Activism

When I think about activism, the first name that pops into my mind is Clyde Conrad. Both my dad and Uncle Clyde were very involved in things, like rural electricity, rural telephones, marketing boards and so forth--I have just been looking them up in old newspapers, and there is a lot more information about them to collect than I had supposed--but Uncle Clyde was the extrovert of the two brothers, and so much more likely to speak up and take action, to just be really out there, than my dad, who was happier to be Uncle Clyde's cheerleader. Dad cared about political issues, too, but just was not quite as active an activist as his older brother.

I wanted to find the Taber Times article about picketing the Sugar Factory--an Uncle Clyde-led initiative that I remember from my teenage years--but instead I found a bunch of other stuff. Like, in 1958, he participated on a panel discussing pros and cons of fertilizers and irrigation; in 1974, he stepped up to be vocal at an investigation into the way Canadian Western Natural Gas Co. was doing business with rural Albertans; in 1981, he was one of 18 Alberta farmers to write a brief about surface rights on farms--how oil wells on farmland decrease the value of the land, instead of raising it; in 1983, when the Alberta Beet Grower's Association was going to hire a manager, "Clyde Conrad led the opposition" and successfully overturned that initiative. And sometime in the mid-seventies, when the Alberta government was going to quietly pass a law that would have made farmers have to seek permits to move rocks on their property, and I happened to read the teeny tiny notice in the paper and showed my dad, he of course brought it to Uncle Clyde's attention, and Uncle Clyde mobilized a huge protest. Now that I have found Uncle Clyde mentioned way more than I thought he would be in  area newspapers, I am going to launch a research project and collect all the information! But for now, I just want to make the point that he was a decades-long activist.

Uncle Clyde giving his MLA, Bob Bogle, a piece of his mind in 1984

So, he would be very proud of Rachel for her activism! I wanted to record why Rachel is doing this, as I understand it--Nancy can correct me if I get any details wrong.

Nancy and Andrew and their children moved to the Atlanta, Georgia area in July. School became frustrating even before it started because Georgia has some pretty stringent registration requirements. One example of Nancy discussing that can be found here.

Nancy and Andrew eventually decided to home school the younger children, but Rachel (age 12) wanted to attend her middle school. But her middle school is--well, I don't know what to call it; I am just very, very glad that I never had to be a student there. You can't arrive at school early; there is no socialization of the children. The only break in the school day (and Rachel is basically gone from 9-5) is a lunch period during which the students have to sit in ALPHABETICAL ORDER and no talking is allowed. During class time, from my understanding, there is no group work or anything that isn't rigidly doing your work.

So, each grade gets four "recesses" a year. On four occasions spread throughout the year, one of the elective classes (for Rachel those are PE and orchestra) is set aside and the children are allowed to go outside. First, they have to walk around something--the track, maybe? the perimeter of the school grounds?--and after they have ticked off the required walking (which has to be done in silence) then they can actually TALK TO OTHER STUDENTS. Since this NEVER happens at school--Rachel says she spends most of the day being absolutely silent and talks more at home than she ever does at school--the kids look forward to these days. Like, four times a year--you aren't even going to be able to get to know others well enough to make friends--but at least you can get to know someone a little bit better in this relaxed setting where you can talk to whomever you want to talk to.

So the Grade Seven students got their first "recess" of the year a few weeks ago. Five hundred students went outside and did what they were supposed to do--they did their required silent walking. And then students went here and there, scattered around, talking to each other. And that is when two of the 500 got into a fight. Clearly, most of the remaining 498 students wouldn't have even been aware that a fight happened, because they were off doing their own thing. For once!!! Literally, for once!!

And then, afterwards, they learned about the fight because the principal--or vice-principal over their grade--informed them that all other recesses for the year are cancelled for their grade because two students got into a fight. And just like that, their remaining three opportunities to actually talk to other students, and maybe learn how to interact with PEOPLE, which is sort of a necessary life-skill, are gone. They get to just be little learning, studying, test-taking, silent-at-lunch robots who stay in alphabetical order and end the year with exactly no new friends. Doesn't that sound delightful?

