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
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