Diane informed me she is finally a citizen of the 21st century - she has broadband internet. I'm sure she'll miss the dial up, though. Long waits, tied up phone line, three day down load time for songs. She might even be able to add stuff to this blog.
Welcome.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Home repair
I took the Cory, Michael and Rick to Mom's house yesterday to work around the house. Michael and Rick had a good time cutting, hacking and trimming the bushes on the East side of the rumpus room. You can actually walk by them to Diane's house without the huge detour.
Cory, meanwhile, fixed the lights in the family room and the doorbell. His work was more cerebral, but he also had to climb through the atic to pull a wire from the switch box to the light box in the family room. I'm sure glad he is young and willing to do that. It doesn't sound like fun to me.
Kent
Cory, meanwhile, fixed the lights in the family room and the doorbell. His work was more cerebral, but he also had to climb through the atic to pull a wire from the switch box to the light box in the family room. I'm sure glad he is young and willing to do that. It doesn't sound like fun to me.
Kent
Kent's talk at Dad's Funeral
Who is the man whose life we have to remember and honor today? Dal Hatch is a husband, a brother, a father and grandfather, a friend, a youth leader, a World War II veteran, a neighbor are just some of the titles by which we know him. In life you come to know a person is in a number of ways. With some through direct dialogue, others through writings. Still others through hearing their remarks. Dad was a quite man who wasn’t quick to express his thoughts. Conversations may have been few and perhaps short, books were never authored, and was not one to stand on his soapbox and express his thoughts.
So how did one come to know Dahl Hatch? To know the man you had to work beside him. My guess is that each one of you had at least one if not several opportunities work with Dad on a service project. I’m willing to bet he arrived before you, and stayed longer than you. I’ll bet you can remember taking a break only to find Dad still digging ditches, hammering nails or pushing a wheel barrow. He was generous with his time, always willing to help.
As you worked with him you came to know him. During this time with him, you were certain to hear his simple words of wisdom. Otherwise known as Dahlisms in our family. He spent a lifetime collecting quotes. He has several small binders in which he as recorded these thoughts. They are not in any particular order, but in his mind and in his practice he has arranged them, sorted them, and was able to find one for just about every occasion. These quotes open a window into his life. His sharp wit and humor and wisdom are expressed in these words. When I was a teenager I wrote down many of these in my own binder and have added to it periodically. Let me share a few of these. I’m sure these will resonate with each of you today.
On Work
Opportunity is always dressed in work clothes
To kill time, try working it to death
Nothing is really work unless you would rather be doing something else.
Some people are like blisters – they don’t show up until the work is done.
If you can’t do great things, do small things in a great way.
Some people make it happen, some people watch it happen, and some people say what happened.
Most people wish to serve God – but in an advisory capacity only.
On Family and relations
The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.
The formula for a successful marriage – you make a little money first, then you make a little money last.
You can tell more about a person by what he says about other people than what they say about him.
On Life
Common sense is not so common.
Good judgment comes from experience, and that comes from poor judgment.
The truth shall make ye free, but first it will make ye miserable.
If 50 million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.
Facts don’t cease to exist because we choose to ignore them.
If you stand for nothing, you will fall for nothing.
On the Spoken Word
Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something.
Blessed are those who have nothing to say and cannot be persuaded to do so.
Some people get lost in thought because it is unfamiliar territory.
Maybe death and taxes are inevitable, but death doesn’t get worse each time congress meets.
Quite people aren’t the only ones who don’t say much.
Why should I fear death? If I am, death is not. If death is, I am not. So why should I fear that which cannot exist when I do?