So that is why Rachel turned activist. I mean, they already don't have any rights at school, anyway, since they are pretty much regimented every second of the day. So those four recesses per year are greatly looked forward to. So 498 innocent children get to lose their recess rights for the entire year--admittedly, pretty small rights, since that means they only miss 3 recesses--because of two students who most of them don't even know. I mean, there were maybe a few kids who saw the fight and carry some guilt by association, but most of the kids--entirely innocent.

Rachel does want to be a lawyer someday; like the article about her--that never mentions her name except as Dr. Heiss's daughter--says, she grew up on Hamilton and she is well-schooled to think about human rights. I am proud of her, and I know that Uncle Clyde would be even prouder. If he heard about what is going on at her school, he would say, "I am pretty riled about that." And then proceed to do something about it.

Hymn Sing October 2019

I wrote about last night's Hymn Sing in a letter to my friend Donna, and decided to share it here, too. Probably a bit edited for a different purpose.

I sponsor a monthly "Hymn Sing" program in the library, and the one for October was last night. Josie usually comes with me, and runs the computer--we hand out music, or use hymnals, but sometimes we run out of physical copies, so Josie keeps the music up on the screen, too.

Last night, we sang Janice Kapp Perry hymns with Janice--I have been friends with Janice for a long time, getting close to 20 years, and she has been coming to Hymn Sing as a participant for awhile. Our mutual friend Janet has been picking Janice up and bringing her to hymn sing because Janice is 81 and doesn't like to drive at night. Janice asked Janet if we ever sing new hymns, ones that people don't know, because she would really like to have some of her hymns sung. She has written many, but it isn't often that she gets to hear them sung. And Janet said sure! And we set the date to sing a set of JKP hymns at Hymn Sing!

So last night we sang 12 of the hundred or so hymns that Janice has written. It was a very moving and beautiful night! At the end, we had a few left over "handouts" of Janice's hymns, and Josie said, "You should send one of these to Donna." And I thought that was a great idea--but then I thought, well I can send her the PDF (the one that Josie was manipulating on the screen) and she will get it faster! Plus I printed them out booklet style, to save paper, and the print was pretty small. Older eyes like mine (apologies to my brother Bruce and other older people at Hymn Sing who had to suffer with the small print!) prefer larger print, am I right?

So I shared the PDF of the 12 hymns that we sang with JKP last night with Donna. I can't remember all the stories that go with all the hymns, but let me tell you the story that goes with the last hymn. I know that story well because Janice has told me the story before, so I have heard it a few times and remember it well.

In the fall of 2007, Janice's niece was dying of cancer. She was in her 50s, and watching her die was very hard on the family--and not particularly fun for her, either. It seemed so senseless for her to die so young. Once day when Janice was visiting her niece, she noticed that she had a poem on her wall that had been written by Gordon B. Hinckley, called "What is this thing that men call death?"

1. What is this thing that men call death
This quiet passing in the night?
’Tis not the end but genesis
Of better worlds and greater light.

2. O God, touch Thou my aching heart
And calm my troubled, haunting fears.
Let hope and faith, transcendent, pure,
Give strength and peace beyond my tears.

3. There is no death, but only change,
With recompense for vict’ry won.
The gift of Him who loved all men,
The Son of God, the Holy One.

Janice's niece said that she had put that poem on the wall to read it every day (multiple times a day) and that it was what was giving her hope and courage as she was approaching death herself. Janice's niece had written to the prophet, and thanked him for the poem and the way it was helping her to live in the face of death, and he had written her back a very long and comforting letter. The letter, too, had become a part of how Janice's niece was coping with her impending death. After sharing the letter with Janice, her niece said, "You should set that poem to music!"

Janice said, "But how? I would need permission to use his words. What am I supposed to do, write to him and ask if I can?"

Her niece said, "Yes! I wrote to him--and he wrote back! You should do it!"

