Friday, February 5, 2010

Next time you drive the grapevine!

When Paul and I went to Los Angeles this week for his tests at the Veterans Hospital I noticed that narrow road along side the hill. I suppose I have looked at that everytime I went South, but it was only on this trip that I realized it was the same road my Dad had driven that old Ford of his over when we came to California in 1935 and 1938. I was pretty young way back then and still have vivid memories of the hair pin turns and the narrow places that passing was hazardous.
It might pay you to study that old highway when you make your next trip and try to envision what it must have been like back then. Cars certainly didn't have all the suspensions and high gears, tires, lights or a hundred other things that cars do today. Of course they were not as spacious or big either.
It was always a huge consideration when Dad realized that stretch of road was just ahead. The big strain with kids was car sickness. The folks were greatful that none of us seemed to be bothered with it. Night or day, the windows were rolled down to make sure there was ample supply of clear air flowing through the car at all times. Dad slowed down the speed, and kept his eyes open and his mind clear. We kids knew to be quiet and not act up while this dangerous part of the trip was being endured.
Compared to the highways across the US today that trip across country on Route 66 and the Grapevine was something todays travelers are not missing. Two lane, long stretches without any kind of comfort stations along the way. Today there are Rest Stops all across the country. That certainly was not the case way back then. Oh, there were colorful places to see. In fact if you go along Route 66 today, there a number of those things still in view - all be it run down condition and/or abandoned today. Tee Pee Motels, Train Car dinners and of course the two pump gas stations with the old pumps that were fun to watch refill when gas had pumped them empty. Man what things we had to enjoy back then. Long gone from the scenes of today.
No McDonalds, Wendys or Burger King. No Ramada, Holiday Inn Express or Hampton Inns. Just those one room cabins with the privy out back. Yet we found what was needed along the way. Dad would turn off in a small town and they would find a grocery store. Back then they had all kinds of things, but nothing like you find today. No packaged potato chips or doritos. No you went to the meat counter and bought a hunk of bologne and piece of cheese. These you had to slice down for yourself. A loaf of bread and a quart or two of milk, and you were off to the bakery for some kind of sweet to brighten up your meal. Dad drove and Mom made sandwiches and passed them back. We ate in quiet and I don't ever recall anyone asking: "are we there yet".
We never had music, the car didn't have a radio - think of it - we were in the car for a week everyday as we made our way across the United States. I don't recall us stopping to see sites. We didn't have money for anything extra. Come to think of it, I don't think there were all that many attractions. That day had not dawned yet. I think we entertained ourselves by watching the passing scenery. Back then we didn't ride in the car all that often, so seeing something new was a fascination in itself. Hey, that may be why I feel we had the best of things. We never had anything to distract us from what was really around us. We never got bored, there was always too much to see and do.
Once we got to California it was a wonder to see so many Orange Trees. Oranges were a premium item in the East where we had just come from. I guess that means that Shipping by truck back then was a novelty as well. Growing up without things has been an adventure for sure.
There was no traffic. Truck shippments were few - guess the railroads were king back in those days. No airplane travel to speak of. Even AirMail back then would have been a novelty.
Guess this all means I am getting older and surpisingly wiser. I begin to see life as it was as it is and amazingly how it will be. All in all, I don't think the improvements have made it all that much better. I think hanging out clothes may have taken time, but the results can't be matched today. Living where we could walk to everything can't be beat either. We were able to have cleaner air and healthier life styles then. We learned to make our own entertainment. Deciding whether we would stay home and find friends to play with or go to the movies. No TV to clutter up the day. WOW what a difference. Well that is enough of this faul de raul.
You have it your way, and I'll have it mine. Sorry you couldn't have had it my way though, you would have had a real experience!

Written this 5 day of Februray 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg

I Think I need to get a new life!

