So inspired!

From "A Disciple's Life: The Biography of Neal A. Maxwell"

"Neal also decided he wanted to understand and practice empathy . . . he wanted to become more fully aware of other people's feelings. He told one interviewer . . . 'I don't know that empathy is natural to us . . . I have to work at it. I have to make sure that, in my task orientation to get things done, I do not forget the feelings of people.'"

 "When he first began working at the university, he was so focused on his own tasks that he sometimes didn't listen fully to the answers other people gave to his own questions. Oscar McConkie found that as time went on, Neal was much 'more likely to listen to your response and not be thinking about what he's going to say next.' Part of this skill came as Neal learned to believe, 'more than he used to, that the other guy may have something worth listening to.'"

"In earlier days, Oscar had noticed that Neal 'didn't suffer fools gladly.' As time went on, however, Neal 'just buried it,' simply choosing to avoid clever sarcasm or criticism by suppressing it."

"So Neal's 'talents in ministering with sympathy and empathy to people is a learned [skill]. The more he did it, the better he got at it.'"

"Related to his interest in empathy was Neal's conscious choice to take a positive view of human nature in dealing with other people. He had learned, both with students and with those he supervised, that people do better when they're valued than when they're scolded. 'I have found,' he told a BYU audience, 'that it is better to trust and sometimes be disappointed than to be forever mistrusting and be right occasionally.'"
----
I am so much the earnest person that when I read these pages all about empathy I, well, re-re-read them. And want to tell it from the rooftop! Can you hear?! This is good stuff! (I think so.)

There,

I've announced to myself since.  

Can't we all 

be like 

this?

• Wanting to become more fully aware of other people's feelings
• Working at it
• Not forgetting
• Really listening and not thinking what to say next
• Believing the other guy has something worth listening to
• Burying clever sarcasm or criticism
• Letting this be a learned skill
• Taking the positive view in dealing with people
• Trusting and sometimes being disappointed rather than always mistrusting and occasionally being right

Elder Maxwell thought he could



and I would like to try.

WhAt is the PresNt DAd?

A little birthday party for Dan yesterday. 29 on the 29th. In Idaho Kent's dad turns 96. Happy Birthday to you both!

Not just your mother's pumpkin pie

You know how when you make a pumpkin pie from scratch - and I'm not talking scratching out the hairy pulp of a Halloween pumpkin, nah, nah nah - and you end up with a little more mix than you need? Mighty tempting it always is to pour that last bit from the mixing bowl right into the pie shell - overflow it almost - but I know better. It's a messy pie if you do. So it has to go in the fridge in a little Rubbermaid thing because you could lick the mixing bowl clean but it really is a lot more than a couple of swipes with a spatula . . . and you hate it to go down the drain it's so good.

My favorite-favorite thing! Because then I can bake a little sump'n-sump'n that's double-delicious.

A couple of years ago I poured leftover pumpkin pie mix into applesauce cake batter in place of some of the applesauce - you've gotta adjust the spices and leave out a smidgen of sugar from the recipe, but oh my! Here's the recipe I used - go for it!

APPLESAUCE CAKE

Gale Gand – Sweet Dreams, Food Network

½ cup unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups brown sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 1/4 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
2 cups applesauce
½ cup raisins
1 cup chopped walnuts
Powdered sugar, optional

Preheat oven to 350N

In a mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, cream the butter. Add the brown sugar and continue mixing. Add the eggs, 1 at a time, and vanilla, then mix until well blended and fluffy. In a separate bowl, sift together the dry ingredients. Add to the creamed mixture alternately with the applesauce. Fold in the raisins and walnuts. Pour batter into a greased and floured loaf or tube pan and bake until firm to the touch, about 40 to 45 minutes. Let cool in the pan, then turn it out, and dust with powdered sugar.