Janice felt pretty hesitant about doing that, but her niece said, "Promise you'll do it--please do it for ME! I want to hear it before I die."

So Janice did. She wrote and asked, and he wrote back and gave her permission to set the poem to music.

She had also told him that her music company was publishing her hymns, and would he give permission for her to publish the hymn after it was written.

He had responded that he would like to see the finished hymn first, before deciding about that.

Janice finished the hymn in December 2007. She printed a copy and mailed it to the prophet, and then waited. Weeks went by, and he did not respond. She decided that maybe he was taking a vacation. She waited some more. It got to be January. Her niece died--the poem was printed on her funeral program. And her niece had heard the song; her mother had played it for her on the piano.

And then came the Sunday (January 27, 2008) that President Hinckley died. Janice was sad that he had died, but also sad that the beautiful hymn that she had co-written with the prophet (!!) would never be heard because she could not use it without his permission, and she had not heard back from him.

The next day, Monday, her son John went out and got the mail. He came back waving an envelope, and said, "Mom, could this be the letter you are waiting for? It is from the First Presidency." With trembling hands, Janice opened the envelope, and there was a letter to her from Gordon B. Hinckley saying that he had loved the song, that he would be honored if she would publish it.

The next day, Tuesday, she answered the phone to Craig Jessop, then the Tabernacle Choir conductor, telling her that President Hinckley's family had requested that song to be sung at his funeral.

When Janice afterwards had the opportunity to speak to President Hinckley's secretary, she found out the timeline: on Friday the 25th, President Hinckley had dictated the permission letter, the secretary mailed the letter on Saturday, President Hinckley died on Sunday, Janice received the letter on Monday. A beautiful miracle of timing.

That ends what I sent to Donna. What I am going to add here is about the day President Hinckley died for us. Josie was almost 13 when President Hinckley died. He was the prophet of her lifetime--he became the prophet in 1995, before she turned 1 year old, so having the prophet die was a new, and sad, experience for her.  Kelli had been listening to the radio, and when the announcement of his death came, she called us and told us that he had died. Josie was very sad and needed to walk and talk about it, so she and I went for a walk.

As we were walking (we were about at the vacant lot between the Cards and the Ryttings--on that street) along came Bishop Bybee driving towards us. It was pretty obvious that Josie was upset and crying. He pulled over and said, "Is everything okay? Can I help?" I said, "Oh, Josie just loves President Hinckley a lot, and she is upset about him dying." 

Bishop Bybee gave me this odd look, and said, "President Hinckley died? Myrna, this can't be true--I was just at the Olsens house a short while ago, and I think if her grandfather had died, Rosemary would have said something."

I said, "Well--it was announced on the radio..."

He said, "It was?--I am going back to the Olsens."

A few minutes later, as we were still out walking, heading back the other direction, he came along in his car again, to confirm that it was true--Rosemary had of course by then gotten the call and he heard it from her, so that meant it was true!

Mission Miracles

Today in Sacrament Meeting we had our high council speaker. And his talk was quite riveting! It was Brother David Dollahite who spoke to us. Apparently the talk he gave was a short version of his BYU devotional address of 2016, which you can read here.

Our speakers had the topic of listening to the Spirit, and recognizing the Holy Ghost. Brother Dollahite told about how he came to join the church. When he was about 18, and in his first year at a junior college in California, he noticed a book on his mother's bookshelf, and pulled it out to look at. It was a Book of Mormon, and he felt the need to read it. Like, a compelling need, a feeling of urgency to read it that he could not explain. He had never heard of it before, didn't know anything about any church associated with it. Inside, it was signed by one of his mother's friends who had given it to her, so after he read it and wanted to know more, he had someone to ask.

I am sure there is more about the details of that in the devotional address he gave, but I am going to skip ahead to two experiences he had on his mission. Suffice it to say that as he studied the gospel, he learned that that feeling--that compelling need, that urgency he had felt--was The Spirit.

