I’m eating a gigantic cookie for breakfast. It looks like those big pink Mothers brand cookies you buy at Mavrick and other gas stations, the ones where, when you look at the nutrition information on the back, it tells you it only has 200 calories, but that’s only for one “portion,” which turns out to be maybe 1/4 of the cookie. I made a bunch of these cookies, and wrapped them up and put them in the freezer, so Dad could take them in his lunches. But I discovered (like frog and toad) that you can take them out, and eat them for breakfast. They’re very good.
Dad spent three days in Virginia, where he went to his 40th year high school reunion, and hung out with his brother. He flew home Sunday morning, and when I picked him up at the airport, he seemed to have a serious case of jet lag or time warp or something. But later on, after we went to Church, he turned back into his old cheerful self again. At work, he’s back to driving busses, instead of sitting in an office. When his trial month ran out, he told them he really preferred driving. Sure, he was making more money in management, but he just didn’t like being shut up in an office all day (and having to write booklets and go to meetings.) And whatever suits him, suits me.
Friday night I went to Nora’s book club at the cabin. It was a blast. They had read “And Then There Were None,” by Agatha Christie. And they talked about it, in the dark, around the campfire. They’re all very bright and thoughtful. About six of them slept over, and the rest left for home, about two in the morning. What a group! There’s no stopping the fun. For the ones who stayed over, Nora fixed a great breakfast (Kim’s German pancakes), and then a couple of us hiked the little loop. Most of the fall colors have faded, but it was a beautiful morning.
Speaking of fall colors, Sharon reports that Michigan is absolutely beautiful now, with yellows and oranges and reds. It’s the thing, there, that you drive around the in country and buy apple cider and donuts, and go to fairs. There are also pumpkin patches where you go in and pick your own. Of course we have that, if you want to go to a busy street corner–it’s not way out in the country.
If you check out the main page of ackerson.org, you can see that Tom has put up a whole new batch of pictures, from conference weekend. All the grandchildren look spectacularly cute. And on the main page, next to where it says “Christy’s Blog,” I’m going to have Tom add another link, to “other family letters,” because my brothers and sisters are all sending out family letters by e-mail now. I’ll put them under the new link, and then you can read all their latest news. I couldn’t possibly condense it all on my own.
Sunday afternoon, in church, Kara McGettigan was sitting between the two of us, drawing cats. She asked me the name of that little gray kitten we had, and I told her “Mystic.” Then she said, what about that other cat you don’t have any more?” I said, “Scarlett . . . Ethyl?” She shook her head. She said, “You know, that brown one, that was half lion.” Finally I figured it out. “Ramona!” She drew a picture of Ramona with a witch. I asked her if Ramona was afraid of the witch, and she said, “No, Ramona has power over the witch. She treats it like a dog.” So, here’s a question for Monica, “Does Ramona have power over witches?” You can give us a report after Halloween.
Jeanne’s dad, Leon Hartshorn, has written his life story, and I’m editing it right now. It’s really interesting. He taught seminary and institute first, and then religion at BYU, and they lived in Grantsville and Boise and California and Hawaii, before they finally settled in Orem, where Jeanne met Richard. Brother Hartshorn published a series of books, “Great Stories from the lives of . . . . ,” about eleven books in all. And he also served as a mission president. And I think he met every general authority there ever was. Anyway, it’s lots of fun. I’m nearly done.
Thanks for all your phone calls and e-mails and visits and letters (Paul only) and love.