20 June, 2013

Sarah's new new digs

9th South, just above 13th East, Salt Lake City, Utah




A good person

Sarah got an unfinished chair and a porcelain vase for her birthday.

An hour later she sent back this happy picture.























Raw material from the folks.  Brightening, flowering, sweetening, all from Sarah.

From the archives: baby number three, born June 20, 1993


Saturday, June 19, 1993: Today was lovely.  The whole family went to work, where Sharon and I gave the office a long overdue cleaning.  We went back to Springville and went swimming.  Well, we swam, while Sharon sat and watched.  Drew was tense, as she usually is these days.  She didn’t wanting to be carried, and then she didn’t want to be left alone.  Caitlin was prodigious.  Cheerful and obedient all the way through, she was a marvel of self-assurance and strength.  
 
Sarah, actually

After a sunny dinner I strolled over to the stake centre for the evening session of stake conference.  This was very nice.  New Q. o’ Seventy member D. Todd Christofferson talked about not being so hard on ourselves, while the actual Neal Maxwell gave a stirring address about God’s power and the faith that it justifies in us.  I lingered a while, thinking about what everyone said, then walked slowly home.  

The kids were still up, now subdued and anticipating and affectionate.  They hugged, kissed, cuddled and then quietly dropped off.  It was dark and warm out.  Sharon’s contractions, which had been taking practice runs for a couple of days anyway, now began in earnest.  Should we go in now?  


Sharon stalked back and forth, withdrawing within herself.  I sat in the den and read, while keeping an ear on what was going on out there.  The pains started to come harder and faster, but they were irregular still.  At midnight we put on DeMille’s The Sign of the Cross; what Sharon wanted now was some distraction while she waited for things to kick in.  She watched, and groaned, and snoozed.  By the time the film ended the contractions were still five to seven minutes apart.  But having nothing else to do, and wanting to devote all of our thoughts and attentions to the job at hand, we decided to go to the hospital.  After calling LaRae Roberts to come over for the kids, we did so.  It was 2:30 AM.

Sunday, June 20: We had an expectant drive through what suddenly felt like and adventurous night.  We reached the hospital just before 3 o’clock.  I got Sharon signed in.  It was sure nice to know that we had insurance that would pay for everything.  That other, anxious looking couple over there didn’t have the same good fortune. 


When I got back upstairs, Sharon was all hooked up.  Four cms.  We had a very nice extroverted nurse, and another sort of slow, sullen one.  Our doctor was over at Utah Valley delivering someone else.  We were feeling well attended though, and figured that we had plenty of time. 

Sharon decided on the epidural.  I did too, I guess.  At the first poke Sharon went light headed, and her ears started ringing.  The doctor pulled out, tried again, and got the same result.  That epidural never did take, though the doctor continued to hang around with a strange look on his face.  We later learned that his palpable concern came from having made an error, and from the symptoms that followed, and from the fact that they can mean an impending cardiac arrest.


So we are glad that didn’t happen.  He did fully bill the insurance company though.  

At 3:30 Sharon was at six cm.  At 4:00, just after the arrival of our nice doctor, she was at nine, and then opened all the way up to ten.  This delivery room was spacious and well appointed, quite comfortable and not too brightly lit.  Blissfully unaware of these epidural dangers, we turned ourselves to the task at hand.  Everything and everyone was in place.  It was time to push.  And so the athlete did so: once, twice, a third time and then, at 4:18, our new daughter was born.

At various times in previous months I thought I’d heard Sharon use gendered pronouns that hinted at a different outcome.  So this was a bit of a surprise.  A thought flashed ever so briefly through my mind.  “Another girl?”  And at that I also felt a stab of emotion.  Another girl!  Here was a happy culmination of a very happy few months in our home, and our marriage.  Everyone was safe.  There was solemnity at this new hint of the mystery and divinity and eternity of things.  

Hey!  I feel lightheaded.  I went out, and then came back.  Our purple-faced little baby was crying, just a little.  That placenta was reluctant.  Also, stitching.  I took the baby down to the nursery.  She weighed in at six pounds, fifteen ounces.  I held her for quite a little bit.  Then I went back to Sharon’s room.  There we spoke warmly and at length.  Sharon called her folks.  We were waiting for the baby, who kept not coming.  There’d been a big highway accident, and they’d needed everyone to pitch in. 

Finally, a little after six AM they brought in the tiny wrapped creature.  We watched and admired, and began to address the fact that we didn’t know what to name her.  Sharon hadn’t cared for Mary, and I wasn’t so comfortable with Annie.  We parted without having settled the problem.  The morning was bright and new.  I had an exhilarating ride back.  The kids weren’t awake yet.  I shook Caitlin gently.  “Is she out?”” she asked, with great enthusiasm, when I told her about our new baby.  Through the morning I phoned and phoned.  The kids were happy and excited.  So was I. 