Brother Dollahite was called to the Boston, Massachusetts mission. He was paired with another elder, whom we will call Elder X, and they were in their assigned ward on a Sunday when a member approached them to come with him to give a blessing to a friend of his. He had invited this friend to church, and she had come, but she wasn't feeling well (I think more emotionally unwell rather than physically unwell), and so he told her about priesthood blessings and asked if she would like one.

So he grabbed the elders to assist him. They gave her a blessing, and after that blessing, she agreed to meet with the missionaries. When they met with her, she told them that she was evangelical, and that her pastor would not be at all happy that she was meeting with them, but that she felt a compelling need, an urgency, to meet with them and be taught by them. This was because of a recurring dream that she had been having for two years.

For two years, during times of feeling great emotional unrest, she had dreamed that two men had placed their hands on her head and said words that made her calm down. She had had this dream dozens of times for two years. When the missionaries placed their hands on her head, as they were speaking, she was suddenly back in her dream, and realized that these two missionaries were exactly the two men who had been present in her recurring dream. She knew that the urgency to meet with them came from God.

The missionaries were flabbergasted, because two years earlier, one of them was not active in the church; two years earlier, one of them had not even read the Book of Mormon and was not even baptized and therefore not even thinking about going on a mission. Yet two years earlier, the Lord knew that they WOULD be on a mission, that they would be companions, and that they would meet this woman and give her a blessing, and then teach her.

When the missionaries told their mission president about this experience, he said, "Oh, that explains it!" You see, when Elder Dollahite arrived at the mission home, the mission president met him and knew that he was enthusiastic and really wanted to be there, and so he wanted to place him where he could do the most good. His rule of thumb was that if you have a really eager missionary, you put him with a less eager one so that the companions balance each other out. He considered where to put Elder Dollahite, but he just kept feeling to put him with Elder X. But Elder X was also an eager missionary, so why put them together? He felt like he needed to put each of them with a less eager elder, but the Spirit kept telling him that he needed to put them together.

Also, the mission president always put new missionaries with someone who had been serving for at least 6 months, and Elder X had only been out 2 months, so he shouldn't be a trainer yet. So, the mission president felt like there were two reasons not to put Elder D with Elder X, and yet, he felt a compelling urgency from the Spirit to put them together.

And so, they were together, in the right place, at the right time, to meet this woman who had been dreaming about the two of them giving her a blessing (she did not have that vocabulary to describe it yet) for two years.

So, that was cool.

These same two elders had another cool experience with the Holy Ghost whispering to them.  They decided to go visit an area about a 15 minute drive away and spend the whole day there. They set up some appointments with members, packed a lunch and got in their car to drive there.  They had just crossed some railway tracks when Elder D had the feeling that they should go back and do some tracting on the the street just before the railway tracks.  He mentioned it to him companion, who was driving, and Elder X felt the same way, so Elder D got out his notebook to jot down a note for them to remember to go back there later. But then he felt like they needed to do it NOW, so he turned to Elder X, who simultaneously turned to ward him, and they said at once, "We need to do it NOW." So Elder X turned the car around, and they went back.

They parked on this beautiful tree-lined street, and started walking along when they saw a man in his yard who was raking leaves. The man turned and saw them coming, and called out to them, "So, did my brother send you to me?" Elders X and D were startled and said, "No..." The man said, "No, it's okay if he sent you--you can go ahead and tell me he did."  The elders said, "We really don't know your brother..."

The man said, "Come inside, and let me show you something." They went inside, and the man took from off his fridge a postcard that had been held in place with a magnet.

He said, "I just got his postcard from my brother yesterday."

On it was a picture of two LDS missionaries walking down a tree-lined street that looked very similar to the tree-lined street that Elder D and Elder X had been walking on. On the other side was a short note from the man's brother, who had recently moved to Idaho. It said, "You should find some guys who look like this and talk to them! I have been talking to some of them here in Idaho, and it is changing my life. I think you should talk to them too." After reading the note, the man repeated, "See? My brother sent you."

