A Perfect Day In Zion
February 28, 2004 – “A Perfect Day in Zion.”
Marlene and I awoke this morning to the happy sounds of snow ploughs scraping off the six to eight inches of very wet, heavy snow that had accumulated on 800 East during the night hours. We both lay in bed reading (I, “Das Buch Mormon” and Marlene “One Corpse Too Many” that she read about in a book she purchased at the D.I. that lists books that build character). After an hour or so, I made me a bowl of Cream of Wheat and slurped it down along with a couple of slices of my famous homemade bread. Marlene drank a glass of some ground up fruit. We then started working on our genealogy and family history project, creating file folders, filing odds and ends of information that we’ve accumulated for years. We made a couple of updates to our PAF information. I searched out the information that clarified just how we are connected to John D. Lee, of Mountain Meadow Massacre fame. (Not to worry—a distant cousin in the Bennett line married his great grand daughter—so none of us are related by blood). All the while it continued to snow.
Soon, my elderly, partially blind friend called to see (I guess “hear” might be more appropriate) if I could give her a ride to the doctor’s office. I said yes and then went out and shoveled the snow. I was joined in a few minutes by Marlene—who had to use a square blade garden shovel because our other snow shovel is wired to our lawn sprinkler in the back so no water will get on Mrs. Dickman’s Pfizer’s. Shortly thereafter I left—in the snowstorm—to pick her up. I dropped her at the doctor’s and returned home to continue with the office work. A couple of hours later my friend called to inform me she was finished at the doctor’s. I picked her up and took her home—in the snowstorm. She lives up near the temple. It was a little hairy getting down the hill, but because I was cautious and slow I made it down the hill and to our home—almost. As I was turning on 800 East by Albrechtsen’s, a funny thing happened. The Civic’s wheels didn’t turn when I turned the steering wheel, and I ended up in Albrechtsen’s gutter, unable to get out. Not to worry; I borrowed Udell’s shovel, cleaned the snow from under the tires and with the help of Udell and a citizen in a pick-up, I was back on the street in about fifteen minutes—still snowing.
I love the snow. It was a beautiful day, and I had the desire and intention to go on my regular walk—in the snow. So, having gotten the car safely back home, I pulled on my rubber boots and took off, all the while listening to “Prairie Home Companion” on my radio. It was like an out-of-body experience. Walking along in the beautiful white snow, hardly a soul on the road, white, glistening snowflakes gently falling and Marne Nixon, a guest on “Prairie” who was the voice for Audrey Hepburn in “My Fair Lady,” Natalie Wood in “West Side Story,” and Deborah Kerr in “The King and I,” singing selections from these movies. Feeling the spirit due to the down home music of “Prairie” and its buttermilk biscuits, as well as basking in the glow of having just had Christian service rendered to me by a good friend and neighbor, and feeling like this is just about the greatest place in the world to live, I seized an opportunity to render help myself. I came to a crossroads on Bountiful Blvd and about 300 South. I noticed a car fishtailing down the hill from above me. I also noticed a couple of cars on Bountiful Blvd approaching the intersection, so I dutifully ran up the hill and motioned the lady to stop her car. Of course she couldn’t and I detected as she slid by me into the intersection a look of helplessness as well as “if you’re going to help, why don’t you stop the cars on the level Boulevard instead of me fishtailing down the hill. My initial, mortal thought was, “see if I help you again,” but being full of the spirit, I quickly repented and thought to myself, “why didn’t I stop the other cars--duh?” Well, no matter. The other cars had wisely slowed down at the intersection, and everyone went their way in safety while the snow continued to fall. After about an hour and a half, “Prairie Home Companion” was in its last fifteen minutes and I was back home shoveling (for the second time) snow in the driveway. I thought, “what a great day.” Finished with the shoveling, I went inside to be greeted by Marlene who had just completed making a large crock-pot full of split pea soup. I thought, “what a great wife.” Just then I remember that exactly one year ago today I was in the Radio Therapy Clinic in Atlanta, Georgia having my catheter removed, thus completing the second step of the procedure that began just one day earlier on February 27, 2003. I thought to myself, “what a great life.”