-----
And just two days ago I Googled "pumpkin banana bread." I had to because I came home from mom and dad's with two black bananas in my purse. Ew. And found a good recipe so I set to. In place of the 1 1/3 cup of pumpkin puree I spooned in the pumpkin pie mix. Too bad I promised Kent I'd make him a couple of pumpkin tarts - as if the entire pie he polished off last week day by day wasn't enough. When he left for Idaho Thursday, the leftover went into this:

PUMPKIN BANANA BREAD

allrecipes.com

2 ripe bananas, mashed

2 eggs

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1 1/3 cups canned pumpkin puree

1/2 cup honey

1/2 cup white sugar

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

3/4 cup raisins (optional)

1/2 cup walnut pieces (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease an 9x5 inch loaf pan. In a large bowl, stir together the mashed banana, eggs, oil, pumpkin, honey and sugar. Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, pie spice and cinnamon, stir into the banana mixture until just combined. Fold in the raisins and walnuts if desired. Pour batter into the prepared pan. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 45 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the loaf comes out clean. Cool loaf in the pan for 10 minutes before moving to a wire rack to cool completely.
-----
I forgot to take a picture of it when it came out of the oven, but Scott was over - he can attest to how good it smelled and looked and tasted. Butter, and a smear of raspberry jam on top. Mmm. I had to throw it in the freezer so I wouldn't eat more. It's on ice. But here's a teaser from the Internet.


-----
And I would definitely put pumpkin pie mix into this recipe. Adjust spices and sugar:

PUMPKIN PEAR WAFFLES

1 cup whole-wheat pastry flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon finely ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground kernel of nutmeg

2 egg whites, beaten till frothy and fluffy (6 TBSP egg product whites)

2 tablespoons brown sugar

1/2 cup pureed pumpkin

1/4 cup finely diced ripe pear (1/4 cup pear puree)

Non-stick cooking spray

Mix the flour, baking powder, ground cinnamon, brown sugar and nutmeg together. Beat the egg whites until frothy and almost stiff. Slowly add the flour mixture into the bowl on the electric mixer and fold in. Fold in the pumpkin puree and pear. Batter will be thick. Thin with yogurt if desired.

Heat waffle - spray if manufacturer suggests. Add a spoonful of batter to the center of the waffle iron and if needed, with a spatula smooth almost to the edges. Batter is thick unless you thin it. The amount can vary depending upon the style and make of your iron, and it is important to read the instructions on the box carefully. Cook for about 3-4 minutes, or till done. Once the waffles stop producing steam, it is a sign that they are already done.

The batter will make about 6 waffles. Serve the waffles immediately or leave them in the oven to keep them hot. Very good sprinkled with pecans and served with hot maple syrup.

Outburst in 11th Puts Texas One Win From World Series

It was a game last night wasn't it, sheesh! I've never watched eleven innings in any game don't think - and couldn't stay up for the party last night. It was way past my bedtime. How incredible though watching runs come in in the 8th, 9th, 10th innings. And the winning run I didn't see, but there's gotta be a record there somewhere, I dunno.

Game 7 tonight!

Rock e'm, Rangers.

Change

Sarah left a month ago today and mom and dad's house has been empty that long.



Yesterday a crew was here through the late afternoon cleaning, and I watched sun slant through an upper window and lay down light on the carpet.



The days are short now and brisk, cool air is on us. Such a change from summer! Like spring did here in June - give way to suddenly long full days - summer is giving in to short ones. The sun lays its light down too early for me and I feel, myself



a little empty.

-----

“Every landscape is, as it were, a state of the soul, and whoever penetrates into both is astonished to find how much likeness there is in each detail." -Henri Frederic Amiel

Slow to blog

I am in a blogging slump. I have inspiration but hardly time and energy to write. It makes me a little sad to experience good things and not take time to share for several days.


----
I listened to an hour of the words of Isaiah on the BYU channel yesterday morning for instance, and early today already. Heard about the "soft waters of Shiloah" - a 'condition of sanctuary' - and the "waters of the river" then, "strong and many, even the king of Assyria" which the Lord brings upon the people of Judah as a flood to their necks because they will not look to him. I discovered Isaiah as not only the strong prophet for his times, himself and his children a virtual sign before the people, but a family man. Last night I sat and thought about these things. They come to mind.
----
I took concretes (frozen custard) to mom and dad yesterday after we had lunch with them for Dad's birthday - it made us all happy. We sat awhile with them and Kent and dad talked, identifying things to do for their house this week to get it clean.
----
I heard wonderful words in Sacrament meeting Sunday morning. President David O. McKay was quoted: "True Christianity is love in action." I wrote that down. And this from the LDS hymnbook:

But if, by a still, small voice he calls to paths that I do not know,

I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine: I’ll go where you want me to go.

