Monday, November 9, 2009
Playing Chess with Toothpaste
and "Off They Go into New Zealand Yonder"
Dear family and dear friends 8 November 2009
I hear the promise of living is made richer in penning. So, here is my effort to distill the grape juice of our lives in a one short sitting. With her spouse and favorite gardener/juice-maker managing national code meetings back east, our kind neighbor Pamela Davies, offered a back yard of berries to some novice juicers. Val and I must have picked ten boxes before I cried “uncle” Tuesday morning. My father had called Monday afternoon to announce the arrival of the visas permitting their entry into New Zealand where they have been called to serve in the temple visitor center. The visas had been previously delayed until further notice. My brother David decided that the whole family needed to fast on Sunday, November 1st to expedite the visas’ arrival. The visas came to the MTC November 2nd.
So, Tuesday, November 3rd, after lugging a last box of berries (yes, grapes are officially berries—ask your local extension service) into a laden trunk, I zipped to Provo, supping with a starving student on her way between classes to purchase symphony tickets. While missionary parents finalized training and hugged good-bye to MTC friends, I pounded Provo pavement to preview a possible residence for future Starkey students. That night we celebrated Uncle Roy’s return from Payson hospital, new knee intact, spooning Aunt Arlene’s corn chowder of fresh grown potatoes and quibbling over Quiddler cards, uncovering pleasant early election results.
Before the sun could blink, it was time to try out Roy’s medical scales. Six bags could weigh 230 pounds, 50 each for four large bags, two 15 pound carry-on bags with no limit to the “purse” or handheld, except what was reasonable to carry. First six pounds “over,” then four pounds “under,” we played chess with toothpaste and toiletries, discarding even prized missionary instructions (surely they could be procured there) until at last each bag was either precisely prescribed poundage or ¼ pound under—VoilĂ !
Shirley's siblings Vera & Joe stopped for a surprise sendoff an hour before...
Later, arriving at the apartment for nephew David to join our caravan to the airport, I realized that the Manavu condos he had been raving to me about stood on the exact ground where I had first lived as a married student at BYU, directly south of Manavu Chapel, paying forty dollars rent per month until the property owner could secure funds to plow under the century old apartment-style house. I fondly remember sisters from the ward kindly and quickly boxing and packing when the landlord gave us less than a week to find a new place.
Another home we visited earlier that morning, listed but already sold, is now property of a man named Bruce Money. “Richard Bruce Money?” Indeed, Bruce, a classmate from a BYU honors arts & letters colloquium has returned to chair BYU’s Finance Department. We are smiling at enterprising business students reassured to meet their incoming department chair--Rich Money.
Maria has recently claimed the ides of teen-hood, fifteen with a driver’s permit, enjoying the perks of debating and getting accolades rather than accusations for sharpening skills in defense of a point of view. Her young women advisor-to-be, a friend from a freshman colloquium class, peered over choir today, whispering “Are you all right?” “I’ll be fine…in about eighteen months!” It was not conducive to Kleenex supply to sing “I Need Thee Every Hour.” Since phone service is on hold, God is giving us incentive to write. So, happy anticipating letters ahead! Love from Starkeys and happy extra spring and summer to Elder & Sister Gee!
Some straggling snapshots from their openhouse October 25. (A week prior to Daylight's savings time...can you tell?)
But they did not snore in Sacrament Meeting.
Cherishing friends from near and far
And no pennies paid for extra poundage!
Happy Harvest!
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