All of the most beautiful influences are quite; only the destructive agencies, the stormy winds, the heavy rains are noisy. Love of the deepest sort is wordless; the sun shine steals down silently; the dew falls noiselessly; and the communion of spirit with spirit is calmer than anything else in the world, quiet as the spontaneous turning of the sunflower to the sun when heavy clouds have passed away, and the light and warmth reveal themselves. Ada Baylo
They say a man's home is his castle. To dad it was life’s joy which brought daily challenges. His garage was command central. To untrained eye the garage full of stuff – a mess really. He has a workbench with 30 drawers underneath. He knew exactly what was in each drawer. I was at the home recently and need to find an extension cord. Even having spent little time in his garage in the last 30 years, I could remember exactly which drawer to open. He trained me well. He was a handyman extraordinaire. He could fix anything. No project was beyond his reach. Each room in the house could tell many stories. He even helped in the homes of his children. He installed overhead lighting all the houses in which I’ve lived. In the first house, I remember he cut a hole in the ceiling and then muttered something like “I hope we get a wire to up there”. Christine was horrified. I know he would find a way.
Dad was generous with his time and talents. I’d like to see a by a show of hands who here was a recipient of Dad’s service. All those who at one time had Dad come to their house and repair something. Dad let his actions tell his life’s story. Be ye. doers of the wordDad was a doer. For this I am thankful.
So how did one come to know Dahl Hatch? To know the man you had to work beside him. My guess is that each one of you had at least one if not several opportunities work with Dad on a service project. I’m willing to bet he arrived before you, and stayed longer than you. I’ll bet you can remember taking a break only to find Dad still digging ditches, hammering nails or pushing a wheel barrow. He was generous with his time, always willing to help.
As you worked with him you came to know him. During this time with him, you were certain to hear his simple words of wisdom. Otherwise known as Dahlisms in our family. He spent a lifetime collecting quotes. He has several small binders in which he as recorded these thoughts. They are not in any particular order, but in his mind and in his practice he has arranged them, sorted them, and was able to find one for just about every occasion. These quotes open a window into his life. His sharp wit and humor and wisdom are expressed in these words. When I was a teenager I wrote down many of these in my own binder and have added to it periodically. Let me share a few of these. I’m sure these will resonate with each of you today.
On Work
Opportunity is always dressed in work clothes
To kill time, try working it to death
Nothing is really work unless you would rather be doing something else.
Some people are like blisters – they don’t show up until the work is done.
If you can’t do great things, do small things in a great way.
Some people make it happen, some people watch it happen, and some people say what happened.
Most people wish to serve God – but in an advisory capacity only.
On Family and relations
The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.
The formula for a successful marriage – you make a little money first, then you make a little money last.
You can tell more about a person by what he says about other people than what they say about him.
On Life
Common sense is not so common.
Good judgment comes from experience, and that comes from poor judgment.
The truth shall make ye free, but first it will make ye miserable.
If 50 million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.
Facts don’t cease to exist because we choose to ignore them.
If you stand for nothing, you will fall for nothing.
On the Spoken Word
Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something.
Blessed are those who have nothing to say and cannot be persuaded to do so.
Some people get lost in thought because it is unfamiliar territory.
Maybe death and taxes are inevitable, but death doesn’t get worse each time congress meets.
Quite people aren’t the only ones who don’t say much.
Why should I fear death? If I am, death is not. If death is, I am not. So why should I fear that which cannot exist when I do?
All of the most beautiful influences are quite; only the destructive agencies, the stormy winds, the heavy rains are noisy. Love of the deepest sort is wordless; the sun shine steals down silently; the dew falls noiselessly; and the communion of spirit with spirit is calmer than anything else in the world, quiet as the spontaneous turning of the sunflower to the sun when heavy clouds have passed away, and the light and warmth reveal themselves. Ada Baylo
They say a man's home is his castle. To dad it was life’s joy which brought daily challenges. His garage was command central. To untrained eye the garage full of stuff – a mess really. He has a workbench with 30 drawers underneath. He knew exactly what was in each drawer. I was at the home recently and need to find an extension cord. Even having spent little time in his garage in the last 30 years, I could remember exactly which drawer to open. He trained me well. He was a handyman extraordinaire. He could fix anything. No project was beyond his reach. Each room in the house could tell many stories. He even helped in the homes of his children. He installed overhead lighting all the houses in which I’ve lived. In the first house, I remember he cut a hole in the ceiling and then muttered something like “I hope we get a wire to up there”. Christine was horrified. I know he would find a way.
