I'm having a bit of a hard time getting inspired now.  I should be able to write a poem about the Hartford Temple being dedicated on my mom's birthday so I'll give it a shot.

Mothers stand like temples
They have a lot in common
they bring us closer to God
unite families
help us see things clearly
comfort us
guide us
point us toward heaven
beautiful inside and out
made of the finest materials.
Their door is always open.
They testify of Christ's love.
Help you return to your Father in Heaven.

Oranges glow
as the sun
Beets, the color of my blood
Carrot fingers
mushroom toes
In the forest how they grow

Here I am 59 years old and still worried about my weight.  If I was talking with my friend I would call her out on it and say you're at the age where you don't have to worry about that anymore.  To be a good grandmother you have to have folds for your grandkids to snuggle into.  But here I was the other day ready to try a high protein diet to shed a quick 5 lbs because, exclamation point, I had gotten up to my holiday weight way before holiday eating even started!  But, Will warned me against it and it does go against the word of wisdom.  And then by chance I came across some articles that led me to a place of peace and I'm sure Heavenly Father sent his Spirit as well to confirm these things  in my mind.  Because I feel completely different about my body right now, different than my whole life.  I just hope this feeling isn't gliding in and gliding out.  Here's my poem about it.

To love your body is a sin
Today you're made to hate your form
What will others think of me
If I am up to a size 10

For me no more!
I'll side with Dove
And give myself
A great big hug!

I'm here to talk to all of us

There is so much of course to like
Instead of all the jigly chub
I'll keep my flub though, just the same
And tell myself I'm not ashamed.

The thought I have that
makes me fly,
"I love my bod,
this outward shell"
This simple thought
Will help me keep
myself so strong.

Will keep me from the pantry shelf
Where things are kept to make it weak
I'll eat and drink the food I love
With just the right amount of no

This is healthy, this feels right
Appreciate my beating heart
My lungs;  balloons fill up with air!
All sight, all sound, all taste, all fair!

I started this poem last night after the Giants beat the Bengals on Monday Night Football.  Seems I always think of my Dad whenever I watch the Giants, our family's favorite football team way before my memories start.  I've passed the tradition down to some of my children which makes me very happy.  Brother Jon and his kids too.  It's fun when we can get together and cheer and put holes in the ceiling and think of Elmer.

My father's knee

a good place to be

when all we felt was sorrow

as we watched our team

get buried.

We suffered toe to toe

As we watched Francis T.

and wide receiver Homer Jones go

 home unceremoniously.

Week after week we'd sit there suffering

cheering loudly, loyally crying

hoping that one week

we'd end up cheering and

happily sighing.

Didn't happen much

But we were diehard fans

Who cares about lunch

 dirty pots and pans

The games were long 

full of disappointment

Giant fans always strong

Ever loyal in our deportment.

He made me a Giant fan
Of the New York Giants see
The sweet memories still fill me
Sundays, always hopeful,
Next to my Dad

On Saturday evening we went out to dinner with Will and Jess.  They picked a nice spot, Cappeletti's in St. George.  It was more of an event that just dinner.  We must have been there at least an hour and a half.  And the price was pretty moderate.  Colorful motif and chairs.  A lively mix of patrons.  Good service and delicious food.  Great company, talking about the election and their take on it.  It was good to hear that neither one of them voted for Trump.  The next day we went to church with them and they made us a fantastic dinner which they lovingly prepared.  We took off at around 4 and made it home safely.  The nice part of the ride home was the front row seat to the super moon dodging in and out of the mountains as we drove along.

Here's a haiku

Playing hide and seek

with the super moon going
eighty was zaney!




Money in the sky
A big giant coin
You can see his head
But not his tail.

Jim and I took a weekend trip down south to Zion's and St. George.  We ended up on the backside of Zions at a trail called Wildcat Canyon Trail.  It is a also a trail leading to the Subway trail which you need a permit for and has slot canyons you need to repel down.  So that was cool to know where that was.  We walked about 5 miles, a three hour hike.  It was flat and full of ponderosa pines.  It seemed like a lot of the trunks were burned but the trees survived.  If there was a fire that burned up trees and killed them they were cleared out of there.  The path was mostly soft sand and grassy fields with the scattered ponderosa.  Then we came to Wildcat canyon and
 great views of many slickrock domes.  We climbed down into the canyon and decided to climb up one of the domes, there was a saddle between two and we decided on that and then continued up to a ridge of sorts.  I wish I had walked across it and up to a slightly higher peak but where we made it to was rigorous enough and gave us a fantastice view to the west.

There's a remedy
for all your ills
Out in the yellow and green hills

The tall and stately Ponderosa
The golden sun-kissed grasses
Waving gently in the breezes

Under our feet
Soft sand, pine cones and rocks
Making their way down into our socks

Tap tap tapping woodpecker
Clouds whipped into horsetails now
You look at the cliff-what! Acow!

We scaled steep loose rock,
Up to the saddle
Granted a better view than Seattle

The Song of the Wild
The Call of the Wild
The Wildness of Zion enlivend till tired.

Today I worked on the poem I wrote yesterday.  I hope you like the finished (as of this moment) product.  Today swimming, lunch, and work are pretty normal.  Well, maybe not I was able to hold and play with Hudson while his dad, one of my best, all-time- favorite workers, worked on a letter of recommendation from me.  The kids are so much better at writing  and its all true so it works.  Hudson is six months old, very fair, happy, wants to be on the move, got 4 shots today, wasn't grumpy yet, scratched my face and was fascinated by the construction going on out back.

Hudson, a name implying greatness, strength and patience
I'm thinking of the river and Indians and settlers
Boats, oarsmen, wars, shipments of supplies
commerce, gateway.  Tall cliffs, large, seagulls,
 passageway to the north, George Washington
 New York City, and patriots.
What a wonderful name.  Wonder why they picked it.