Isn't that what they say when things are pretty obvious the one you have is under the control of someone or something else? I laughingly believe that is what has happened to me. This is Friday and I always get up early and put out the trash cans. Of course that means that I leave the cat (MIA) out for her morning "contitutional". Even though things were a bit wet due to the rain we had during the night, she was content to walk "gingerly about" and stay out when I was ready to come back into the house. My other normal routine is to turn on the computer, check my e-mail and then go on line to do a little with Ancestry.com. There is always plenty to keep me busy there. Usually I am on the computer an hour or two.
Now I go to the kitchen to fix me a small breakfast and of course let the cat (MIA) back in. Now this means I get a scolding because I have made her wait in the garage for what apparently has been too long a space of time. She goes, tail in the air, up the hall to her dish of food, "yowling" all the way. I take this to mean I have not treated her as she would like. (So what else is new?)
I turn to the task of fixing me some hot chocolate and toast, which is not a huge task, but just a bit too much time so far as the cat (MIA) is concerned. I once again hear her "yowling" from the hall. I step to see what it is that she is "complaining" about. She is setting in the bedroom doorway. Now, to anyone else, this would mean very little, but to me, with the expression she has on her face I realize she is summoning me for her morning "treatment". Now, don't get me wrong, I realize quickly I have created a monster. To keep her from shedding all over the house I made a game of getting her into her window bed each morning to brush her. Now the signal was, "time to make the bed". It took some time to train her to this, but finally she worked into it. When she saw me head for the bedroom, she would charge in and get up into her bed.
This is no longer the case. NOW, I get summoned, when she is READY. It use to be I picked the time. Understand me, I don't just "jump and run" when I am summoned, but I do have a great laugh over the fact she thinks she is in total control of the cituation. No, I finish making my toast and when "I am finished" I "charge" to the bedroom where I find the cat (MIA) looking out the window trying with all her might to ignore the fact "I have finally come into the room". When I start making the bed she does turn to watch, but with the air of just "moderate interest". By the time I get to the side nearest her bed things take a sudden turn. She goes into some of the most shameless twists and turns you would ever want a cat, even (MIA) go through. If I don't stop what I am doing when I go by her bed, she reaches out and smacks me with her paws. Now, I want you to know I have all the will power in the world, and do not allow such antics to stop me from finishing making the bed, no, I get the job done. (Good for me!)
I quickly return to her and pick up her brush. When I hold it up, she pushes her face into it to start the routine she so loves - getting brushed. Once, it was a fight, now it is a "demand". Not to mention she has her own time table. Bedtime is 9 pm. Brush time is 9 am. I don't know who started her clock, but she has one and it is accurate no matter what time we happen to be on. Once she has been brushed she gets down and goes to her dish to eat. Then it is back into her bed for her day long nap. Yes, she stays in that bed until about 5 pm when once again she gets up, eats, gets a drink and then comes for me to let her out. She goes out and plays for another coupel of hours. When she comes back in around 7 pm she eats, drinks and then comes and sets in my lap for about 30 minutes until she gets too warm then she stretches out a few feet from my chair and goes to sleep. If I am not ready by 9 pm to head for the bedroom, she gives me another scolding as she heads for her bed. I don't need to look at the clock, I know it is 9 pm.
I hate to admit this next part, but being honest as I am I will. No matter what time I decide to go to bed, I do brush her again. Don't you scold me too, it is just one of those things I can't not do. Like a nice hot shower makes going to sleep easier, a good brush relaxes her and she is good for the night. (I think?) At least I don't get scolded again.
In the morning she wants out about 6 am. If I am too comfortable, I snore. That usually keeps her content for a short while, but if she really wants out, I can't fake anything that will keep her quiet. NOW is what she keeps "yowling". For some peace, I eventually get out of my warm bed and let her out. The day repeats itself. Do you understand what I am saying? I need to get a life of my own. How did I ever get into this mess? Why do I continue to be caught up in this madness? Just one reason - I love the little "fluffy panted cat". Her personality keeps me entertained continually, all be it a headache on occassion. No wonder they say a pet is a great thing for the elderly to have. I even have her trained (or does she have me?) that she will let me hug her at least once everyday and give her kisses. No, not like that, I lay my head next to hers and smack away into the air. She thinks I am kissing her, and don't you dare tell her otherwise, we are doing just fine thank you.
Well, enough of this prittle prattle. You have things to do, and if I think a minute I may find something to fill time myself. The cat "MIA" is sleeping in her bed, and guess what, it isn't 9 am and she has been BRUSHED! Whee! Have a nice day! I love you!