Dad was generous with his time and talents. I’d like to see a by a show of hands who here was a recipient of Dad’s service. All those who at one time had Dad come to their house and repair something. Dad let his actions tell his life’s story. Be ye. doers of the wordDad was a doer. For this I am thankful.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Memories of Dad
Family memories of Dad
Dad was not a talker, he was a doer. After he hugged mom when he returned from work, she would tell him what had broken that day in our already 30 year old house, and he would head out to the garage to rummage up the right part and figure out how to make whatever “it” was keep working past the normal life span.
He loved to build and create things. He put lights in the bedrooms in of all our first homes (and second, and third, etc.) He loved working with wood in the garage with his power tools. He built furniture – desks, dressers, closets. I remember when I was in high school and needed to come up with a science project. He had been reading about Hydroponics where plants are grown without dirt. The roots dangle in water that is filled with nutrients. We remodeled our swing set as a green house and went to work. Long after I had completed my report and had lost interest in the project, he continued to grow plants with the hydroponics method. He also decided to experiment with an automatic chlorine maker for the pool. This led to copper in the pool which turned all blond heads into green heads. It also greenized his gray hair from time to time while he was taking his nightly swims. When he wanted to be warmer in the winter he decided to start making quilts (he had his own sewing machine) because he was cold and wanted thicker insulation on his – we all ended up making quilts for college on his machine with his help. He would set up the machine next to the ping pong table so he would have room to spread the big quilt out.
Shelley’s Memory: “One year I went to Education Week with Mom while Dad stayed at my house with my 5 kids for 5 days (ages 4- 11). I left a list of projects to do if he happened to have the time and inclination. When we pulled up at the house at the end of the week he was standing there with his suitcase, said good-bye, jumped in the car with Mom and drove off. I'm not sure how things went while I was gone, but the kids were alive and every project on the list was completed.”
Dad didn’t see the need for new clothes when the old ones could still fit. Since adults don’t grow out of their clothes, he saw no need for new clothes. Mom had other ideas about dressing her man though. She would take his outfits that she felt had paid their debt to society and hide them in the closet out in the pool house. Then if he missed them within three weeks, she would tell him that it was in the laundry and replace it back into his closet. If not, it would go to the DI. If she wanted him to have something really nice like a new suit, she would get the kids to contribute a pittance so that she could say that it was from us. That way he would feel guilty if he didn’t keep it and wear it.
We owned some older apartments once, and when I was 15 I spent a day helping him paint. I was covered with paint by the end of the day while he barely had a speck on him. He mused how a person could get more paint on their person than on the walls. On the way home he announced that I should drive. I had never been behind the wheel, but not to worry because he was a high school driving instructor. On my maiden trip, he made me drive on the freeway. I was a nervous wreck! When we got home he told me to pull the full sized station wagon into the garage. Somehow I managed to hit the side of the garage. Mom was mad at Dad for letting me drive like that on my first time. Dad didn’t say a word though. He simply got out, found his hammer, some nails, and put it back together.
Hiking and Camping:
The summer before my freshman year in high school we hiked up Mt Whitney with the Willmores and some friends. I thought I was going to die, it was so far. It was so cold at night that my contacts froze in their solution. but we had a great time following our dads up the mountain. He loved to hike and would take us up San Grogonio, and I remember hikes in Arizona and Southern Utah.
