he landed there a generation or so before the Pilgrims even contemplated coming over, and the whole peaceful Thanksgiving mythology was a short break in the history of antagonism between the settled native peoples and the settling English.

But that's all really beside my point. This year as we gather for Thanksgiving in the middle of our biannual reunion known as AylaPalooza, I'm more thankful than ever to Columbus or the Pilgrims or whoever we feel like thanking for giving us this holiday.

For the Aylworths and associated relatives, the holiday is all about the pie, and this year's holiday is all about being together -- and eating pie.

Son Adam is hosting the Thanksgiving meal and he plans to cook about 80 pounds of turkeys in a variety of ways, but he is assigning out the other items on the holiday table to all the other folks who are coming, and every nuclear family is to bring two pies. When I do the math, I think we're going to have about 20 pies to share among the 52 of us -- and we'll probably bake more during the weekend.

So folks, wherever you are today, however you are enjoying your Thanksgiving holiday and whoever you're with, have some pie and think of us. We'll be thinking of -- and thanking -- you, Columbus, and all those other guys.

Wecome, AP IV

For most of the time I've had this blog, I've been pretty faithful at sticking to my original five-day plan. Not now. For the rest of November, I'm going to write random thoughts about things that interest me, bother me, or just tweak my imagination. It should be an interesting ride.

AylaPalooza IV, the biannual family reunion that our whole family discusses, plans, argues over, prepares for and then binges on, begins today. We can hardly wait.

A few things have become staples of our AylaPaloozas. For instance, every one has its own theme and its own t-shirt. (See Monday's column for why I'm afraid of "Be Afraid.") We take turns cooking and cleaning up, and some events replicate from one AylaPalooza to the next.

Still this year has a few entries we have not seen before. For one, this AylaPalooza is hosting the first-ever "Aylapa-Biggest-Looza" competition. At the start of this year, one son challenged the rest of us to see who could be in the best physical condition by reunion time.

Originally intended to pit the brothers against one another, the "Biggest-Looza" competition gathered in almost everybody as sister, sisters-in-law, parents and even kids got involved. I've done just great -- I think I haven't gained more than two or three pounds -- but some have been very serious about their fitness.

For example, daughter-in-law Stephanie has lost 62 pounds, taken up a couple of active sports, and is probably in the best shape of her adulthood. Daughter Rebecca has run a Ragnar Relay within the past year and recently completed a half-marathon in under two hours. Thus the Biggest-Looza competition has served a worthy purpose.

There will be another new feature, as organizer Jared plans to pull family members out of one activity or another throughout the week to videotape scenes from a movie he is planning. He will cut it all together and show the video at the end of the reunion. We can hardly wait!

Of course Thanksgiving is a centerpiece of this holiday, and we won't forget it, either, plus there will be time out for the 49er game -- an old, old family tradition -- whenever it is shown in our neck of the woods.

Whether the activities are old, new or something in between, I'll be lovin' 'em all. Any time I can put my arms around that many of the earth's best people all in a single day is a very good time indeed.

Not a Coincidence

For most of the time I've had this blog, I've been pretty faithful at sticking to my original five-day plan. Not now. For the rest of November, I'm going to write random thoughts about things that interest me, bother me, or just tweak my imagination. It should be an interesting ride.

It is not a coincidence that AylaPalooza IV coincides with Thanksgiving Week. (Get that? Coincidence coincides? I should be a writer or something!) No, not a coincidence at all. With 52 family members attending this year's gathering and ten of them age six and under, with another eight or so in the upper grades, we have to work around school schedules as well as work times. Choosing a popular holiday week gives us a shot at getting everyone together.

The timing does have its problems. For one, Thanksgiving Week is among the most expensive times of the year to travel. Want an expensive plane ticket? Decide to fly during Thanksgiving Week. For another, the weather can be iffy -- especially over the mountain passes that lie between our northern California home and our AP IV location in St. George, Utah.

