anagram

FIST UNIT METHOD
FIR STUNTED DITCH
I SIT HOT
SUN TORCH
RED MIST
RUNT DOC
I SEE THIS
UNDO IT
I RUN METH
FUN TEETH

Today we had fun strategically prying the letters off of the FIRST UNITED METHODIST CHURCH sign. Quite a few cars slowed down to read the ever changing name, especially when it was the METH CHURCH for a minute or two. I really hope those people don't show up for services on Sunday.

my lucky day

When the numbers and the days of the week align just right and Friday the 13th appears on the calendar, many people experience a feeling of dread. There is even a word for that specific fear: paraskavedekatriaphobia.


But is there a word for people like me who actually LIKE that day?

Known as someone with an unusual knack for bad luck, one would think that I would be justified to stay in bed on such an ill-fated day–with the covers pulled up over my head until the safe light of Saturday peeked through the windows. But for some reason, I am drawn to the day–almost like a personal anniversary of sorts.

Back in my college years, I was in a terrible car accident on Friday the thirteenth. My little red Toyota Camry was struck nearly head-0n when a rusty work truck did a U-Turn on the highway. Of course the collision causing truck was not licensed, and the illegal alien driver was not insured. My car was held captive in the auto body shop for the entire semester, being re-injured twice while waiting patiently for its restoration–a shop worker drove the bumperless car into a telephone pole on the repair lot, and then a few weeks later the windshield was smashed. I sported a rather unattractive neck brace for much longer than fall fashion would allow; and of course, this was all during the semester I decided to live quite a distance from campus.

Sometimes the unexpected can be devastating. Which is why, I suppose, I kind of like Friday the thirteenth. Now, I don't get me wrong–I don't tempt fate by walking under ladders while petting a black cat or anything like that. It's just a day I don't have to look over my shoulder for the storm clouds rolling in, or an anvil falling from above...I just kind of expect it. So the pressure is off, and my anxiety can take a holiday.

floored

MONEY PIT
A few more floors,
windows and doors,
lighting and landscaping–
In money, time,
and patience,
it's the bottom of the barrel
I'm scraping.

The Jefferson Inn is coming along...I hope I look this good when I am 100 years old.

sanctuary

After being located on the corner of 26th and Jefferson for 85 years, The First United Methodist Church of Ogden officially has a new home. The congregation moved over the weekend to their new facility in Marriott/Slaterville. Now the work REALLY begins. I am afraid that the 8,000 sq foot mansion house was only practice when compared to the 25,000 sq ft sanctuary that now lies ahead of me. The old building feels a little empty, but still has a lot of soul. The message "We love you Church" was left behind on a classroom chalkboard. I'll try to keep the love alive...I just hope it's reciprocal.

where the sidewalk ends and begins again

Where the Sidewalk Ends
by Shel Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

In addition to repairing the crumbly stairs (which had to be approved by the Landmarks Commission) and replacing the uneven concrete approach to 2604 Jefferson Avenue, this week I created a new sidewalk, where there never was one before. While it only connects the front yard to where the courtyard gardens will be, I felt a little like a trailblazer–defining the path that people will walk sometime in the future.

Yes, I suppose it could have run diagonally through the yard to make the jaunt a little more efficient, but instead, the sidewalk was designed to take a little turn just for fun. Creating this new walkway made me think a little bit about how Heavenly Father makes connections. Pressing forward on my mortal journey, experience has taught me that rarely is it a straight line that gets me from here to there. Sometimes there are twists and turns, causing me to slow down and consciously consider if I am walking in the right way. Even though I can see in the distance where it is I want to go, I have to patiently follow the prescribed path. Nevertheless, I trust that He purposefully, skillfully, designed my course and although His "ways" are not my "ways", I know the truth and light of The Way will lead me back home.

and we have sod

Sassy, grassy, no trespassy...













Did you know that Home Depot does not carry "NO TRESSPASSING" signs in Spanish? Now there's a million dollar idea for an espanol entrepreneur.

ten things

Life is busy. Stuff happens. Computers crash, pipes leak, meetings go long and when trying to communicate with painters high school Spanish skills only go so far. I guess what I am trying to say is that unlike a lot of superbloggers, I can only handle one day at a time...if that fast. In an attempt to catch up on my online journal, the list below contains ten things (some top, some bottom) of the past few weeks.

10. Tax extension
9. KUED teleprompting
8. Utah Heritage Foundation
7. Appliances, appliances, appliances
6. Landmark distinctions
5. Blueprints
4. Paint and repaint
3. Ogden Landmarks Commission
2. Sod
1. General Conference