The Apple Not Far from the Tree

Dear family and dear friends 7 March 2010

A Bellevue friend of ours published in the Ensign magazine a story of one of her “not feeling very well” days when the Spirit said, get up anyway and bring a note to one of the ladies she wanted to befriend. Something amazing, wonderful and earth-shaking happened. I can’t remember what, but I think of the story every time I am tempted to guard my pillow and the front door to not let anyone in or out. Maria’s or Steven’s or someone’s cold has worked to get the better of me yesterday and today. But organizing of pictures has grabbed me and I am up, even though gratefully, I had a kind neighbor agree to teach the four year olds for me…and hopefully no one got too near yesterday at the Bountiful Family History Fair, where I borrowed a sixth of a box of Kleenex and soaked in whatever I could between sniffles.

Verla, my hero historian and mother-in-law
joined me, banana in purse, and smile on cheeks as I passed her going to my third class. Some years ago, she came across a picture of one of her ancestors’ families that helped her to get to know cousins and grand cousins (is there such a thing?) Okay, cousins twice and thrice removed. Many expressed interest, shared stories, and before she could stop herself, she was in the process of compiling a book. Maria has typed. Val has typed and helped to edit. I have assisted. Bob,

her son-in-law and editor-in-chief has taken a breath from editing the Deseret News to crop and restore pictures, and put it all together. Verla came to learn more about how to create something she has nearly completed, and felt joy realizing all the help that comes when we put our hands to the plow. She is phenomenal, and the rest of us are thinking maybe we should try something new and challenging even if we may not yet be 80!

Two letters back, I shared some of our 2009 Christmas. It was lovely, but it went just a day longer than we had planned, and at the end of the afternoon, the Saturday after Christmas, we realized that Val’s nuclear and extended family were planning an eightieth birthday celebration for Grandma the next day at 5 p.m. Nothing to be done, but drive—and drive we did,

through the mountains and through the night. Good roads and conditions minus some fog through the Blue Mountains in Oregon (when Laurene was driving and rather frightened) but I kept praying and kept my speed down. In fact, we were traveling at 30 mph through the dense mist when Val inquired what made me inclined to drive so fast. It may have been ten minutes, but felt like an hour.

The fog ended; the succeeding roads let us travel directly, and we made good time--except for the minor several-mile detour we took toward Pocatello. It was the only time any of us have ever heard a particular parent advocate considering the median emergency turn around (and we won’t say which parent.) We did, however, arrive at home in time to turn up the water heater, shower, and walk into Sacrament Meeting half-dazed (surely the reason for Laurene’s accepting an invitation [while trapped in the coat closet without an escape!] to present a family history presentation for Relief Society later mid-month.)

Later that eventful Sunday evening, we gathered in a welcoming dining room



with sparklers for Grandma to blow out and we smiled as we watched what happens to twins over the years,

grateful to hear sometime later that Grandma’s twin had an equally lovely gathering with her family.

Val’s youngest sister Marlene and family were visiting from Arizona.




Their Tacy brought her little Ella, and as we watched her clap and grin, someone mentioned how amazingly much Ella looks like Verla and Merla in their infant pictures.





And yes, she does! Funny, how things pass down. A friend of mine mentioned reading a chapter in last year’s Relief Society manual this past month that mentions Salmon Gee. She mentioned that what they said about him reminds her of me. What is written, primarily, is the encouragement of the prophet for the ward members to listen to their bishop (Salmon Gee.) I am grateful when someone encourages those under my stewardship to listen to me!



It was fun to be invited to listen to Maria debate this Thursday. My conclusion is that defending a position without being defensive

looks to be quite a trick.