Still this will be cooler than the 112 degrees the "Dixie" part of Utah often sees in the summer, and less expensive than the Caribbean cruise we talked about doing with the family. So it's a done deal; we're doing this!

So the planning and discussing are all behind us now and it's all over but the shouting -- and the hugging, and the laughing, and the eating, and the fun.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody! Happy AP IV to the family I love.

AylaPalooza: Be Afraid!

For most of the time I've had this blog, I've been pretty faithful at sticking to my original five-day plan. Not now. For the rest of November, I'm going to write random thoughts about things that interest me, bother me, or just tweak my imagination. It should be an interesting ride.

Just about the time this blog appears, I will be organizing my loved ones around me for the fourth-ever Aylworth Family Reunion. We call them AylaPaloozas and they happen every other year. Since the first one was in 2005, this installment will be AylaPalooza IV.

Son Jared is responsible for this one, and Jared, being the unusual person he is, has chosen a slogan that makes sense to all of us who know him. Since we're meeting in the Red Rock territory of southern Utah, the theme is Red Rock Revolution. Then comes the sub-title, a popular Jaredite phrase: "Be afraid."

All of us who know Jared know the sub-text for this phrase and we know there is no reason why anyone should feel afraid. Other people don't know that.

So here we are, planning the largest reunion we've ever had -- huge in that I ordered 52 t-shirts for attendees. The shirts are a lovely dark red color with the AP IV logo on the front. Then, on the back, is the slogan: "Red Rock Revolution: Be Afraid."

If 52 of us go out in these t-shirts around St. George, are we going to start a riot? Will people call the FBI to come surround our compound and check for weapons?

I'm not afraid of the Aylworths. We bluster and bluff, but we're pretty much pussycats when it comes down to it. The FBI, on the other hand, is something to fear. Maybe I'll suggest we be cautious about where we wear those t-shirts.

Strong Women

First let me send out a shout to my first exposure to strong-but-sensitive men: Happy Birthday, Dad!

Now let's have a look at strong female characters. I heard (haven't been able to confirm) of an interview with Joss Whedon, the producer, director, writer, actor , composer, etc. who has contributed greatly to American pop culture. (Think Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly...) Supposedly the interview went like this:

Q: Why do you write such strong female characters?

A: Because people keep asking that question.

I think that about settles the matter. In my case, I write strong female characters because I've always been surrounded by strong women and because I've tried to be one myself.

My female ancestors crossed plains in wagons, raised large families alone after being widowed, argued for female suffrage, and generally stirred things up. There is evening a somewhat apochryphal tale of a great-grandmother who found a bobcat on her kitchen counter and strangled it to death with her apron strings in defense of her sleeping baby. Wow.

I also write women because, being one, I see better through a woman's eyes, and I make them strong women because women can be heroes too, and often have been throughout world history.

For purposes of my plots, the women don't have to be physically strong. They, like my strong male characters, are willing to do what they fear in the defense of what they believe is right, challenge established belief, and pioneer defend the weak and helpless around them.

A few strong fictional women are currently inhabiting my head. I welcome them.

My Gratitude Journal: Pirate

As I write, my sweet old dog is sitting at my feet. Pirate is 12 or 13 years old. We don't exactly know since she was a throw-away. Some unworthy soul dumped her at a crossroads in the country near Butte College. When a much kinder soul rescued her but couldn't keep her, Pirate came into our lives.

That was 10 1/2 years ago. She arrived as a half-starved, terrified, abused and bedraggled mutt -- fearful of everyone, but especially large men, and we had seven of them. Still, despite the obvious problems, she grew on us.

We brought her into our homee and she climbed immediately to the top of the couch -- a definite no-no, but it was the high ground for an abused creature who feared for her life. Within a couple of hours, our three-year-old grandson awoke crying. I picked him up and carried him to the couch, rocking and comforting him. The dog climbed down from her perch, leaned into Tanis and me, and took a defensive position between us and my husband. This taught us quite a bit about the kind of home she must have come from.