At the center of vacation memories was always the blue Ford van which he turned into a sleeping RV, with a hammock across the front two seats for Kent and Rex, and seats that he jimmy rigged to lay down flat for he and Mom and a plywood bunk bed over the top of them which was suspended on poles for all three girls to sleep on. Mom would call out “Don’t rock the boat” every time any one rolled over. Dad also changed the fuel tanks so that the van had an extra one for propane. He could change the fuel from regular gas to propane depending on if propane (the cheaper fuel) was available. When Mom complained about summer trips to Arizona without air conditioning, he added an air conditioner (which only reached the front seats!). As a consequence of the remodeling the van revolted at times and was often breaking down. Once we were on our way to visit relatives in Arizona when it kept overheating. It was still near 100 degrees in the middle of the moonless night and we would pull over and all get out to stand in cactus while it cooled down. Another time it broke down in Death Valley while we were vacationing again with relatives (Sherwoods and Simons). This time we squeezed 10 people into a Sedan for our trip back, leaving the van at a shop there.
Dad had 2 weeks off every summer and we saw much of the western United States and Canada on family vacations during these times. Dad loved to camp, so we rarely stayed in hotels. He loved to cook over campfires – I believe the most creative dinner was hotdogs wrapped in corn tortillas cooked over the open fire.
As adults, we hiked down the Grand Canyon together to reach our river rafting adventure. I remembered that he carried my back pack at the end, and returned to carry others. While floating down the Colorado River he kept reminding all of us to look up and see the beauty of the canyon walls.
Russ’s Memories:
“My best memories with Dahl are hikes that we took. I remember when we were rushing through the Zion's Narrows hike to make sure everyone made it through the canyon before it got dark. We stopped by a side canyon to eat lunch and then hiked another hour downstream before Dahl remembered leaving his camera at the side canyon. Dahl and I sent the others on ahead to stay on schedule and then hiked back to where we ate lunch. After retrieving the camera, we turned around and raced back down the canyon toward the others in the group. Hiking fast on any trail is tough, but Zion's Narrows with its deep cold water and slippery rocks is not meant to be rushed. We actually caught up to the rest of the group before they finished the hike (and with plenty of daylight to spare). Shelley still gives me a hard time about having rushed the hike too fast. I was very sore the next morning and ready to enjoy sleeping in, but Dahl got me up at the crack of dawn and insisted on hiking up Angel's Landing. In order to maintain my manhood and the illusion that I could keep up with my father-in-law on even the toughest hikes, I rolled out of my sleeping bag and climbed up Wally's Wiggles to the top of Angel's Landing. I always wondered where Dahl got the strength and energy to out hike men who were 30 years his junior! It must have been all that training in the Army!”
"After our famous Hike down the narrows we stopped for a much needed rest at the lodge. Russ and Dad were in the main area and Dad turned to go into the bathroom. Russ said, "Dahl, that is the Girls' Room," Dad nodded, smiled, waved his hand and proceeded to walk in anyway. Russ just stood there and waited. Dahl was back pretty quickly and sheepishly said, "Why didn't you tell me that was the girls' room?" Russ responded, "I did!" Of course he had not heard the helpful advice.”
Food was not to be wasted. He had grown up in the depression with 11 children and money always tight, so he knew the value of growing a garden and having fruit trees. He replaced most ornamental trees and shrubs with things that we could eat: oranges, guavas, cumquats, lemons, peaches, apricots, plums, and figs. He couldn’t bear to see anything wasted and would pick up fruit that looked a bit gone from the ground while the trees were yet loaded and enough to spare. We were all recipients of dried fruit and fruit leather. I thought he was crazy when he started drying oranges, but since then I have seen it take off in the retail world – who knew?
Dad was not a TV watcher when we were growing up, but he did read the newspaper daily and wasn’t bashful about writing the editor if he disagreed with the articles. He didn’t want to be part of the teacher’s union because they often supported causes that he did not ratify. He taught in the Compton School District which is in an area with many gangs. He witnessed murders at his school and once got beat up. Once he was so frustrated at his math class that he taught Shelley and I basic algebra while we were in grade school and then gave us his high school test. When we both passed, he felt justified in flunking most of his class.