Hoorah for our friends who do it well! Author Michael Wilcox taught the stake Relief Society on Thursday night that standing, when we stand in holy places refers to actively defending truth. Thank you doing exactly that! And at our ward conference Sunday our chemical engineer bishop taught us about the refinement of titanium. Each clump of this metal ore has all the properties of titanium before being refined. It simply requires a severe mixing with chlorine, then vacuuming, and other radical changes to become pure and valuable. He likened the process to friends and family members, who have all the properties of deity and goodness within them but at times fall off the belt of the refinement process. As parents and friends, valuing the worth inside we must encourage one another to stay on or get back on the belt. Blessings to friends and family anxiously engaged in such refinement. Love to you! Starkeys

Climb a Ladder and Lean into the Wind

Dear family and dear friends, 3 Mar 2010
It is again, the end of the month (no, the beginning…) and my turn to make sense from the last weeks’ happenings. Yesterday, my youngest brother and his wife and their children ages 8 and 5 were queried by an Ogden judge as to whether they could aptly care for and be a good example to a sweet two year old, who as of noon, 2 March 2010 became officially a part of their family. The judge, father to ten, offered tender words and questions before striking his gavel for the brother and “sister of him” (a favorite quote from a childhood book: “I am the sister of him, and he is my brother. Each day I bring him my ball and my book, and each day he is too little to look!”)



That was the case with a younger brother of mine—two even—until they grew up.


Now they advise me on computer glitches and tax returns. Both of these brothers attended. Both plan to celebrate in nearly two weeks when we gather at a beautiful new building in Draper for a temple sealing. Cousin time galore, combined with an eight year old baptism and varied visitors from Logan and Provo.

Recently, Val’s cousin Jedd

(the cousin with whom Val stayed with while we were courting 17 years ago, when Val shared a porch with this family’s Vietnamese pig) was perched on a ladder while trimming a tree. Apparently the limb upset the ladder, causing a significant fall. Emerging from ICCU, Jedd’s doctor pronounced him a lucky person. As many of our family had been praying for him night and day since the accident, we attributed it to more than luck. Grateful for family willing to climb high, take risks, and happiest for healing powers that await our petitions after a fall, we are relieved and delighted to hear the prognosis encompasses only 12 broken ribs and a six week bed rest.

March is birthday month for Val. I have decided that his growing up years were not complete with sufficient Christmas fodder under the tree. He must have not had enough tiny John Deer equipment to fill his appetite. When Uncle Bob neared 60, he found himself a convertible BMW. Val, however, has held out for a tractor…and a tractor would not be complete without a farm. On the day that Laurene sat through a Russon Brother Funeral Home presentation to teach about future choices and thinking through such arrangements, and after receiving an expected email announcing Grandma Bernice’s passing, Val truly “bought the farm”…


procuring acreage and living space just outside Spring City,

30 minutes north and a little east of Manti, two hours from here, one hour south of Provo.




Val was looking for something relatively close and is resting easier about divesting resources, with a spot to grow food, should there ever be need. Val is also pumped about having a foot-warming spot
to prevent repeat of last year’s toe-threatening hunting experience of sleeping

in Grandpa’s truck at 20 degrees while in pursuit of the elusive elk. I believe the “hoochie mama” is hid carefully away. But it is amazing what can be found when we are not looking. And he is inviting friends!


In an introductory orchard lesson yesterday, our neighbor showed us how to prune fruit trees. The little buds are unique—pointed ones are leaves; rounded ones are the blossoms. We learned how to cut less wanted limbs to help the tree lean into the sometimes fierce easterly wind. Cut off the twigs growing to the west. Make sure the branches are reaching out as well as up. Ninety degrees is best. Resting on the branch will bruise the fruit--encourage the buds to hang out, away from the branch. So, as we learn to reach outward, we train ourselves to think ahead, to lean toward the wind.

Recovering from the strike of March madness, we treasure moments remembering Grandma Bernice, so blessed to know her daughters have cared for her so attentively, grateful to live close enough to attend her funeral. Glad for parents nearby and via satellite waves whom we love and enjoy, who teach us to climb carefully and to face our winds in faith. Smiles and sunshine to you, the Starkeys