Dear Kids,
     Dad and I had our last-of-the summer cabin siding work party over the weekend. Translated, that means we nailed up our last batch of logs, until next year. We’re about 75% done. You can see it all at ackerson.org. I know I’ve been consumed with the project for several weeks now, so it will be nice to go on to other things.
      Did you all hear that Ned Winder died? The obituary said it was heart failure. He hasn’t looked good for the last several months, but I sort of figured he would live forever, anyway. Dad and I didn’t go to the viewing or the funeral, because we knew that thousands of people would be coming from great distances, and we have our own good memories of him. The funeral was in the stake center, and there were TV’s in every classroom, and still, that wasn’t enough. I knew it would be mobbed.
      Remember how I said I killed 283 hornets? Well, their relatives got revenge. It was out in the field by the cabin, where I accidentally stepped in one of their nests. They went after me, and chased me back to the cabin, and inside. I grabbed some bug repellant, and sprayed down my face and arms, and they finally backed off. But they got me good in quite a few places. My upper lip swelled up until I looked like Homer Simpson, and it took a week to completely go away.
      Dad has a surprising new assignment at UTA–they’ve pulled him into management, temporarily, to rewrite a training manual. They gave him a desk and a computer and a palm pilot and a cell phone. He goes to meetings and sits in on training sessions. When he told me all this, I was flabbergasted. He said he’s the best they’ve got. I guess they know he has a college degree. I said, “Who’s going to be your editor and proof reader?” He said he’s it. I’m pretty sure he’ll bring things home for me to look over. He said nobody else would know the difference. So now he’s working 8 to 5 in an office. I don’t know how long he can do it without going berserk.
      Last Monday morning, while Dad and I were working at the cabin, Donna called us on her cell phone. She and Bevan were at the top of Timp! They had started out at 5 am, and they were at the top before 8. They must have really hoofed it! She said there were hundreds of people on the mountain. I guess everybody realized it was the last good weekend. Probably the only good one. There was still a lot of snow, and Donna told me later, they had to be careful coming down. But guess who they ran into? John Patterson and Cindy! He, of course, wanted to know who Bevan was, a boyfriend, husband, what? Donna said he wasn’t her husband. Later, Donna had to tell Bevan the whole story of John Patterson’s misdemeanors, and that, of course, led to the story of Jacob, and Donna’s patriarchal blessing, and that whole strange affair. By the way, John Patterson has been hired as city manager of Ogden. The media called it second-in-command to the mayor, but John, in an interview, called it city manager. Good for him. Go, John. (As in, “go to Ogden, OK?”)
      They’re digging up all the ground around our Church, but I don’t know why. (Maybe they announced it in Church last Sunday, when we were out of town.) All the grass is gone, and most of the shrubs, and they’re hauling away dirt, for a couple of feet down. Maybe it’s contaminated. I’ll keep you posted.
      Hey Paul, I’ll send the stuff you need. I’ll get to it right away, promise. I’m glad you’re so busy. Keep up the good work. Go for the gold. (Oh, sorry.)
      Hope you’re all doin’ great and lovin’ it! Mom