Doctrine and Covenants 68:6, be of good cheer and do not fear . . . and 2 Timothy 1:7, God hath not given us the spirit of fear. And, God's power is usually exercised in response to faith.
----
I've been busy, so busy yesterday I nearly dropped at bedtime. 'Tis Relief Society in my face this week; it and the regular things. I have to practice when I'm this busy deliberately listening to my insides; they tell me how to behave - in every aspect - if I'll pay attention.

Is it like this for you? Do you listen for what to be careful of when you're busy - because when you're busy buried life can become all about you in the moment and what you have to GET DONE, and relationships (so, you in traffic or lined up in the grocery store; you and your husband; your co-worker; your mother or sister or daughter or grandchild) can really take a back seat. Not always - when I listen carefully to my impulses I hear what I need to to manage well in a busy week. And to manage the loves of my life.

I got a call from Sandra mid-day yesterday and had to text her I'd call her back. I was at mom and dad's. She left a message I listened to at bedtime finally, saying, just checking in. I love ya' Nat. How glad I am! And sad I didn't call after all - like I'm sad I can't write always. It's all good . . . at bedtime I did call Brad to say hi because I've been thinking about him, and listening to him talk while he kept an eye on the World Series and ironed a pair of pants in his hotel room - he's traveling - made me, along with so much else this day, very grateful.

I nearly dropped at bedtime. Kent and I did go to our knees for prayers and boy do I feel thankful for health and strength to do our work and a clear mind and active heart to consider gospel messages, careful ways, right actions and my relationships. I fall sooo regularly short of the mark. Everywhere. Yesterday afternoon for instance I folded two dozen invitations for a RS birthday party and addressed them to be mailed. When I got to the post office with them to inquire about the cost per piece I was shown - my piece was held right up against the measurement chart - that the US Postal Service won't even accept them; they were folded too narrowly. Officially they missed the mark. You know I undid and redid work I had carefully done earlier and have mailed them this morning, but this is just to say . . .

. . . that we do miss the mark often when we are the busiest and trying our best.

I regularly miss the mark of excellence; of kindness; of obedience. I fall short of being deliberate and do account at the end of the day for the things left undone. And can stay in one kind of slump or another a few days, but hello we all do - and I know to be of good cheer! It'll pass. I enjoy blogging when I can - it's up there with reading a great book (or six) and talking with a best friend - it makes me glad. And so does getting things done, making people happy, and going to bed tired at night.

Faithful

I was visiting teaching this darling, adorable sister in the ward yesterday - a girl not quite my age with nine kids acquired through blending families, what else - and we got on the subject of the personality color code. I can't even tell you the name of the book to read to find out what color you are but you know it, I know you do. My visiting teaching companion, a redheaded politician, said she's white, ha!, and that got the three of us discussing in earnest.

RED (Motive: POWER) —These are the power wielders. Power, the ability to move from point A to point B, and get things done is what motivates and drives these people. They bring great gifts of vision and leadership and generally are responsible, decisive, proactive and assertive.

BLUE (Motive: INTIMACY) —These are the do-gooders. Intimacy, connecting, creating quality relationships and having purpose is what motivates and drives these people. They bring great gifts of quality and service and are generally loyal, sincere, and thoughtful.

WHITE (Motive: PEACE)— These are the peacekeepers. Peace, or the absence of conflict, is what motivates and drives these people. They bring great gifts of clarity and tolerance and are generally kind, adaptable, good-listeners.

YELLOW (Motive: FUN)— These are the fun lovers. Fun, or the joy of doing something just for the sake of doing it, is what motivates and drives these people. They bring great gifts of enthusiasm and optimism and are generally charismatic, spontaneous, and sociable.