Written this 5 day February, 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg

Monday, January 25, 2010

A Bottle of Milk

How times have changed. When I was small, we got milk delivered at the back door. It only came in quart bottles, yes, glass bottles. Any dairy product you could want was available from the friendly "milkman". The bottles were capped with carboard stoppers, that the boys collected. I don't remember why, but they did. When it became obvious that dirt was sure to get in the recess the cap was set in, they began to put a hood over the bottle top. That kept the cap clean, and free from any dirt and germs.
All milk at that time came as "whole milk" only, they didn't have all the varieties we can choose from today. And of course you could order goats milk as well. I believe they even carried orange juice on occasion. You know back then, you could get just about anything in the food line delivered or from a street vender that would come up and down the street in front of the house at least once a week. When I lived in Pennsylvania, they used horse drawn carts. Oh, and they delivered ice. Most people back then didn't have refrigerators. Hard to believe huh!
Well that was just the way it was. You could order cream, but most folks would just "skim" off the cream from their regular milk if they wanted to have whipped cream for something, otherwise you had to shake the bottle before you poured out a glass of milk to make sure the cream was mixed in well. Now the milk is put through processes that mixes the cream in so it does not seperate, or removes it all together to make the milk less fattening. Whipping cream is sold in seperate containers. Oh, and those cartons you see today were not introduced until much later. They have naturally given way to the plastic bottle. Come to think of it I don't think I saw milk in other than quart sizes until the carton was introduced. Then you could get half gallons. Now with the plastic bottles you can get a whole gallon at one time. Surprising how time has put so much difference in just one product.
I don't recall "sour cream" either. I don't remember if it just came into being, or if it was always available. My first experience was with a baked potato at a resturant. Then when Mexican Food became so popular, it seems to have become a staple for a lot of things.
Speaking of Mexican Food, I don't recall seeing it, except at my friends home. She was Mexican, and it was nothing like what you buy at a resturant today. They had tortias but I don't recall ever seeing a Taco. They first came to my attention when we lived in Pico Rivera. Paul was about 7 years old. We had our first experience with them. I didn't know how to make refried beans so we used kidney beans. We thought they were pretty good then, but I don't believe we would touch one made that way today. Then you put the beans "in" the Taco. Now they eat them on the side. Oh, and the rice. I don't remember ever having that until much later. I guess everything just sort of "grows". What would we do without Mexican Food today? Or milk as we know it for that matter.
I don't remember having chocolate milk back when I was small. Then they introduced Ovaltine. I hated the taste back when it was first introduced. It must have grown on me, or my taste changed, because I really enjoy it now. Then there was "Junket". That was the kind of pudding we used to have. Later Mom made pudding with corn starch. I liked it much better. You can still buy "Junket", but you have to shop around to find it. It was Jays' favorite. I never made it for him, he just remembered it from his childhood days at home. I guess his Mother made it for the kids as a treat. Back then there were few treats available.
I hope you are taking notes of the things you like now, because you just may find that by the time you are grand parents, nothing will be the same as when you were a child. Progress means change, and change in most cases is pretty good. It just makes life better, for the most part anyway.
Milkman went from horse drawn wagons to milk trucks, then to oblivion. Delivery at the back door is ancient history. Sorry to say it isn't missed, but it was a good paying job in it's day. I use to love to put the milk bottles out by the back door for the milkman. On occasion Mom would even order something extra and we would leave a note in one of the milk bottles. They always had products on the truck to take care of any requests. You could increase your order of milk, or put a request in for something on a special day. Small thing, but it made a big difference. It was always important to put a note out if you were going away, otherwise, you had spoiled milk on your doorstep when you returned. Such it was when I was a girl - a long, long time ago.

Written this 25th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg

Thursday, January 21, 2010

When did we make a choice, or did we?