He always tried to stay fit, eating sparingly and exercising. He would say, “If you don’t watch your waistline, no one else will either” and “The end doesn’t always justify the jeans." In warmer weather he had a nightly swim (we teased him about his white “moon tan”) and was good for a walk with Mom. I remember when I was little and sometimes couldn’t sleep; he would get me up and make me do pushups, evidently convinced that I hadn’t work hard enough to be tired. Like the rest of the Hatch’s he suffered from arthritis, but he stretched and exercised every day to abate the effects of the troublesome condition. He was always a strong, healthy, tough guy that would hug you so hard your eyes would about pop out. I knew he was slowing down when mom said he didn’t walk to take walks with her any more.
I always knew my dad was clean and worthy and that he had a testimony of the gospel and the atonement. Walking home from church when I was an early teenager, a little Yorkshire dog barked angrily as we crossed the sidewalk on his property. He was loud and obnoxious, but we weren't afraid of the tiny thing. Dad told me that opposition in life was like that, and that opposition to do the right thing would make a lot of noise, but that I shouldn't let that deter me from choosing the right. He was always a good example to his family in the way that he honored his priesthood.
On my last visit he bemoaned that his lack of hearing had held him back from truly being part of everyone’s lives. He said that he could handle not hearing or seeing, but he really missed not breathing. Dad got it wrong – he was very much a part of everyone’s life! It was apropos though that he hung on until Thanksgiving, which is our traditional time for family reunion, thus creating two reunions: one with his parents, siblings, and extended relatives on the other side and one with the many relatives that have gathered on this side. He would have wanted it that way!
Traci (Funeral address Nov. 2008)
Dad was not a talker, he was a doer. After he hugged mom when he returned from work, she would tell him what had broken that day in our already 30 year old house, and he would head out to the garage to rummage up the right part and figure out how to make whatever “it” was keep working past the normal life span.
He loved to build and create things. He put lights in the bedrooms in of all our first homes (and second, and third, etc.) He loved working with wood in the garage with his power tools. He built furniture – desks, dressers, closets. I remember when I was in high school and needed to come up with a science project. He had been reading about Hydroponics where plants are grown without dirt. The roots dangle in water that is filled with nutrients. We remodeled our swing set as a green house and went to work. Long after I had completed my report and had lost interest in the project, he continued to grow plants with the hydroponics method. He also decided to experiment with an automatic chlorine maker for the pool. This led to copper in the pool which turned all blond heads into green heads. It also greenized his gray hair from time to time while he was taking his nightly swims. When he wanted to be warmer in the winter he decided to start making quilts (he had his own sewing machine) because he was cold and wanted thicker insulation on his – we all ended up making quilts for college on his machine with his help. He would set up the machine next to the ping pong table so he would have room to spread the big quilt out.
Shelley’s Memory: “One year I went to Education Week with Mom while Dad stayed at my house with my 5 kids for 5 days (ages 4- 11). I left a list of projects to do if he happened to have the time and inclination. When we pulled up at the house at the end of the week he was standing there with his suitcase, said good-bye, jumped in the car with Mom and drove off. I'm not sure how things went while I was gone, but the kids were alive and every project on the list was completed.”
Dad didn’t see the need for new clothes when the old ones could still fit. Since adults don’t grow out of their clothes, he saw no need for new clothes. Mom had other ideas about dressing her man though. She would take his outfits that she felt had paid their debt to society and hide them in the closet out in the pool house. Then if he missed them within three weeks, she would tell him that it was in the laundry and replace it back into his closet. If not, it would go to the DI. If she wanted him to have something really nice like a new suit, she would get the kids to contribute a pittance so that she could say that it was from us. That way he would feel guilty if he didn’t keep it and wear it.