My white-blue cute friend was overwhelmed at first with her new husband and nine kids. All ages. All attitudes. Her own three she said were a big family . . . it's been years now though. She says mothering and step-mothering is was  hard and has gotten easier as the kids have grown up and married and produced their own children. Now it's, oh, I get you! Just thought I had to hate you there for a while. What was I thinking?
---
I don't ever depend on my blue-yellow personality to impel me through life or excuse me from it when it's overwhelming. Nope. It's no color code conceived by a modern thinker that empowers and/or corrects me. President Thomas S. Monson has said:

We have in our lives the gospel of Jesus Christ, and we know that our conscience is there to guide us and we are responsible for our actions. Our code of conduct is definitive; it is not negotiable. It is found not only in the Ten Commandments but also in the Sermon on the Mount, given to us by the Savior when He walked upon the earth. It is found throughout His teachings. It is found in the words of modern revelation.

My friend is outstanding (I watch her) not only for her personality traits - kind, considerate, patient, accepting, devoid of ego (seriously), steady, ordered, enduring, committed and loyal; why not list them all! - but importantly, and perhaps singularly, for her fidelity to the code of conduct offered by the Savior.


The hands of Christ in a new painting by Jon McNaughton: http://sethadamsmith.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-painting-in-progress.html

Lifted

I didn't get very far in the novel I started two days ago. I borrowed it from Marcia's bookshelf and put it back today. It's this weird space I'm in lately where it's a good read, the book's okay but, eh, I just don't want to. I AM mostly through Daughters in my Kingdom, the History and Work of Relief Society, and can't shake impressions to stay with it as I have reading time. You can't believe how good it makes me feel reading these words - they lift me.

I really recognize the need to be LIFTED daily.
☺

That's what I'm getting at I think.

To regularly get beyond compulsions and cravings or knee-jerk reactions and be choosing, working for happiness. And just daily? Hourly. That doesn't happen naturally no it doesn't, like mud doesn't run uphill. I really recognize this need . . . but labor usually; plod, and draw back even from choosing best in the hour over just okay and good.

But I'm coming along - times like Kent and I had a couple of afternoons ago where we drove into the hills looking at the trees in sunshine . . .



. . . and up close



settle on my spirit with much relief and the hope of change.

-----

Happiness seems to be the result of

*paying attention to how you live and

*making choices that work

That takes practice.

An elderly woman was asked, "Why are you so happy?" 

and she answered, "I learned years ago to choose the 

things in life that I can feel good about and that will last. 

If I hadn't experienced a certain situation before,  I would 

imagine how I would feel after making a choice about it."

She says choose the ones

*that make you feel good about who you are

*that make others feel good

*that you can be proud of, and

*that will last.

Yes please no thanks

I had time to reflect standing in the temple yesterday 

how I love,  

love serving here. 

Now that I know my way around 

and the names and faces of my co-workers, 

it's become a commitment every week

I honestly enjoy.

The temple itself I long for, 

and never more than when 

I'm helping others.

It's work. 

Temple work is work. 

-----

Then I want to be done. 

Can the top of that final hour 

come too soon?!

But this is classic ambivalence!

She loves me, she loves me not,

is what I thought yesterday . . .

'Wonderful to be here, and

I can't wait to get home.'

It's everywhere in

my world

I think . . . For instance,

I'm wild about Kent but often want to be alone. 

I love attending church and dislike getting ready to go. 

I have energy when I exercise, and hate exerting myself.  

 Go figure.

What a light bulb moment to see

this is the nature of things

in Life.

The 

local 

conditions 

for each of us.

My day

I baked a pumpkin pie today.

I also dejunked. All decorative stuff I don't want anymore from like our last three houses. You can see how your tastes change over the years looking into a great bin of things and wondering where to put them. Are you attached to stuff? In me a fine argument flares as I pile up things for the thrift store. Are my old things unwanted? NOT - it's just, I'm practical, and "practical" and "sentimental" aren't shelf mates at this house. Though I usually create a keep-a-while-longer shelf, today I've been firm and, wanted or no, handed off to the DI box all I'm not using.

I visited a new RS sister in the ward and then my own sister, handing off her stuff that's been riding shotgun in my car two weeks. From mom's and dad's house of course. A stockpile that needed to wear a seat belt almost.

I wrote e-mails and answered some and created a RS birthday party invitation in Power Point. I researched online what may be making my computer lock up. The newest version of Norton I think. Hang it all.