The missionaries said, "We have not heard about your brother before, until you read that postcard to us. But let us tell you how we came to be here right now." And they told about the Spirit prompting them to go to that particular street NOW.

Both the missionaries and the man knew that it was God, communicating through the Spirit, that brought them together at that particular place at that particular time.

So. Those were the cool missionary miracles that Brother Dollahite shared with us today. (I think it took me longer to write it than it did for him to speak it!)

Comedy of Errors; or, You Gotta Laugh to Keep from Crying

Wowsers. The last couple of days!

On Tuesday afternoon, Josie had an interview with King Henry Apartments. I couldn't take her because I was in a meeting, but our friend Chelsea dropped her off, and then after the meeting, I went to pick her up. No sooner had I parked in the street by King Henry, which was at about 3:15, than she texted me to say that she was at Kiwanis Park because her interview was over, and she didn't want to stand on the street there, so she walked to the park. Seriously? Her interview, which was to start at 3:00, was over AND she had walked to the park already?

So I drove to the park and picked her up. She said it was the strangest interview she had ever had, because the interviewer didn't ask her ANYTHING. She just told her stuff, and then said thank you for coming.  Josie was kind of weirded out, and also thought, "Well, I am not going to get that job."

She already had an interview on Wednesday at ten with Orem Public Library. When she had interviewed with them in June, and got a second interview but they didn't hire her, they had told her to apply again, because they really liked her. So, she had applied again, even though this particular opening was not full time with benefits like the one she narrowly missed in June.

This time, I dropped her off, and Chelsea picked her up. After Josie's interview, she ran into Shelley Watkins, and had a chat with her, and then Chelsea was just finishing up finding books with her little daughter Finley, so before Josie actually left the building, Sharonne, the secretary, found Josie and gave her the forms to do a background check and drug testing that the City of Orem requires.

She was told that she needed to do all the red tape for Orem by Thursday at 5 pm, so I picked her up at noon on Thursday, and we did the first thing, but I needed to be back to work at 1:30, and we ran out of time to finish, so I was going to pick her up around 3:45 or 4 to finish. Meanwhile, she went out to lunch with Lydia and Eliza. While she was in the noisy restaurant, so not a good place for a business cell phone conversation, she got a call from King Henry offering her the job.

She was not sure if she wanted the job since the interview had been so short and unusual, but she for sure didn't want to talk about it in the setting she was in , so she asked if she could call back. And the person said (at 2 pm) that she had to call back by the end of the work day. Josie agreed to do that.  But between 4 and 5, she was sitting in a medical office waiting for her turn to pee in a cup. And she couldn't really leave to make a business call, because she had to be there in case they called her name, and again, it was not a good setting to be making a business call.

She was texting people "What should I do?" and people were saying TAKE THE JOB. Only--she was stuck, unable to call back, and she didn't have a way to text King Henry and say, "I really want to accept the job, but I am not somewhere appropriate to make a business call."

I personally had a feeling she would LIKE the library job better than the job at King Henry, but also, the King Henry job was full time with benefits, and paid $1 per hour more than the library job. So.

I called David to get his opinion. He said that he thought the King Henry job might have been so short and weird because they already decided to hire her, and only were looking for fit or vibe in the interview, and when they met her, they liked her so offered her the job. He said she should accept the job in any circumstance, because if she changed her mind she could always withdraw her acceptance, because that is pretty normal. And not to bank on the library job even though they were having her do all the red tape stuff, because they had him do that once for a job he had applied for, and then they did not hire him.

I texted Mary, since she hires all our student employees at work, and asked her if it was a bit weird to ask for a response the same day, and she said that she thinks 24 hours to think about a job offer is pretty standard for student jobs--and faculty are usually given a few days or a week to respond.

So, while we thought it was strange that King Henry demanded a response the same day, Josie was planning to accept it. Josie looked up their office hours for the day, and it said they closed at 5:30. We were hoping and aiming for home by 5, so she could call them in private, but were a couple of minutes late. We pulled up at about 5:03, so she was making the call right soon after that.

