6-18 Chicken Ashes and Camping MRI's
Monday, June 18, 2007
Ok, so I can’t sleep. It’s 11:00 PM and I haven’t even started the
JOTD! I hate the pre-MRI jitters. Tomorrow will pass quickly and
quietly I hope. Son #4 is NPO after 6:45 tomorrow morning. That
might mean we can sleep through breakfast...
So, we went camping this weekend. First we went to Logan Utah,
about 2 hours north of us, for a family reunion. As you know I’ve
done a bit of Genealogy, but not as much as some of these people.
I think when you hit 65, that you must have more time to do those
sorts of things. I can only hope I make it that long to get some
time to do more of mine research.
What really impressed me at this reunion (other than the fact that
everyone was over 70, and I only knew 2 people out of the 40 who
attended) was the fact that our host had really done a lot of
research. I don’t know if she found it, or got it from her
ancestors, but they have a line that goes back to Charlemagne.
And, if you get back to him, you can apparently get back to Adam.
Yes, ~the~ Adam. So, if you thought it was cool that my sons were
related to Merlin Olsen, going back to Adam ought to really
impress you. And, speaking of Merlin Olsen, I met his sister at
the reunion. She told stories of him when he was younger, and
apparently he was a pretty big boy growing up. He was even bigger
when he played for the LA Rams. And no, I didn’t ask for her
After the reunion, we camped over night at Bear Lake. Grandma and
Grandpa stayed in their RV with my 4 boys, and my poor sweet wife
and I got stuck in a tent yet again. Someday I’ll get to sleep in
the RV. I just know it! But, I digress...
Sunday on Father’s day, we ended up in Randolph. We had planned it
that way so we could spread my father’s ashes up on the mountain
with a great view. (Above 8400 feet!) He had a successful grouse
hunt there one year, and told a friend that’s where he wanted to
end up. Dad’s friend brought his bagpipes and played a few of
dad’s favorite tunes. High in the mountains, deep in the wood,
with a great view; It was pretty touching.
Sometimes I wonder about son #4. He runs around and like just a
normal kid, but then when we were tromping through the woods in
the mountains to find just the right spot for his grandpa, he
couldn’t walk worth a darn. He kept tripping and falling over
sticks and logs, and had a really hard time. We held his hand,
carried him a little, took it slow, and finally made it, but it
was just a stark reminder of his problems too.
We had told him that in ‘the box’ was grandpa’s ashes. Somehow he
got it in his little head that there were full sets of bones in
there. When grandpa came out of the box, son #4 was pretty upset
to learn that they ‘burned grandpa’. So, that was a tough sell
Anyway, one last story. For some reason when you’re driving around
for hours at a time, the family conversation turns to weird
things. We ended up talking about chickens and how my dad once
brought home several live chickens, and we all got to make them
into dinner. A scene I’ll not ever forget. A bit comical to my 10
or 11 year old brain... Which brought up a story that I told my
boys. When we lived in Kearns, I was the Varsity Coach for the Boy
Scouts. (14-15 year old Scouts). Now there’s something that
happens to a boy when he turns 14 and gets with another bunch of
14 and 15 year old Scouts and they stop working on merit badges,
and start thinking of other stuff. Anyway, our Varsity Team was
going on the ‘Big Event’, kind of like a Mountain Man Rendezvous
for Scouts. We needed a new dutch oven for the team, and they were
having a dutch oven cooking contest with a brand new dutch oven as
one of the prizes. So, having this vast knowledge about preparing
chickens from scratch... (ba dum bump...), and wanting to
somehow... excite the boys into activity, I thought our Team could
impress the judges by bringing fresh, (oh so fresh) ingredients
for a BBQ chicken dish. But, being somewhat cautious, I wanted to
try it during one of our Scout meetings first. So I searched the
valley for a live chicken, and brought one over to our meeting.
(After asking parental permission first, of course...) We
proceeded to take out the chopping stump, a handy Scout hatchet,
and proceeded to take care of business. We cleaned everything up,
cut the chicken in to pieces, got out the BBQ sauce, fired up the
coals, and started our award winning meal. Then, for some reason,
not one of the boys wanted to try any of our chicken. “I saw that
thing alive, and I’m not eating it!” I suppose that’s one thing
that they’ll never forget, and now that they’re older, I’m sure
they talk about it in their therapy sessions.
Come to think of it, that was about the chewiest, toughest chicken
I think I’ve ever had.
Enough of that. It’s time for bed. Now, enjoy your chicken
sandwich at lunch today ‘eh? (Grin)
Enjoy Today’s Jokes!
Jokes, stories, and for sure good MRI news tomorrow!