We owned some older apartments once, and when I was 15 I spent a day helping him paint. I was covered with paint by the end of the day while he barely had a speck on him. He mused how a person could get more paint on their person than on the walls. On the way home he announced that I should drive. I had never been behind the wheel, but not to worry because he was a high school driving instructor. On my maiden trip, he made me drive on the freeway. I was a nervous wreck! When we got home he told me to pull the full sized station wagon into the garage. Somehow I managed to hit the side of the garage. Mom was mad at Dad for letting me drive like that on my first time. Dad didn’t say a word though. He simply got out, found his hammer, some nails, and put it back together.
Hiking and Camping:
The summer before my freshman year in high school we hiked up Mt Whitney with the Willmores and some friends. I thought I was going to die, it was so far. It was so cold at night that my contacts froze in their solution. but we had a great time following our dads up the mountain. He loved to hike and would take us up San Grogonio, and I remember hikes in Arizona and Southern Utah.
At the center of vacation memories was always the blue Ford van which he turned into a sleeping RV, with a hammock across the front two seats for Kent and Rex, and seats that he jimmy rigged to lay down flat for he and Mom and a plywood bunk bed over the top of them which was suspended on poles for all three girls to sleep on. Mom would call out “Don’t rock the boat” every time any one rolled over. Dad also changed the fuel tanks so that the van had an extra one for propane. He could change the fuel from regular gas to propane depending on if propane (the cheaper fuel) was available. When Mom complained about summer trips to Arizona without air conditioning, he added an air conditioner (which only reached the front seats!). As a consequence of the remodeling the van revolted at times and was often breaking down. Once we were on our way to visit relatives in Arizona when it kept overheating. It was still near 100 degrees in the middle of the moonless night and we would pull over and all get out to stand in cactus while it cooled down. Another time it broke down in Death Valley while we were vacationing again with relatives (Sherwoods and Simons). This time we squeezed 10 people into a Sedan for our trip back, leaving the van at a shop there.
Dad had 2 weeks off every summer and we saw much of the western United States and Canada on family vacations during these times. Dad loved to camp, so we rarely stayed in hotels. He loved to cook over campfires – I believe the most creative dinner was hotdogs wrapped in corn tortillas cooked over the open fire.
As adults, we hiked down the Grand Canyon together to reach our river rafting adventure. I remembered that he carried my back pack at the end, and returned to carry others. While floating down the Colorado River he kept reminding all of us to look up and see the beauty of the canyon walls.
Russ’s Memories:
“My best memories with Dahl are hikes that we took. I remember when we were rushing through the Zion's Narrows hike to make sure everyone made it through the canyon before it got dark. We stopped by a side canyon to eat lunch and then hiked another hour downstream before Dahl remembered leaving his camera at the side canyon. Dahl and I sent the others on ahead to stay on schedule and then hiked back to where we ate lunch. After retrieving the camera, we turned around and raced back down the canyon toward the others in the group. Hiking fast on any trail is tough, but Zion's Narrows with its deep cold water and slippery rocks is not meant to be rushed. We actually caught up to the rest of the group before they finished the hike (and with plenty of daylight to spare). Shelley still gives me a hard time about having rushed the hike too fast. I was very sore the next morning and ready to enjoy sleeping in, but Dahl got me up at the crack of dawn and insisted on hiking up Angel's Landing. In order to maintain my manhood and the illusion that I could keep up with my father-in-law on even the toughest hikes, I rolled out of my sleeping bag and climbed up Wally's Wiggles to the top of Angel's Landing. I always wondered where Dahl got the strength and energy to out hike men who were 30 years his junior! It must have been all that training in the Army!”
"After our famous Hike down the narrows we stopped for a much needed rest at the lodge. Russ and Dad were in the main area and Dad turned to go into the bathroom. Russ said, "Dahl, that is the Girls' Room," Dad nodded, smiled, waved his hand and proceeded to walk in anyway. Russ just stood there and waited. Dahl was back pretty quickly and sheepishly said, "Why didn't you tell me that was the girls' room?" Russ responded, "I did!" Of course he had not heard the helpful advice.”