Only the lady wasn't there; so she left a message with the person who answered the phone, who seemed to be writing down the message. And said she was writing down the message. "This is Josie Layton. I am calling to accept the position that was offered me today." Pretty simple.

So. Today Josie was going to work for Rosie and Austin, so she needed to take the 3:48 train. I needed to pick her up, take her to the station, and be back on campus in time to teach a class. Meanwhile, Josie had texted me to say that King Henry had never called her back all day, and here it was almost 3:30. So I told her to CALL THEM even though she didn't want to.

When I picked her up, she said she would call the lady while waiting for the train, since I would be dropping her off about ten minutes early.

I dropped her off. I got onto the road (not the one with the overpass, but the one with the gates that come down) and traffic was moving nicely, and just when it was my turn to go, the gates came down. So I had to stop. I wondered why the gates were coming down, because it was ten minutes early for the train to leave. Also, there were two Frontrunners? Why? There is usually only one.

So I am at the red light, and this cargo train is going and going and going. And five minutes goes by. And the cargo train is going and going, and I can't even turn around because there is an island on my left and a curb on my right and a line of cars behind me. And then the Frontrunner train leaves, so it is 3:48, and I am supposed to be at BYU, parked, and on level two in the library by 4? It is not going to happen. So I called the Music Desk, and a student named George said he would go to the classroom and write a note that I was going to be late, but that I was coming.

FINALLY the gates lifted and I got to go. I was so worried that the other Frontrunner would leave and trap me again, but it didn't. I went a couple of blocks and got to a red light, at which point I read this message from Josie: "Hahahaha. I got on the wrong train. So. Now I have to wait until 4:30."

I got to BYU and parked by maybe one minute after 5. I texted Josie while I was walking to the library to say I got there, and also to remind her to call the lady at King Henry.

She said, "I already did. She's in a meeting."

I got to the classroom only 5 minutes late, and taught the class, and everything was good. Before driving home, I texted Josie and said, "What a comedy of errors! You sitting on the wrong train! (Why were there two?!) and me sitting at the crossing unable to go."

Josie responded, "It was! [A comedy of errors] Haha, who knows why two [trains] were there at the same time. I only clued in when the first train left."

I responded that while I was stuck waiting, I saw a ton of people running, just before the first train left, but they all ran to the second train, so I was surprised when the first train left--it appeared that all those people had run to what now seemed like the wrong train. At the time, it made me wonder if the same mistake had happened to Josie--and it had!

Then I got in my car and drove home. When I got home, I had another message from Josie. She had received an email from King Henry (The Adonis Companies) which she sent a screenshot of to me, that said "Thanks for your interest in the position....we have decided to hire a different candidate." This, after offering her the job, and not responding to her all day after she called twice trying to accept the position!

Her response, "I dodged a bullet, I guess, cause that's bad management. I am pretty upset though."

Well, yes. She thought she had a job! A job offer usually means the people actually have decided to hire you! And when you call someone's cell phone and you don't know where they are or what they are doing, you need to give them a chance to respond appropriately, because they have a life!!

So. Josie thought she had a job for awhile there, but she in fact does not. She does, however, get to work several times a week for Rosie and Austin, and though she doesn't love it, it pays cash money. And now, who knows what will happen with Orem Public Library? All we know is that the drug test takes about three days, by which I am assuming working days, so she will not hear back from them until the middle of the week at the earliest.

And life goes on...

Dancing in the HBLL Auditorium

Today, our concert in the Auditorium was fabulous! Who knew that folk dancing could work in that space? I wondered; Amy Jex, the teacher of the Tier II team wondered; but we gave it a shot, and it worked. It not only worked, but we had 120 people there, and even though you couldn't really see anybody's feet past about row four, we still had a happy and enthusiastic crowd.

Thanks to my designer, Nancy, for her lovely program cover:

No offense to Nancy, but the poster she designed this time around was kind of confusing to me. But I showed the students and they loved it, and that is all that matters. I guess it is something instagram-ish or something that I don't know about? So, thanks for that, Nancy, because people like it, even though I am still wondering what it all means.

