Easy Street

Livin' on Easy Street is not always what its cracked up to be. Life can be pretty hard on Easy Street. Keeping up with school work to get my bachelors degree in Telecom while working full time setting tile, working up estimates, ordering tile and keeping up on paperwork is a lot to do. I also have a family that wants to spend time with me, church callings and gathering firewood so Angela can keep the home fires burning in the winter. (lately the temperature has been dropping to zero at nights here). Then there is the honey-do list, oh boy! How do we keep up with it all? So whenever I hear a song or read an article that refers to wanting a life on Easy Street, I wonder if they know what they are wishing for? Don't get me wrong, I love my life here and thank God daily for his bounteous blessings, but it is not easy to keep up with.

My Dad and Hero

This week has been a time of reflection for me with the passing of my Dad. I want to remember all of the times that we spent together. He was a simple man that valued family above all else. Honesty, integrity and hard work are attributes that he taught by example. I have tried to model those same attributes as well, though I fall short of the courage and steadfastness that he showed for things that he was convicted to. I will miss him greatly, but he will always be with me in my heart.

At a young age I went exploring with him and my siblings, in the Uintah Mountains of Utah. We had a favorite place that we would hike to and camp. It was on the Dry Fork of the Weber River. Dad taught us how to build a lean-to shelter to sleep under and a cache to keep supplies dry and safe. He also taught us how to fish from the river with a piece of fishing line and a fly tied to the end of a stick. We would help him build trails. He was very good at laying out a trail with a gradual grade cut into a side hill. Those trails are very well worn today, adopted by countless game that use them. I take great satisfaction in hiking them, remembering the many hours that we spent working on them over the years. We would also hunt for deer in the same area. I hunted with him for a couple of years, each time we came very close to getting a shot at a buck, but the deer were very quick and cunning. I remember one year we organized a good drive and I was able to shoot a two-point buck. As we were preparing the animal to pack it out he joked, "You just had to go and ruin the hunt didn't you?" I realized then that the object was to have a good time together hunting more than it was to bag an animal. Dad taught us to respect the wilderness and the animals, always leaving the woods in a better condition than we found them. He taught us true ecology, how every living thing has a purpose. Animals were never to be hunted for the sport of it, but for subsistence. I am sure that he killed a fair number of deer and elk over the course of his lifetime, but never had a trophy mounted on the wall for display. To him that was disrespectful and boastful. Dad was not a man that boasted his triumphs in life. Those simple lessons taught while in the woods were lessons about life and how to live it well.

God be with you Dad until we meet again.