This is something that has been on my mind for some time now. Was it in the pre-existence that we managed to find other spirits that we spent time with and developed relationships with that became so desired; a request to be gathered at the same time and place when "our time on earth" came? An interesting thought. We have been told that some spirits were and are being held back until the time when they will do the work needed to usher in the Second Coming of Christ. I believe they refer to them as "Saturdays Warriors".
We certainly understand that all those who have preceeded us were instrumental in bringing about the various Dispensations. They were the ones who were willing to come and do the things most needed to advance the work and plan of the Lord. Maybe they didn't fully understand all the things we do, they were certainly important in paving the way, and continuing families to which we are joined today.
I just heard on TV yesterday someone asking: "just who made the rules?" I don't have any problem answering that, and feeling quite secure in my answer: "God". Think about it. When the earth was made, and prepared for mortals, they came as a pair. One man, Adam and one woman, Eve. They couldn't have had an difficulty figuring out what the proper form of living together was. They were joined as one. It was Adam and Eve. That was the plan, that was the form, that was natural. No question who was the father, nor the mother. If there had been any question the answer was spelled out after they ate of the forbidden fruit. Adam would labor bringing forth food and Eve would labor bringing forth children. Simple, natural, right!
Maybe watching the way the Mortal Children of Adam and Eve began making up families from the beginning can help us? Everyone is left to make their choices. Pair off and continue the mortal families here on earth. I am still curious however. As the children of God have multiplied over the generations and dispensations were todays families chosen before they actually came here?
Did I choose my Dad and Mother? Then, what made my choice good enough that I landed in the right place at the right time so that I would find, or have the Gospel find me? How is it that I above all the other girls who had "eyes" for Jay come up the "winner"? So many variables, kind of scarey really. Yet could I have missed the boat? I wonder? Something to think about.
Did I know there that I would only have two children? Did I know who they would be? In some really wide spectrum I could even wonder, did I know my Grand Children then, had we talked about all the things that were and would happen?
You know I had always wanted a sister. The nearest thing I had to that was Willetta, my brothers wife. What a sweetheart she was. Did I know her before? When I had my own daughter I hoped we would be close and have a bond that was as wonderful as I had hoped having a sister would have been. I haven't seemed to have achieved that magic. You notice I said: "I have never". Something that has been a great disappointment on my part. I know the desire has always been there, but I seem to have been short in directing things in that direction.
Could be part of my eternal progression. Something that will come, but I haven't earned it just yet. Somethings I believe are worth waiting for.
How did I end up a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? Such a far cry from anything I had know in my early years. With all those I knew in school, yet never knew they were LDS, it seems stange that I would end up finding "Mr Right" who was neither active nor interested in the Church. Was it the fact I had to fight my way into activity that has made me faithful? Good question! Would I have been the Latter-day Saint I am today if I had found a faithful partner who would have guided me through those early trials? I wonder! Or, was I the hard head that had to drive the faith in the family and have "Mr Right" tag along until the twilight years to join in the "journey"? Good question.
What makes any of us choose and struggle? Why are we where we are? What has kept us on the path? Where will we really end up? You know they say it isn't over until the "fat lady sings". I am not even sure it will be over when it is "over". It seems to me that a lot more goes on after the "final curtain call". Knowing for sure that what I did before I came here has a great deal more power than I even know about - that will effect "here after". I recall how I was stunned to read in Jays Patriarical Blessing that his name was on the "Lambs Book of Life" before he was born. That ment he had earned his place in the Celestial Kingdom. He had been valiant and walked shoulder to shoulder with Adam in the war in Heaven. Pretty impressive I'd say. Then I stopped to remember that it was only in those twilight years he had fulfilled his Mission and gone to the Temple enough to learn those important things before he passed through that "final curtain". I have seemed to have had to learn so much, and he, it seems had done all that before he even got here. That is not to say I am slow, it just means that both sides of mortality seem to be terribly important - how much choosing did we really do? Was part of those choices being willing to give our faithful stewardship on this side, rather than there? Good question! Or have we given some on both sides?
I have heard it said we would be amazed if we knew here what we knew there. I only hope that I can remember then what I have learned here. It has been such a wonderful thing to me to be able to read and understand things I wouldn't have even thought about before. To set in a Temple Session and after all these years hear something NEW. How does that happen. Like Sister Stout use to tell me: "I am surprised at how much more they have put into the Book of Mormon since the last time I read it". Maybe that is what is ment by "seeing is believing". So much I never saw before and yet when it appears before my eyes I set dumb struck that I never saw it before. Nothing new, just something revealed. Amazing and wonderful.
Well from the title of this "rambling" I wondered when did we make that choice, or did we. I don't believe anything happens by accident, but how much we knew, planned, aided, promoted, or even wanted before we came here is something I shall not know here, but when I do, I am sure I will be just as amazed and full of wonderment as when I set there in the Temple and find that "something new" that becomes clear to my mind and thrills me. In the mean time, I shall plod along, thinking on such things and hoping when the "further light and knowledge" we have been promised finally becomes clear, I will be able to show the thrill that moment brings. Learning is fun. I hope I may go on being "added upon".