Here is a link to the program's insides: https://guides.lib.byu.edu/ld.php?content_id=50662771

And here is a youtube link to the Rapper Sword dance, which was super popular. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXw6Pwvizdw

The students spoke and demonstrated. People in the back who couldn't see were standing on the sides, but I had to make them move for the last few dances, because people were dancing in the aisles. It was very fun! But you had to be there to see what it was like, and to feel the really high energy in the room. We had 32 dancers, and they were really psyched.  I love it when events turn out so great like this one did.

I am alive

When I left Poland, I was sure I would make it home alive, but as that day of travel became a living nightmare, I was not so sure. And yet, here I am.

The flight from Poznan to Frankfurt was delayed by a half hour, which was okay because five of my viola friends were on the same flight, so we had a nice time chatting while waiting. But it was also not okay because some of us had pretty tight connecting flights. I was one of those people. In fact, having experienced what the travel was actually like going the opposite direction, I had even emailed my BYU Travel rep and asked if she thought there was really enough time--the city hopper planes park so far out, and then you have to take a bus in to the terminal, and then you have to go through customs, and then make it to your connection. Fortunately, you don't have to go through security again. My agent called Lufthansa, and they assured her that I only needed 45 minutes to do all that, and I had 75 minutes, so I was good. With now a half hour delay, I was worrying in spite of myself. One of my friends, who lived in Berlin for a few years, assured me that there was nothing to worry about, because even if I missed my flight, Lufthansa would sort it all out without me having to do anything. (Another friend, who is from Madrid, was already at 45 minutes, so minus that half hour delay, she only had 15 minutes left! A friend from Birmingham UK said to the Madrid friend, "I'm sorry but I hope you miss your flight! Then I can spend my layover with you!")

The timing worked out perfectly for me. I got to my gate in time to be near the end of the line to board the plane. But not the very last person, so that was good. But wow, that was a quiet plane--interspersed with expressions of angst. I swear most of the people had connecting flights, and many of them had been made tight by the delay. I hope other people made it--I don't know what happened to my friend from Madrid; I will have to ask!

My seat was in the very last row on the bottom left of the two-story plane. It was a great seat for someone who would need to go to the bathroom every other minute. Which I did. And I got feeling worse and worse. I did not know how I was going to survive for 9.5 hours. When I was able to disembark at Denver, it felt heavenly. Except for the whole having to stop at the bathroom three times between getting into the terminal, going through customs, getting my suitcase, etc.

And my suitcase was broken! I saw it come spinning towards me with a nice line of my pink nightgown showing! The zipper was securely fastened; the suitcase was just broken. The United Agent who helped me recheck it for the last leg of the journey home taped it up good, and told me to report it at my home airport. He was so kind and helpful.

Actually, everyone at the Denver airport was kind and helpful and pleasant. I don't know if I got there on a good day, or if they are always like that. It was very nice.

Then again, I got to my gate in time to board, and me hoping and praying I could do the hour and a half to Salt Lake without needing the bathroom, because I know that the small planes and going to the bathroom--they are logistically difficult.

When you are travel weary and feeling sicker than you have felt in years, it is probably not a good time to exchange your suitcase. The United luggage people were awesome, and they let me choose a new bag to replace my broken one, but unfortunately, I do not think I had the wherewithal to choose wisely. I am not sure that the handle on this brand-new case I have will retract, and if it won't, it is kind of useless. So far, I have not been able to make it go down all the way.

And then I spent two days basically in bed, except that there were things I HAD to do at work, so I would drag myself there for as long as I could stand it, and then come home and hop back into bed. Today, I still felt ill, and was kind of upset that I had a 9 AM appointment, but you know what--I started to feel better! And I even felt well enough to pull out my computer and type up these words, and that is pretty awesome considering that I felt like doing that was way more effort than I could muster only yesterday!