Food was not to be wasted. He had grown up in the depression with 11 children and money always tight, so he knew the value of growing a garden and having fruit trees. He replaced most ornamental trees and shrubs with things that we could eat: oranges, guavas, cumquats, lemons, peaches, apricots, plums, and figs. He couldn’t bear to see anything wasted and would pick up fruit that looked a bit gone from the ground while the trees were yet loaded and enough to spare. We were all recipients of dried fruit and fruit leather. I thought he was crazy when he started drying oranges, but since then I have seen it take off in the retail world – who knew?
Dad was not a TV watcher when we were growing up, but he did read the newspaper daily and wasn’t bashful about writing the editor if he disagreed with the articles. He didn’t want to be part of the teacher’s union because they often supported causes that he did not ratify. He taught in the Compton School District which is in an area with many gangs. He witnessed murders at his school and once got beat up. Once he was so frustrated at his math class that he taught Shelley and I basic algebra while we were in grade school and then gave us his high school test. When we both passed, he felt justified in flunking most of his class.
He always tried to stay fit, eating sparingly and exercising. He would say, “If you don’t watch your waistline, no one else will either” and “The end doesn’t always justify the jeans." In warmer weather he had a nightly swim (we teased him about his white “moon tan”) and was good for a walk with Mom. I remember when I was little and sometimes couldn’t sleep; he would get me up and make me do pushups, evidently convinced that I hadn’t work hard enough to be tired. Like the rest of the Hatch’s he suffered from arthritis, but he stretched and exercised every day to abate the effects of the troublesome condition. He was always a strong, healthy, tough guy that would hug you so hard your eyes would about pop out. I knew he was slowing down when mom said he didn’t walk to take walks with her any more.
I always knew my dad was clean and worthy and that he had a testimony of the gospel and the atonement. Walking home from church when I was an early teenager, a little Yorkshire dog barked angrily as we crossed the sidewalk on his property. He was loud and obnoxious, but we weren't afraid of the tiny thing. Dad told me that opposition in life was like that, and that opposition to do the right thing would make a lot of noise, but that I shouldn't let that deter me from choosing the right. He was always a good example to his family in the way that he honored his priesthood.
On my last visit he bemoaned that his lack of hearing had held him back from truly being part of everyone’s lives. He said that he could handle not hearing or seeing, but he really missed not breathing. Dad got it wrong – he was very much a part of everyone’s life! It was apropos though that he hung on until Thanksgiving, which is our traditional time for family reunion, thus creating two reunions: one with his parents, siblings, and extended relatives on the other side and one with the many relatives that have gathered on this side. He would have wanted it that way!
Traci (Funeral address Nov. 2008)
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Dahlism
Our family's favorite Dahlism:"Beauty fades, but stupid is forever"
That's why he married Grandma, best of both worlds.
Steed Vegas Vacation
Click on the picture for better detail
We drove to Las Vegas for Christmas last month and had a great time with our families! We got to see everyone and even stayed with Jesse in Dallas a few days. You'll have to go to Jesse's and my sites for the rest of the pics and stories but here's some highlights pictured above: Rascal sleeping with whatever child need him most, Las Vegas temple for anniversary, holding new Baby Hunter, Santa's Christmas visit, "storm the fort" with Jesse's gang, gingerbread house with Nana, stories with Nana, commando Weston, cute hats Nana made the boys, kids sleeping in the car, and tea party.
Rodeo Clowns
Would you believe me if I tried to convice you that our kids have joined the rodeo circuit and become wild bronco riders? After all, they are Texans, right? They don't start the little kids out on pigs or sheep here like at the Oakley Rodeo... its all or nothing.
Don't worry, David survived the fall. He's used to it by now.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Dahlism
Dahlism:
"The heights by great men reached and kept,
Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they, while their companions slept,
Were toiling upward in the night."
-H.W. Longfellow-
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