Written this 21st day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg

What about those SHOES?

I certainly have had a lot over the years. Wonder how that all started? So do I. Well I may have some idea. When I was "little" Mom said I wore "O" shoe size when I was a year old. I was tiny as you may reacall. I can never really remember being able to find shoes that fit me until I was around 16 years old. What I found were "junk". No style, no color choice, and very little comfort as I recall.
I believe I have covered trying to find high heels when I graduated from Jr. High School. What we finally came up with was something I don't think my Grandmother would have even worn. It wasn't much better when I wanted something for High School Graduation. I finally ended up with a pair of black suede flats. Just what the shortest girl in the Graduating class was looking for, right? I was mortified, but there was nothing I could do about it. At the time I was still wearing a 1 or 1 and 1/2 size shoe. Even kids shoes did'nt have any class back then.
When I went to work, I haunted every shoe store in town. Back then there was one on every corner and in between every block. I finally found the sample shoes they put in the windows were the smallest shoes they made. Size 3. When they had sales of course those shoes were put out for $1.00. My most favorite pair was kelly green suede baby doll toe 3" heels, wow. My foot looked like the shoe sounded. I wore them with a rust colored two piece that was trimmed in mustard yellow. What a site. (one of Jays favorites as I recall). Back then I weighed 95 pounds soaking wet.
There was always a sale at the end of each season. So I would go from shoe store to shoe store and come out with boxes of shoes, all colors, styles and heel heights. I loved it, and so did my pocket book. My second most favorite pair was cocoa brown suede sling back with a closed dutch toe. I wore those shoes until they fell apart. Never have seen another pair like them since. Pitty, they were so cute, and comfortable to boot. Oh, and they didn't have any boot styles back then. Might have been because of the shortage of leather, or just they hadn't come into fashion back then. I doubt I could have worn any anyway. It appears that my legs are too short and my calves are too fat to get any to fit. I have tried a number of times, but with no success.
They have changed the last and size of shoes now, mainly because a great many are made in Europe and the women over there have bigger and wider feet. From going barefoot so much I guess. Same for the shoes that come in from South of the Border and South America.. I notice most styles come in more wide sizes than medium. Pity the poor women like Aunt Olive who wore an AA width. Yes there are people who have such narrow feet.
I think the fact I didn't go bare footed when I was small is the reason my foot didn't widen out. When I was about 3 or 4 I was playing on the lawn in the front yard in my bare feet. I happened to step on a bee that was gathering nectar from the clover in the yard. I never had anything hurt so bad, or cause me more problems that I can recall from my youth - well outside the Croupe I suffered with. My whole foot was sore and puffed up. I undoubtedly had an allergic reaction, but I am not sure they knew what that was back then. The experience woke me up to the fact going in my bare feet wasn't something I wanted to do. I forgot that just once. That was when I stepped into that red hot sand while at the beach camping once. It was both painful and put me off my feet for quite awhile. Those kinds of things you don't soon forget.
Well, I still like shoes. I can't wear the snappy ones like I once did. Arthritis has put a stop to that. I have had a good time of it, so can't really complain. Well, I could, but it wouldn't change anything, so why bother!?
That little girl that couldn't find fun shoes when she was younger made up for it. In fact I can still remember my embarassment when everyone was wearing those cute saddle oxfords. My how I wanted a pair of those. Well, I found a pair - they were rounded toes with brown saddles. Everyone else had the smart pointed toe with black or navy blue saddles. I never could match the styles back then. Now you don't even see them. Too bad - they were sharp! Oh, and the Penny Loafers. I couldn't get a pair of those that would fit either. My foot was just too short and I couldn't keep the darned things on. Ugg!
The one style in heels that I always wanted was Spectator Pumps. I finally got a pair of brown and white, but here again they had that rounded toe. The snappy ones, naturally, had pointed toes. I have a red and white pair now as well as a black patten and white pair - I don't know that I can part with them, but I sure can't wear them either. Arthritis doesn't like the pressure caused by wearing heels. Well I do try them on once in awhile to please my ego, but they go right back in the Shoe Caddy. Maybe one day I will have the heart to let them go, but not just now. Besides, I don't think anyone would love them quite as much as I do!