I talked to (sisters) Lisa and Sharon junior, and, most movingly, Susan.  We talked a good long time.  We prepared to ring off.  “Oh, you’ll love having three girls.  And I love you.”  There were other delightful exchanges, full of the attention and authentic interest that I guess we crave, no matter how old we get. 

We all went back to the hospital.  Baby was sleeping, then eating.  The kids clambered and climbed, full of tender interest.  Half delightful.  Half really annoying.  Sharon was ready to come home.  I tried to encourage her to relax a little, but she was too anxious to savour the release from her body’s long captivity to sit any longer, and she knows her body best. 

More to the point, we were getting anxious because we still didn’t know what to call this kid.  It’s revealing to me how important a name is if you want to get to know, to get close to a person.  I took the girls home.  We all had a nap.  I sent them to the neighbours’, then went back to spring the others.  It took a while.  We turned back onto our street at 7:30 PM.  Our kindly, friendly, overly neighbours were all waiting for us on the driveway and along the sidewalk.  They cheered, and we ran the gauntlet.  

Caitlin was really happy about this new arrival.  Drew went ape.  She ran around for quite some time, amusingly inconsolable at the presence of this usurper.  We got her settled down eventually.  Later we slept warmly and happily, with baby snorting alongside us all night. 

Monday, June 21: Caitlin’s birthday, of course, and the first day of summer term as well.  More importantly, it was time to pick a name, if we didn’t want a ton of paperwork and an abstraction of a child on our hands.  So, a compromise: Sarah Anne.  Two plain and honest names, both from beloved ancestors.  Sarah took her first bath there in the kitchen sink.  She cried lustily.  Tender hearted Caitlin, seeing her new sister’s distress, wept.  I’m sure, in her heart of hearts, that Drew felt similarly…  

16 June, 2013

From the archive: Matt's good talk

Sunday, Nov. 25, 2012: Boy, Matt gave a good talk in church today.  We collaborated a bit, because sometimes if you don’t “collaborate” things don’t get done.  Maybe this is a record of a conversation, and I think it’s a lovely one.  In fact, it resulted in some real insight, and increase.  I don’t think I really knew the difference between priesthood keys and the plain priesthood before.  Now that we see it, it’s almost easy, and very significant.  There’s the organization, and then there’s your home and family.  Lead out!  So glad that Matt and I learned this together.


PRIESTHOOD KEYS

Good morning, Brothers and Sisters.  My name is Matt Duncan. Brother Johnson came and visited us last week.  When my brother answered it and said who it was, I rolled my eyes and said, ‘Oh great, a talk for me.’  Then he told me the topic, which is the keys of the priesthood.  I hadn’t prepared the talk yet, and there are things I’ve learned since then.  But even at the time I realized that rolling my eyes wasn’t a very good priesthood response.  So it’s good I got this assignment.  I’m also very glad I got this topic because I’ll probably be serving in the Teacher’s Quorum Presidency.  I should probably learn some things, so I can be more effective. 


I think I’d heard this before, but this week I read again that Teacher’s Quorum President holds Priesthood keys, along with the Bishop, the Deacon’s Quorum President, and the Elder’s Quorum President.  Those are the only people in the ward.  That’s interesting.

When we have the priesthood and we’re worthy we can act in God’s name, and do his work. You are allowed to exercise power in the name of Jesus Christ. This means giving blessings, and doing your callings. It means service, too, but you don’t have to have the priesthood to do that. This was a question I had as I was looking things up. What is the difference between priesthood and plain service? Where do the keys come in? It’s a bit confusing.

After some research, I think that these things are right.  Church callings come from the people with the keys.  My Mom works closely with the Bishop, and she said that he has to approve pretty well all the callings in the ward.  This is not because he’s bossy.  It’s because he has the Keys.  The Priesthood Keys are a bit different from the priesthood.  They mean that you are authorized to be in charge, to supervise, to make things happen.  It’s like a real key.  If you don’t have it, and turn it, you can’t get in.


President Monson, or whoever is the prophet, holds all of the Priesthood Keys and is in charge of what the church does and doesn’t do.  He can also give certain keys to other authorities in the church.  That’s how the stake president gets them.  He passes them on to the Bishop, and the Bishop to those other people I mentioned.

The Aaronic Priesthood, which holds the keys to the ministering of angels, was restored to Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery on May 15, 1829.  A few weeks later, the Melchizedek priesthood was given to Joseph and Olvier, this time by Peter, James and John.