Marlene and I awoke this morning to the happy sounds of snow ploughs scraping off the six to eight inches of very wet, heavy snow that had accumulated on 800 East during the night hours. We both lay in bed reading (I, “Das Buch Mormon” and Marlene “One Corpse Too Many” that she read about in a book she purchased at the D.I. that lists books that build character). After an hour or so, I made me a bowl of Cream of Wheat and slurped it down along with a couple of slices of my famous homemade bread. Marlene drank a glass of some ground up fruit. We then started working on our genealogy and family history project, creating file folders, filing odds and ends of information that we’ve accumulated for years. We made a couple of updates to our PAF information. I searched out the information that clarified just how we are connected to John D. Lee, of Mountain Meadow Massacre fame. (Not to worry—a distant cousin in the Bennett line married his great grand daughter—so none of us are related by blood). All the while it continued to snow.
Soon, my elderly, partially blind friend called to see (I guess “hear” might be more appropriate) if I could give her a ride to the doctor’s office. I said yes and then went out and shoveled the snow. I was joined in a few minutes by Marlene—who had to use a square blade garden shovel because our other snow shovel is wired to our lawn sprinkler in the back so no water will get on Mrs. Dickman’s Pfizer’s. Shortly thereafter I left—in the snowstorm—to pick her up. I dropped her at the doctor’s and returned home to continue with the office work. A couple of hours later my friend called to inform me she was finished at the doctor’s. I picked her up and took her home—in the snowstorm. She lives up near the temple. It was a little hairy getting down the hill, but because I was cautious and slow I made it down the hill and to our home—almost. As I was turning on 800 East by Albrechtsen’s, a funny thing happened. The Civic’s wheels didn’t turn when I turned the steering wheel, and I ended up in Albrechtsen’s gutter, unable to get out. Not to worry; I borrowed Udell’s shovel, cleaned the snow from under the tires and with the help of Udell and a citizen in a pick-up, I was back on the street in about fifteen minutes—still snowing.
I love the snow. It was a beautiful day, and I had the desire and intention to go on my regular walk—in the snow. So, having gotten the car safely back home, I pulled on my rubber boots and took off, all the while listening to “Prairie Home Companion” on my radio. It was like an out-of-body experience. Walking along in the beautiful white snow, hardly a soul on the road, white, glistening snowflakes gently falling and Marne Nixon, a guest on “Prairie” who was the voice for Audrey Hepburn in “My Fair Lady,” Natalie Wood in “West Side Story,” and Deborah Kerr in “The King and I,” singing selections from these movies. Feeling the spirit due to the down home music of “Prairie” and its buttermilk biscuits, as well as basking in the glow of having just had Christian service rendered to me by a good friend and neighbor, and feeling like this is just about the greatest place in the world to live, I seized an opportunity to render help myself. I came to a crossroads on Bountiful Blvd and about 300 South. I noticed a car fishtailing down the hill from above me. I also noticed a couple of cars on Bountiful Blvd approaching the intersection, so I dutifully ran up the hill and motioned the lady to stop her car. Of course she couldn’t and I detected as she slid by me into the intersection a look of helplessness as well as “if you’re going to help, why don’t you stop the cars on the level Boulevard instead of me fishtailing down the hill. My initial, mortal thought was, “see if I help you again,” but being full of the spirit, I quickly repented and thought to myself, “why didn’t I stop the other cars--duh?” Well, no matter. The other cars had wisely slowed down at the intersection, and everyone went their way in safety while the snow continued to fall. After about an hour and a half, “Prairie Home Companion” was in its last fifteen minutes and I was back home shoveling (for the second time) snow in the driveway. I thought, “what a great day.” Finished with the shoveling, I went inside to be greeted by Marlene who had just completed making a large crock-pot full of split pea soup. I thought, “what a great wife.” Just then I remember that exactly one year ago today I was in the Radio Therapy Clinic in Atlanta, Georgia having my catheter removed, thus completing the second step of the procedure that began just one day earlier on February 27, 2003. I thought to myself, “what a great life.”
posted by Melvyn Bennett | 10:01 PM
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