Written this 21 day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Do Real Men Really Cry?

My Grand Father, Charlie Smith and my brother, Ralph Smith surely did. Both had very sensitive feelings. Grand Dad would cry in the movies more than Grand Mother did. Ralph, well he cried if he thought something was even close to being hurt. Neither of them were thought of less than manly. In fact Ralph jumped out of airplanes and was even qualified as a "glider jumper". That was where the Army lost their largest group of men during the landings on D-Day. Of course Ralph served in the South Pacific and not the European Theatre in WW II.
In the regular stream of things, a man crying seems to have taken on a sign of weakness, when in reality it is far from weakness. Over the years I have met and known a number of men who have no trouble showing their emotions on occasion, none of whom I would classify as weak.
It kind of reminds me of the Prophet Joseph Smith when he expressed the desire to shed his physical body so that his spirit could expand to the size it had developed into. Purhaps a man who has no trouble shedding tears has a very abundant spirit that just squeezes those tears out. Well, it was a thought. Who is to say? I remember a Bishop in Anaheim, Arie Dekker who found it impossible to shake hands with the men he worked with and loved. He always greeted them, much as did the Prophet, with a hug. That could seem to be unmanly as well. I can find no real substance for such thinking. In the Mission Field it was a good practice. In fact when we hit the flu season, it was hard not to hug one another. Love is always so abundant when serving the Lord, it just seems natural to want to convey feelings with a hug.
I am never embarassed by a man who finds his emotions, on occasion, full enough to shed tears. Some of the men I admire most have times when they need to swell to the point that tears flow. Mine flow right along with theirs in total sympathy for their feelings. Oh, it is not uncommon for men to cry at funerals, that is never concidered a weakness. Another reason I can't explain why it would seem less manly to cry when other deep feelings are stirred by everyday experiences.
I don't believe we are ment to supress true feelings. Every emotion is a natural reaction to something that touches us. We get angry when things aren't the way we like. We laugh when things are funny, in fact, we laugh when something happens that makes us nerous. A simple way of carrying off the embarassment we feel. Elation comes when we are excited about something and tears come when we are hurt or sad.
Not having been in some cituations, I haven't experienced what it must be like to have lifes plans altered because of problems. I know Paul has tried to express some of those feelings. He feels like a failure because he hasn't accomplished what the rest of the family has. Yet who is to say the examples he has set may well be the ones we need to help us try harder and be more successful where he was not able to succeed. Not that others in the family have not started down similar paths and been fortunate to have wiser heads to turn the tide and get things back into the proper stream. It is easy to find sympathy where sounder reasoning could be the wisest way to go.
In my own case, I will be forever greatful to a wise Dad who gave great counsel when I thought I knew what was best of me. He didn't try to diswade me from marrying the wrong guy. No, he just told me he hoped the marriage I was so set on would be as good as the one it was going to cost him when he gave his approval. What feather headed teen could argue with such sound wisdom. Happily for me, it was only a few short weeks until I learned the other half of my big dream was not as committed or willing to face hard circumstances. Or when I was not happy in the early stages of my real marriage, he just turned me around and pointed me in the direction I had come from and said: "things will work themselves out." I learned the key word in that counsel was "work". Funny how the simple things are what really mean the most to us.
Well, real men really do cry. Everyone hits low spots and would very easily give in or give up if there were not older and wiser heads around to help steer the fuzzy heads back to a clear path.
We don't need to look at that fella who sheds a tear or two on occasion as weird or weak, no we just have to look back to when something touched our heart or head to the point we teared up. Then is when we hopefully will re-evaluate others feelings and be less judgemental and just a bit more tolerant. Who knows - "there but for the grace of God go I". Anyone of us could tred in the same emotional path, and find it just as hard to keep balance. Sometimes not crying is the harder thing to do. Not letting someone know just how much their actions hurt or make us feel uncomfortable could be every bit as hard. I have had to pass through a number of those moments. I always found crying by myself was more painful. Sharing feelings can be far more worthwhile on all sides. I am greatful the Lord gave us tears. Even more greatful they can mean more than sadness. They can show happiness, sincere feelings and love, yes love. Understanding is important. No, I am never embarassed when I witness a man crying, I find it refreshing to know how deeply feelings go and that there is no problem with letting others know it as well.
My Grand Father was not a big man. He spoke with a clipped English accent and was one of the dearest men I have ever known, and yes, he cried.