My husband declared the dog confused, since she obviously assumed he was the source of the tears, but said that any dog who would overcome her own fear to protect his wife and grandson was worth an investment of time and energy. I agreed.

It took days to begin to break into Pirate's protective space and weeks to get her used to the men in our family, but she quickly adopted me as her person. For more than ten years now, she has followed me everywhere I go. If I get up from the computer to get a drink of water, she follows me to the kitchen. If I'm cooking, she sits on a rug nearby. I'm I sit down to read, she is at my feet. She is the most single-mindedly devoted fan I will ever have.

I once saw a bumper sticker that read, "My goal in life: To become as good a person as my dog thinks I am." If only I can!

Thanks, Pirate, for all the joy you've brought to my life. May your days be long and happy.

Embracing Abundance

When I want to embrace abundance, all I have to do is put out my arms to take in my family. Not only are they all wonderful people, but there are a great many of them.

I started as the oldest of five siblings. Then I married and bore seven children. My sibs were having children too, and the numbers began to multiply. During a particular period in the middle 1980s, my sister and brothers all had sons within 14 months, including a set of twins. All this begins to explain why I live in California, but have been in Utah for every odd-numbered month of this year.

January was a visit to see my parents, now in their later 80s, who left California for Utah when all my married siblings did. March brought the wedding of nephew Stephen. In May I traveled for a writers' conference. The trip in July was for the wedding of nephew Sean and September brought the wedding of Doug, one of the twins.

I plan to return in November, this time to the St. George area, for a family reunion. That makes six trips this year.

Don is still unmarried and Stephen has a younger brother -- not even counting the two teenaged nieces, so who knows how many trips the next year may bring?

All this travel has its up side. There is joy in seeing our family grow and my nephews have all married darling girls who bring talents, skills and beauty with them. The down side has to do with the mileage on the car, not to mention the wear-and-tear on my body, which just keeps getting older.

There’s also the fact that when I’m traveling every other month to Utah, it’s difficult to go much of anywhere else, a detail my family has noticed. Though I do have one son in Utah, I also have kids and grandkids in California, Oregon, Washington, Oklahoma and Georgia, and they are beginning to agitate for more of my travel time.

For now I’m putting the unmarried nephews and teenaged nieces on notice that Aunt Susan loves you all, but is getting tired of the scenery across northern Nevada.

Still there are babies coming and graduations pending and a new generation getting old enough to think about marriage. Who knows where I may be going within the coming years? It’s all about embracing the abundance I call my family.

Knowing the End From the Beginning

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Business guru Stephen Covey, in his famous book THE SEVEN HABITS OF HIGHLY EFFECTIVE PEOPLE, encourages folks to imagine what people will say about them at their funerals. When you've thought of all the great observations you hope others will make about you once you're gone, then you can think of ways to become that great person everyone wants to eulogize.

It's a bit macabre, perhaps, to talk about death, and yet it is, as the poet says "the blight man was born for." (That's Gerard Manley Hopkins, if you care to look it up.) None of us gets a pass.

That said, I've had reason to think quite a bit about death lately. In the period of about six days, three men we knew well all passed on and a fourth had a health crisis that will take him from us soon. On the morning we buried one friend, I made note of some of the things people said about him.

For starts, there were several hundred people there; the chapel where the family held the service was full. I thought of the "no services" message I've seen in so many newspaper death notices and knew I'd hope to have a full building, just as Ralph did.

Four or five rows at the front were reserved for his family and eleven members of his family took part on the program, in addition to eleven more who served as pallbearers. I bore and raised a batch of children. I hope when my time comes there will be many close loved ones to see me off and to carry me there, just as there were for him.

People spoke of his loyalty, his humor, his warmth and love. They laughed about funny things he'd done and cried only about missing him. It's a sobering thing to think about the world going on without us in it. I can only hope that one day -- far, FAR into the future -- I will do as well as Ralph has done.