Rubens, The Meeting of Abraham and Melchizedek, 1626
I don’t have keys, but I have the priesthood.  Am I doing a good job?  What job should I be doing?  We counted up some things.  Recently, my dad and I helped a woman in our ward with a few things.  You don’t need to have priesthood keys to do service, but it’s a priesthood holder’s duty to help those who are in need.  Another example of not needing the priesthood keys or even the priesthood for service is that our neighbours the Taylors let us use their house for Thanksgiving Dinner.  Yesterday, my immediate family and cousins were in the gym playing volleyball and there were some kids who were looking pretty bored, so I played with them.  Also, my Mom was able to get food orders for several people.  And, next week, it’s fast Sunday, we’re coming to your houses to collect fast offerings.  Sorry to remind you.

There are several times I’ve been helped by the priesthood.  Not necessarily by the keys, but by the priesthood nonetheless.  The first example was my baptism.  I was baptized by my dad, who has the priesthood.  Then I was given the gift of the Holy Ghost.  Then, I was ordained a deacon, once again, by my dad.  Then, I was ordained a teacher by my dad.

I’ve really enjoyed giving this talk, because, as I mentioned before, I’m going to be in the Teacher’s Quorum presidency.  Bear testimony, close …

15 June, 2013

The dominant culture
















Claire and Joely make a video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dOum-F-ONA8

(Echoes: Sharon's daughter! Drew's and Spencer's sister!)

B-day

Notes from recent days in the life of Matt Duncan, who is a good guy, and who turns 15 today.  (Each entry from 2013). 


Saturday, Jan. 5: We have a really nice evening.  It was all spent around that fireplace, and all the cold world outside.  Matt sure was mad, mind you.  He proclaimed this bad mood, told his mother to be quiet, brow’d thunderously all over the place, and yet still participated in every little devotional moment, each conversation, and the Catchphrase game that we played.  I liked that.

http://abouthomemovies.org/2011/09/13/matts-mad-3/ 

Monday, Jan. 7: Matt is trying to figure out how to meet his various obligations these days.  He’s got conflicts between choir and swimming, and band, a bit.  He’s also on this demo team, not to mention his church calling.  The grades are, shall we say, erratic.  He keeps doing the things he’s always done!  And yet, notice that these extra-curriculars are all the result of successful auditions, or exclusive invitations.  Matt thinks about this.  I am smart, he says.  And talented, we add, very sincerely.  (So shape up!)


Wednesday, Jan 9: Matt has a swim meet.  After some good successes, he adds two seconds to one of his events.  Which is 50 metres long.  That takes some doing, or maybe some not doing. 

Sunday, Jan. 27: Spence and Matt and I go home teaching together.  Matt gives us a nice prayer, and we have a great visit with former neighbour/new charge Merritt Fullmer.  Next, we go to our friends the Taylors.  What a great experience!  Spence gave a message derived from last week’s priesthood lesson, and then Matt shared a very particular, personal thought about faith.  (Naaman, and how sometimes you don’t actually agree with the thing that’s required of you, and how the infidel often shows up the initiated).  We’d previously talked about the whats and whys of home teaching, and then the actual experience lived up to the hype. 

Also, my front car door is suddenly frozen.  I can’t open it from the inside, or the outside.  Priesthood duty, automotive disaster.  Correlation?   


Friday, Feb. 22: Matt earns his purple belt.  That was fun to participate in.  Sharon correctly points out that these things resemble the longeurs of a swim meet.  True, but here you can more easily key on some of the little dramas that underpin or exceed the actual testing.  I still don’t like the militaristic/corporate components of this sub-culture.  But did you see those kids finally break through those boards, and how rejoiced every one was as a result?  

Matt says he forgot a lot of the steps for that presentation of his.  We notice that as a sparring partner, he kind of runs away.  I’m glad to see that, frankly.  This is obviously not cowardice or anything.  He doesn’t want to hurt anybody!  And did he ever tag that one girl that he didn’t want to hurt!  















  
As mentioned, some of the youngsters had some trouble with those boards.  Matt?  Boom!

http://abouthomemovies.org/2012/09/14/strong-man-matt/ 

Saturday, March 2: I take Matt to another rehearsal, and get some more information out of him.  He didn’t call us last night because he figured we’d just tell him to come home.  He didn’t want to come home, so he didn’t call us.  First degree, as in pre-meditated, disobedience.  Also, I can see his point.

http://abouthomemovies.org/2012/02/13/matt-busted/

Sunday, March 17: Home teaching.  I like doing that.  Matt expresses his feelings about us, which aren’t positive.  This is difficult.  He’s not very compliant these days, and it needs addressing.  He’s not doing anything too terribly wrong, so it doesn’t need overdoing.  Of course he’s feeling that way.  Of course we’re behaving this way.  Make it through!