Written this 20th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg

Travels I would love to do!

Now that I have pretty well erased much interest in flying again, I guess any travel that might interest me would have to be done in a "slower" form. I love to drive, so I can see myself taking a motor trip to enjoy the beauty of this Country we live in. The trip I recall with the greatest of enjoyment was the one across the country with three freinds when we stopped at the various Temples on our way. You know you see a number of trailers and motor homes while you are on the open road. They make housing more available, but stopping at a Motel, getting your laundry done and a good nights rest close to where you want to be in the morning is pretty good too.
With good company I would love to drive back to the Church History Sites once more. Things have changed so much since I last had that pleasure. In fact I have never been to Vermont. I would like to see some of the early History sites of New England as well. Pennsylvania with the Liberty Bell and Gettysberg. I don't care to see New York City again, once was enough of that, but I would love to see Watson's Glenn again. There is so much beauty across the United States that any of it is worth the time.
You know I have visited Oklahoma and Will Rogers Museum twice, but I wouldn't mind seeing it again. Never enough time to gather in all the things that are out there. The greatest fun for me is to do some checking of what each State has to offer and then lay out a trip that will allow me the chance to check out as much as I possibly can. I don't mind driving 50 miles or so out of my way to see something of Historical value. You know one thing I have always wanted to do is visit the Plantations in the South. That part of our History always fascinated me. Such beautiful homes and lands. Those Southern States are just full of interesting things to see.
Yes, and I would like to see some of Canada as well. Such a vast country and now that I know my Grand Father on my Mothers side was there, and did some work for the Railroad, I would love to see that as well. Can or will I do that? Probably not, but I would love to. A shame I did not have the information sooner, some of the possibility could have been met purhaps.
Yes I would love to attend more Temples. There are more of them to visit now. Each one so different, and yet the people and the Sessions are the same. Making appointments for the smaller ones did not pose a problem in our trip before, so I would hope to be able to do those I missed the next time around. Especially the one at Winter Quarters in Nebraska. We missed it by one day, they were closed for cleaning. You know we enjoyed attending Church in so many places too. All in all it was a great experience.
If I could make such a trip, I would like to have at least three weeks. Planning would take me about a month on the internet and by mail. So many interesting things to look for and so many decisions of what would be best to fit into the time and with ease in driving. You don't want to spend all that much time in the car. Have to have plenty of time to do and see the things along the route as you can.
There are a couple of trips I have seen by Train that would be fun, if they were afforable. One thing about the Train is you can see things as you travel because you don't have to keep your eye on the road. Then the meals are included if you have a compartment, which is really the only way to go if you are on the Train for any length of time. Chair cars are fine for short distances, but terrible for sleeping if you are going any distance. We have always had such good assistance on the Train. Age has it's advantages in that department.
Would I Cruise again? Yes, if I could find a trip that was interesting enough. I am not interested in going any place that would not be colorful. The Islands of the South Pacific might be interesting. I wouldn't mind going around the Hawian Islands by Ship. That would be very colorful I think. If you want the best of all the Islands of course you need to visit the Polenisian (sp) Cultural Center at BYU Hawaii. That way you can see every Island Culture in a natural setting and see the great entertainment each offers.
I think traveling is great fun. I wish I could have done much more of it when I was younger. As it is, I guess I did quite a bit at that. Never enough however. It is always great to get away, and even better to get back home and into your own bed. Which reminds me, that is where I should be right now, it is a quarter to four in the A.M.

Written this 20th day of January 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg