Traditions and Transitions

It’s Christmas Eve, and the rain that is falling now is expected to turn to snow.  Heavy snow.  Until very recently, this would have caused great angst between me and my husband.  You see, my Christmas tradition, from the time I could remember, was to go to Grandma’s house for Christmas Eve.  In the Danish tradition, we had a turkey dinner with all the trimmings.  Dessert was Danish apple cake, beautifully painted marzipan fruits, and other Danish goodies that came out only at Christmastime.  And then, best of all, we opened our presents from Grandma and Grandpa.  These Christmas memories are among my happiest.

When we became adults, my parents became Grandma and Grandpa and the tradition continued.  The only problem came when the weather was stormy.  My very practical husband made it clear many times that he was not happy I insisted on driving to Ogden for Christmas Eve unless the roads were officially closed by the Highway Patrol.  That happened only once in the 33 years we made the trek, but we drove in some pretty treacherous conditions over the years.

All good things must come to an end.  Last year my parents made the decision that our family had become too large for them to accommodate the huge gathering, and frankly, they just didn’t have the energy to do it anymore. 

After I recovered from nostalgia’s punch in the gut, I realized that the timing of their decision was actually very good.  Our son is married; our daughter will be soon, and they need to incorporate their life partners in their Christmas traditions.  As for us, we’ve decided that Christmas Eve will involve a steak dinner and Christmas Candlelight service.  The kids are invited but not obligated.  Tonight it will just be the two of us.  On Christmas morning, our family and friends will join us for Eggs Benedict.  This is our 25+ year tradition. 

When I finally graduate to Grandma status (I have faith it will eventually happen), I suspect we’ll continue to celebrate on Christmas Day.  Our son’s in-laws are of German descent and celebrate on Christmas Eve.  Our daughter’s in-laws-to-be also celebrate on Christmas Eve.  We may move the celebration to one of the grandkids’ houses.  We may not.  We’ll face that transition when we come to it – in the joyful spirit of the one in whose name we celebrate.

Merry Christmas!

Climbing Walls

It wasn’t on my bucket list.  In fact, it wasn’t anything I’d even contemplated doing.  I’ll take photos of mountains “because they are there,” but I have no interest in climbing them.  But climbing is a passion of my daughter and her boyfriend, and they practice every Monday night on the rock wall at the local rec center.

After declining multiple invitations to join them, I accepted last Monday.  Josh was waiting for me at the desk.  He showed me the harness I would be wearing and taught me how to work the locking carabiner that would hold the rope that would keep me from falling off the wall. 

He went on to explain to me that he would “belay,” which meant he would keep tension on the rope at all times so if I slipped I wouldn’t fall very far.  He showed me the belay device, a complicated system that the rope was threaded through to ensure tension.  As I climbed, he would keep the rope taut.  When he let me down he would do so gradually.

In his best Cyndi Lauper, he crooned

If you fall I will catch you, I’m be-lay-ing
Climb after climb

We both laughed.   He taught me the communication between climber and belayer.  “On belay?” I asked him.  “Belay on,” he replied per the script.  “Climbing,” I said.  “Climb on,” he replied, again per the script.  Then I started up.  He told me that I should use my arms to keep myself on the wall and use my legs to advance up the wall.  Easier said than done. 

It was time to face my biggest fear – coming down.  I had only climbed a few feet when I asked Josh to let me down.  I explained that I just needed to know what it felt like.  He obliged.  It was pretty easy.  I relaxed a bit.

He had one of the staff members belay me the second time up so he could climb alongside me.  As we climbed together, he pointed out the best hand and footholds.  I made it past the halfway point before I got tired.  I hadn’t listened.  I had exhausted my limited upper body strength pulling myself up.

By the time I’d come down the second time, my daughter had arrived.  She asked if I would belay her climb – with Josh helping, of course.  I learned the technique – pull the rope, move the rope hand below the securing hand, slide the securing hand up, move the rope hand back, repeat as needed.  Josh looked over my shoulder, but I did it.  I got Lisa to the top and back down again.

As I watched the others climbing, I observed that it would be OK to let go of the wall if I didn’t like where my hands and feet were placed.  I wouldn’t fall.  I saw that the climbers had complete faith in the rope and belay system.  And I realized that I had to come back.  I had to make it to the top.  

Next time – to the top!

Sorry, Martha

This morning, around 8:30 AM, as I am dutifully dusting and vacuuming my house in preparation for this afternoon’s guests – one word rattled around my mind in time to the humming of the vacuum cleaner:  Why? 

Why is it that on the day we’re expected to spend all day in food preparation we are also expected to have our house resemble a showplace?  We seem to be inundated with TV ads, magazine articles, and even social media showing a perfect Thanksgiving celebration.  The Thanksgiving gurus show us tabloid after tabloid of perfectly displayed food, including an uncarved turkey on a platter in the center of the table.  They provide ideas for the most festive of decorations.  And all of this happens in spotless homes – never mind that it snowed last night and every guest will be tracking snow in on their shoes.

Really, folks.  I know how I cook.  I know that there will be food splatters on the kitchen floor, and that there will be no time to clean them up before the guests arrive.  And who carves the turkey at the table, anyway?  I read just last week that one of the gurus actually cooks a second turkey – a “stunt” turkey to sit as centerpiece while the real turkey is carved and served.  Two words:  not happening.

So I hope that our guests today will kindly overlook the stack of dishes overflowing from the sinks as they heap their plates with pre-carved turkey and all the trimmings.  I hope they’ll overlook the less-than-perfect table arrangements as they sit down for an evening of great food, great conversation, and a heaping portion of gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Have You Voted Yet?

My father was involved in local politics when I was growing up.  I remember posting signs, knocking on doors and handing out flyers from the time I was eleven years old.  Dad was elected to two terms on the City Council before being hired as City Manager.  He ran for his final elected position, that of County Surveyor, in 1994.

He won every election he ran in – except one.  Today I want to tell you about the one he lost.

Dad was running for a position on the County School Board.  He and his opponent were both well known in the city.  Dad was City Manager; his opponent was a city police officer.  Dad campaigned well.  His opponent also campaigned well.  In the end the race was decided by three votes.

Three votes!  After Dad had conceded and put that race behind him, several of his friends confessed that, “If I had known the race would be so close I would have voted.”

Your vote counts!  Never believe – not even for a second – that it doesn’t matter whether you vote or not.  In this race, dominated by an ugliness unbecoming our great nation, it’s especially important that you vote.  Don’t like either candidate at the top?  Skip that race.  In Utah the rest of your ballot will be counted.  It says so right on the ballot.

Too late to mail in your ballot?  Drop it off at a polling place.  Or just go to the polling place and cast your vote the traditional way.  Yes, there will be lines.  Take a book.  Or just visit with all your friends and neighbors also coming out to vote.

But vote!  Your vote counts.  And your vote matters.

Goal Setting in Retirement

That day when you look at your spouse and realize that you’ve accomplished everything you set out to accomplish after you retired?  Yeah, that’s happened. 

For those of you whose goal is to retire, be advised:  retirement is a doorway, not a destination.  When we retired we knew we would buy a trailer and work as campground hosts for five years.  During this time we would continue to become totally debt-free by reinvesting most of our rental income back into the properties.

Fast forward four years, five months, and three days, and here we are.  We decided to give up camp hosting after the summer of 2015 and learned that we quite enjoy camping without cleaning toilets.  All our rental properties are paid for.  Our hard work helping our son and daughter-in-law plan and execute their wedding culminated in a beautiful October 1 celebration.   And we have set no additional goals.

So now what do we want to do?  Travel?  Downsize?  Buy a summer home (or in our case, a winter home)?  Just for fun, I looked through an attempt at a “Bucket List” written in 2004 (eight years before we retired, and three years before we started calling them Bucket Lists).  There are 33 items on the list. 

#1 is to write and publish a novel. I’m working on it.  I’ve been working on it since 2012.  I’m on Chapter 31. 

#2 is to own two condos – one in SLC and one someplace warm.

Of the remaining 31 items, 13 are places I want to travel to (2 accomplished), 6 are things I’d like to do with my time (2 accomplished), 2 are things I’d like to learn, 3 are places I’d like to sing (2 accomplished), 2 are places I’d like to volunteer (1 accomplished), 2 are items I’ve since decided I never want to do, and the rest are pretty random .  Things like owning another pug, giving the kids nice weddings, and running a 5K.  Yes, I did write 5K.  How was I to know what an avid runner I would become?   So far I’ve accomplished 11 ½ of the 33 items on my list.

Just for fun, I shared the list with my husband.  He agreed with me that traveling more and trading in the big house for two smaller houses were ideas worth considering.  Maybe it’s time to transform these from the bucket list to actual goals that we can work on together.

Carrot vs. Stick

At the height of the burst of the housing bubble and the “too big to fail” debacle, I worked for what was then the 8^th largest bank in the U.S.  At the time, Wells Fargo was one of the good guys.  We knew that lending money to people who couldn’t afford to pay it back was bad for business, and according to those I worked with who knew the mortgage business, we turned away a lot of money because of this.  We paid back the “bailout” money.  And we grew to be the 2^nd biggest bank in the U.S.

Fast forward eight years and the shocking revelation that so many Wells Fargo bankers created fraudulent accounts in order to meet sales goals.  5300+ were fired.  The head of Retail Banking retired.  And just a few days ago, CEO John Stumpf announced his immediate resignation. 

I am saddened by the fact that the company who treated me very well as an employee did not treat the customers who keep the bank in business quite as well.  And I’m more saddened for the Retail bankers, most of them honest and hardworking, who are likely taking the brunt of the fallout.  And I can’t help but wonder…

First – a disclaimer.  I’ve never worked in Retail banking.  The hypothesis I’m about to put into words is mine alone.  And it is this:  Wells Fargo Bank used to have a wonderful reward for high performing employees called the Sales and Service Conference.  Salespeople earned their way to this conference by meeting and exceeding sales goals.  Service people like me earned their way by being recommended by other departments for exemplary service.  The conference was an honor to attend – and a lot of fun!

My first Sales and Service Conference, held in the Bahamas was themed, A Culture of Legendary Excellence. I met a phone banker who was attending for her seventh time.  She worked hard every year to meet her sales goals and was rewarded.  But there were many more first-timers like me who were awestruck at the way Wells Fargo leadership honored us “little people” who were the “heart and soul of the company.”  The culmination of a long weekend of recognition and inspiration was walking across the stage to receive a medal from the CEO.

I attended two more times.  The last time I attended was in 2008.  John Stumpf presented my medal.  I shook his hand.  He seemed genuinely pleased to be there.  Later that year the company announced that it would be doing away with Sales and Service Conference, as it appeared to the outside world to be a boondoggle for highly paid executives.  In the climate of bailouts, buyouts, and out and out failures, no financial institution should get away with such frivolity.

That frivolity, however, seemed to be a significant incentive for bankers to meet their sales goals.  Sure, the executives were there, but they were there to encourage, support and honor those who had excelled at their jobs.  I wonder – in making the decision to do away with the conference, did we lose a part of our “culture of legendary excellence?”  I wonder – would the now-fired bankers have turned to fraud to meet sales goals if instead of threats such as reduced compensation or even job loss, an incentive were on the table?

I wonder – but I’ll never know.  

The Arapeen OHV Trail System

Blue Lake on the Arapeen OHV Trail System

We just completed a wonderful six weeks at Pine Mountain, located east of Spring City on a gateway road into the Arapeen OHV Trail System. This set of roads and trails, many open to 4X4 vehicles as well as off-road vehicles, is located in the Manti-LaSal National Forest.  The roads and trails are maintained by the National Forest Service and are well marked with signs bearing the road number.  System maps are available – free – at the Forest Service Offices in Ephraim, Ferron, Price, Moab and Monticello.

The main road linking the trails is #1, Skyline Drive.  It’s classified as a 4X4 road, and in certain sections you can drive a 2 wheel drive vehicle over it, but great deal of the road is pretty rutted.  I’m picturing the first sunny day in March, an old 4 wheel drive truck, a six pack of Keystone Light, and “damn the mud and snow – full speed ahead.”  That’s probably not what happened, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 

The trails are rated like ski runs –green for easy, blue for intermediate, black for advanced.  The color code is on the actual signs marking the trails.  But look carefully at the colors on the map. We learned the hard way that a green line for a trail on the map doesn’t mean it’s easy.  It means it’s restricted to ATVs 50” or less in width.  They take this width restriction very seriously.  The gate to enter the trail is just a bit wider.  Seriously.  We cleared one of the gates by ½ inch on either side.  The gate is also stationary.  If you don’t fit through, you don’t ride the trail.  Case closed.

Most of the ATV-only trails are two-track, alternating through dense forest and open meadows.  The Reeder Canyon trail and the other road #5 (still confused) had steep uphill and downhill sections punctuated by Forest Service speed bumps – actually culverts to divert running water.  There are several reservoirs along the trail, many with fishing and camping opportunities. 

We rode in this area more than a dozen times during our stay at Pine Mountain and still have trails and loops we have yet to ride. Interested?  You can download the trail map here.  Happy Trails!