Sunday, April 7: I tried to get the kids to walk around the ward boundaries a bit.  Spencer was the only one who would come.  Like I was saying.  Richard Lifferth stopped us to remark upon Matt’s performance during their recent hiking adventure.  He said he was kind of unrecognizable.  Being good with and to youngsters is nothing new for Matt, and in that he was more of the same.  But what about getting to camp, promptly setting up his own tent, and the kids’, and getting on that stove and making his own meals, and sort of, at least partly cleaning up after himself?  Richard said that he was independent, reliable, sensible and unfailingly positive.  How cool!  It doesn’t escape me that the variable here is our own absence.  I don’t know that that is necessarily unusual, though, or unhealthy.  What we want is that they can do it, and especially without us.  I guess, I hope we work out some of the other complications or unsynchronizations as we go.  


Thursday, April 11: On our way to Caitlin’s house.  What a nice drive.  We’re not used to such close-by destinations.  It makes a difference.  Matt and Claire were in the back the whole time.  They didn’t make a peep, but this wasn’t for old-days good-kid reasons.  They just had their buds in the whole time.  I asked Matt how much of what he was listening to was fibrous or fruity, or whether it was good for him.  He didn’t answer, except with his face.


Tuesday, April 23: The boys have basketball for Mutual.  Matt doesn’t like basketball.  He stayed though, more or less, and was cheerful.  Afterwards he sat over there in the same room with us, enjoying a book.  A little later he cheerfully wishes us a good night, and then goes to bed.  Later I go down to check on him.  That room that we’ve been telling him to clean since last Saturday—or was it the Saturday before—is still courageously uncleaned.

 http://abouthomemovies.org/2011/09/06/spilled-juice-2/

Sunday, May 19: Bro. Steve Paulsen attends our ward and talks about patriarchal blessings.  Very timely for Mr. Matt.  I have a sneaking that he was mostly thinking about Dr. Who at the time.  

 http://abouthomemovies.org/2011/12/01/swenson-jungle-2/

Friday, May 24: Matt, unbeknownst, or maybe unauthorized, invited ten of his buddies over for a bonfire and a movie.  I’d like this kind of thing better if I had a bone of it in my body.  Even so, I can see the point.  And I can overlook the impulsive, not-quite organized nature.  They’re learning how things work.  Or not—there’s poor Matt, like Charlie Chaplin in The Gold Rush, waiting by himself as the minutes tick by and nobody keeps not showing up.  


Then he had a nice little consolation, or actual post-party party.  How did it all begin?  Madeline Taylor, tapping on that back window, wondering what was going on?  Christopher and Madeline and Sena came over, and they all went out and started that fire up, and then burned all of the year’s school work in it.  What the heck?!  Spence came out, and Claire, eventually, and Sharon and I too.  There was a bright, distant full moon.  There was an undercurrent of pagan ritual, dark and mysterious.  There were all of these kids who really have known each other for a really long time, chatting and giggling and just quietly sitting together.  How cool!      


Saturday, June 1: Claire and I went over to the Arts Park for that talent show.  Fun!  Young people mostly, ardent and touchingly unguarded, mostly.  You could criticize, or critique, rather.  You could get a lot out of, teach a lot as a result of that approach.  Or, as tonight, you could just clap for the various people that, presentable or not, put themselves on the line. 

Joely came over to sit with us.  Claire liked that.  They exchanged facial expressions, looked around, whispered a bit, behaved very well.  Mum and Spence came later.  We found them, sitting over there by the Maughans.  The Omega bunch was helping out with stage crew stuff.  Toward the end they introduced them all.  Thirty people over there gave a big cheer when they announced Matt’s name.  Gratifying!  A vague, niggling concern for parents!  


  
When it was almost over the demo team came on to perform.  This is what they’ve been practicing for.  It’s a certain kind of theatre, isn’t it?  Matt had a chain solo.  Started well.  Missed a step there.  He’ll be learning to mask that kind of thing a little better.  The climactic moment was that Matt held a board way up high, and that kid leapt and kicked and smashed it.  Except that that kid missed.  There was a beat, and then with a really nice combination of self-deprecation and confidence, Matt smashed it himself, held it up, and smiled, shruggingly.  Roar!  Lovely.

Here's that:

11 June, 2013

Springville's annual Art City Days parade

Matt, demonstrating, and then doing his duty:

















The happy effects of a slightly compressed lens:

















The kinds of things that go on in the kind of town we live in:



























This doesn't seem quite wholesome...














Claire and Joely have a brush with celebrity:














Shot with a cell phone!




































Moved (but not really)

















Goin' back:



















06 June, 2013

Havasupai, May 28-31, 2013

The gang, comprised of Sharon, Spencer, Matt, Claire, and dozens of miscellaneous neighbours, congregation-mates, and total strangers, went a-recreating.

In:

















 Down:




















There:


















People:













 






























































 Something was going on here:




















Views:
























































Out:




 

And finally, a filmed account, by Eric Lifferth:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HRWSsI-inc0&feature=youtu.be