I helped Kent move the sectional back four inches this morning, a man-ish job. It's heavy so it takes the two of us and is a real commitment in any spot. Do we like it there now? Kent does, and there's good reason: we've inherited a bigger TV. Measuring its screen he suggested we may want to move the couch clear to the, ugh, back wall so we can sit the proper distance from the TV. (Dan says there's never a television-viewing problem with too Big, just with too little, and that This isn't.) Whatever. Kent was too close for comfort from the chaise part of the sectional where he lounges, says he couldn't even see the whole TV without turning his head, and wished the couch moved back - I thought a foot at least and was aghast, considering he may indeed move it across the room - well, four inches.

But it's too less. Too little to make the big viewing difference, right?

Do not get me wrong. I did not, do not, want the sectional moved across the room and snugged up against the wall. Except for that I want my husband to be happy, I want it, actually, left right where it is. Because . . .

. . . it's going to cut into . . well . . . er . . . we inherited a tree and buffet and two chairs and lamp too and that all got put on the back wall behind the couch. Hardly a couple of weeks ago. AND. IT. LOOKS. GREAT back there! It's a cozy-ish, stylish spot perfectly spaced behind the big couch. Can four inches help Kent, 'cause it's sure cramping my pretty sitting area now. The four inches the couch was moved has truncated my tree in the corner visually four inches; hidden from me (at 5'6") the low chair near the window now; and vanquished from view the ornate buffet-front until you walk right up to it. Shucks and darn. I didn't want to give up an inch of that spatial perfectness. Not an 'nth. And, so no, I'm not about this, looks-wise.

Seeing-wise, it's fine.



I started a new novel today and got into mom's cedar chest at Marcia's house to put mom's wedding dress in two king-size pillow cases to protect it. I loved handling that. I froze the gallon of milk from the fridge in three plastic quart bottles, leaving some for cereal tomorrow; sewed a button on Kent's suit pants and did dishes and drove to DI to offload my stuff; I need to crochet towel toppers for dish towels - my old ones are ratty. But I didn't do that today. I watched a couple of real estate shows on HGTV and was engrossed in "Chopped" on the Food Network when Kent got home from the temple this afternoon - he watched the last of it with me and thus our work-a-day ended.

Kent helped himself to a biggish piece of pie at dinner.

Good eats

My afternoon snack was an apple a bit shriveled from a month in the fridge. I won't say whose. And don't say ew - it was seriously sweet, albeit wrinkly. I always run an apple through my slicer/corer which takes everything you'd have to spit out out and leaves spiral slices. I did this time and enjoyed each bite.

These are the leftovers. No I did not arrange these. They just were. On my plate like this while I was wiping my sticky fingers on a napkin . . . and what a hoot!

A good snack gets rid of the grumpies, right?  Almost.


----
Brady, 2006


Garrett and Dana, 2011

Good life

Denver at daylight.

Mid-day across Wyoming.

Utah canyon late afternoon.

How lucky, how lucky am I to live in this diverse region. I should have a full-time occupation admiring beauty and counting my blessings!

-----

It's been sunup for a while and Kent's gone back to bed. We got up about 5:00 because he didn't sleep very well, so naturally at 8:30 now I'm ready for a nap. I've got a long list of things still to do and half of it won't be fun. So what's new. If dad's reading this he's rolling his eyes - what farmer says any part of the day is fun? Get to work, he'd say. So would Kent. He's a farmer like dad.

Work ought'a be half fun, don't you think? Why in the world should there be such a thing as teeeedium? Can you die of boredom? I want to know. I hope and pray when you're reading my obituary in the paper (may it not be soon) you're not reading

The glad news is I love my life. My to-do list will always be around and may be long, but I won't be, and life is short - so I am grateful for chances to both work and play!

"Hands to work, hearts to God."

New neighbor

As I'm home to the quick pace of my Relief Society calling I've been told of a woman who has just moved into our ward whose husband passed away five days ago. It's too recent, and with her move in this very same week, well, I'm wondering how she's doing.

All the new member "semantics" will fall into place immediately for us (for her) as a presidency, including putting her name and a photo, address, phone number and birth date into our RS directory; assigning a visiting teacher; and extending help and especially now, condolences. I'm curious enough to go to the link for her husband's obituary (link) published a few days ago - the bishop in introducing her to us by e-mail included it, so it's intended. The couple lived 40-plus years in an adjacent community and his funeral is being handled tomorrow by that loving ward family, but there's a notion in me that I may somehow contribute . . .

I read these words:

Truly a master teacher in all walks of life, Art constantly strove to live the "examined life" (Plato) and encouraged others to do the same. He never resisted the "noble impulse" to uplift and inspire others to seek after that which is TRUE, GOOD, and BEAUTIFUL (Platonic Trilogy). Indeed, Art taught us about the depth and redemptive power of love and the importance of relationships.

His true passion was that of a philosopher, thinker, and writer; in his own words: "I was a striver all my days to give a meaning to my life; I sought to be sensitive to the fates and sufferings of others; to sustain a passion and a love for life; to seek continuously to create something of value never before on the earth."

I tell you, I think about her. There's ways to be with people . . . distances to keep between and among us, and curiosities that do bring us together. There's a good deal more to any one person than we can ever know and I'm always inclined toward one way beyond his or her "semantics." I'm curious now to discover our new neighbor, and sad, so sad with her as she moves here. And am really inspired by what I read of her husband . . .

He adored spending time with family and in nature, never missing a family event . . . or a sunset. He shaped our hearts and minds and was deeply loved by all who knew him.

. . . who I won't get to meet.

-----

Guess what! At presidency meeting several hours ago I was assigned to be the new sister's visiting teacher.



Can you believe it?!

Comfortable

These are regular days: meals, cartoons and HGTV and football; house cleaning, shopping and one failed attempt to get to the pumpkin patch. An online misprint led us and some other family - random, that - into the gates of the place just after it had closed. 7:06 p.m. and, shucks, out of luck on a beautiful moonlit Monday night. 'T'would've been perfect! So we hit Target instead for doughnuts.

This time has been a bit idyllic. Slower paced by far than what we've endured enjoyed the last few months, I'm grateful to have wakened these past mornings to nothing more on my agenda than reading my book or napping in the afternoon. We've visited Mike's work place and the kids' new home they're purchasing, and wandered their neighborhood and parks and shopping centers. Rested and played and talked and watched Swamp People and Soul Surfer. It's comfortable.

Abbie braided my hair while we watched a show one night - we always do beauty parlor when I come.


Tomorrow we drive home. Tonight's packing and bathing the kids and the last of laundry and cleaning. Mike's got instructions about meals for the days he stays, and we'll be out early in the morning to get ahead of the downtown rush. Actually this is going on slap in the middle of a close, loud game of Farkle.

A good day

Seventh tooth pulled. It's time and dad's home, and dad's the expert.

Before church

and after. 

(Is this one of the snowman carrots? Eww.)

After naps - Erin's and Mike's and Kent's actually; I shut one eye on the couch downstairs while the kids played in the next room - a walk through the beltway.

We're having way too much fun. Erin turned to me while we walked together, her hair blown and cheeks red in the cold cold air, and said, "This is how I imagined it would be on the Sunday night you were here!"

Good eats and a high time

Seriously snowing yesterday around breakfast time. I alternated between standing at the stove stirring white sauce for creamed eggs over toast and at the sliding glass door snapping pictures of Abbie, dressed to the gills in snow gear.



Landon got into the action the minute he woke and could wriggle into his snow pants. Grandpa had to help him with his shoes. (No boots his size in the house I think.) He crashed Abbie's party 'cause clearly he's rebuilding the snowman...



. . . and Abbie's on to Snow Angels.



We gathered the kids and drove to Sam and Lori's where they were waiting for us so we could caravan to Colorado Springs. To eat barbecue.

Seriously?

Sam and Lori leaving us in the dust. It's a 45 minute drive and in that time we went from this



to this.

So seriously.



33 degrees. Me behind the camera...



... now Sam.



Our first idea days ago was to spend Saturday afternoon walking and driving through Garden of the Gods, finishing with Rudy's. When we saw on about Thursday night that the high would be like 49 degrees for Saturday (yeah, right), we changed that plan to just driving down and eating... but look at this weather. Amazing! So Sam led the way into the Garden where we stopped and got out.



I can't do it, I can't do it,
says Noah.

I offer him a finger and we go down.



Driving the massive Gardens.



Side view.



If you've been watching, you see the weather turned on us as we played. Time to get out.



So we did.