MARK WON SECOND PLACE IN THE STATE SCIENCE FAIR

This is our grandson, Mark. His science fair project made it to state--held at the conference center at BYU.

He measured solar panel's collecting power by how they were positioned. It was more technical than that. I'm a non technical woman. Mechanical things rust out and quit working in my presence. Cars stall--but first they make funny noises that no man has heard before. Then they stall and have to be towed. Cars never stall or make funny noises for Phil. Mark will probably lead a charmed life, like Phil, because he might know what to do when cars make funny noises and stall and cars simply can't stand anyone knowing what to do. That's why they pick on me. Mark will be a genius of car noises and stalling problems, I just know it. Cars will stall for his wife. That's how it goes.

He found that it does make a difference how the solar panels are positioned! And when asked if he would install solar panels he said if they didn't cost so much he would.

Some of his important wires and measuring stuff. Way too technical for his grandma. I'll bet some of this stuff came right from under the hood of a woman's stalled car, right after it made funny noises.

Here he is conducting his experiments.

And indeed he was not only considered but he took second place in his division, which was: Physical Science--Physics. Congratulations Mark!

Mark is telling his grandpa something very important. I'm not sure his grandpa could hear over the noise of all those kids. They had neat things for the kids to do when they weren't manning their exhibits. Rock climbing, a magician, and here Mark is waiting in line for the Flight Simulator. When asked if he wanted to be a pilot after "flying" a plane he just shrugged his shoulders.

Congratulations to Mark who is redefining reality.

And besides all the technical stuff he's a nice kid and his grandpa and I adore him. Who wouldn't?

Maybe he will put himself through college by installing solar panels, who knows? Or maybe he will be able to diagnose car problems just by listening to the funny noises. That could make him rich.

SPAGHETTI WARS PLANNED FOR THANKSGIVING

This is the year everyone goes elsewhere else for Thanksgiving and so we have been invited to go to Taylor and Sharee's house. This is what she said in an email today:

"We can laugh and throw spaghetti at the cats or just put their heads in socks and watch them try to get out. At the very least it will be laugh therapy. "

Now, I ask you, how could things be better than that?

One year we were at their house for Thanksgiving. The weather was like September. My dad came up to spend Thanksgiving with us and we sat on the back porch, in the sun with him. Dad's gone now. He lived seventeen years after Mom died and he took such good care of us, his adult children. How I miss him. We all miss him.

I don't know if it's the same year or not but one year we were at Taylor and Sharee's house and I bought Silly String for every member of the family. I told them to come out back--it was warm so maybe it was the same year. Some of the parents weren't coming so I nagged and said at least bring your cameras--of course, no one did so there are no photos. Finally everyone was there and I "armed" them.
The Silly String flew. The laughter bubbled up in explosive bursts. It was one minute of craziness. If I remember right I was covered with every color. I could hardly see out of the tangled mess.

One grandson couldn't get his silly string to work. He was simply too little. Every one's canister was empty but Mark's. He kept saying in a little voice, "I can't do it," while the frenzy was in full force all around him.

When everyone's Silly String canister was empty, Tricia--generous girl that she is--said, "Here Mark, let me help you." She picked him up and the two of them sprayed all of us, laughing like two happily demented people. I can still see the two of them, spraying the last burst of colored goop. We were too startled to do anything but just stand there and take it.

Sometimes Thanksgiving's aren't traditional. Sometimes they are extraordinary!

Here's hoping your Thanksgiving--and ours--is one of those extraordinary ones. Or one with someone you love, sitting in the sun, talking and storing up a feeling of peace you can draw upon in years to come.