Station Wagons

Ok Kids,

I want to tell you the story of two blue stations wagons. You may not remember what station wagons are, There are not too many of them around. Station wagons are what moms and families drove before SUVs were invented, They were kind of a competitor to minivans. Ultimately, families transitioned to minivans and suvs in the 90s.

But in the 80s, station wagons were where it was at. They would be like a car with 4 doors, but then instead of a trunk it would be more seating. Kinda like a hatch back except big enough to fit a boat in. If you were lucky there was a rear facing seat for kids to sit in. From back there they could wave at cars, make faces out the window, and smash groceries with their feet. Those were the days.

Anyway. We had two station wagons that I remember, one was an Oldsmobile. It should have been newsmobile, i would be more liking a new car. not some crappy old one. Well this car ended up getting parked. My dad bought a Diesel Buick that could fit 5 people in seat belts! that was amazing, only three of us had to sit in places. If i recall, the Girls Sat up front with mom, and golden either sat in the floor where our feet were supposed to go, or he would sit up in the back window. But the reasons this Diesel Buick was amazing are the following: air conditioning, vinyl roof, power windows, air conditioning, and an FM radio (that we were not allowed to listen to) With a Tape deck.

I don't recall the circumstances that allowed us to get such a luxurious vehicle. But man was It sweet. I remember that we took that car to the Portland Temple Open House. I had a birthday in the hotel, and I got an Ice Cooler (Igloo) for scout camp, and that was the first time I saw Anti Mormon Protesters. On the way to Portland, the Vinyl started to peel back as we were driving down the road. I remember using duct tape and some kind of glue to hold it in place. Man that was a sweet car.

Anyway. Back to the station wagon. The little blue one did not have a rear facing back seat. It was smaller than the Buick, did not have ac. So it got parked. Never driven. I don't know if it had problems (Most our cars did re:maleficent car faeries).

It was Christmas Eve. We had all the cousins to our house, There was snow on the ground. It was cold outside so the cousins were playing inside. Someone knocked on our back door. There was a bald man, a woman, and two small children. I recognized them from farm work in the summer. I think the man was a hired hand for one of the neighbors, in the winter there was no work. He explained to dad that his car had broken down and was wondering if he could help.

My dad invited the family in to the house. They got food, we continued activities while dad got in his truck with the man and a tow rope. I think they towed the car to the house. It was in bad shape. It was broken beyond compare. this man was crying. My dad said, "you can have that blue car" He went over, found the keys (we always kept them on the floor) Started the car up. He went into the house and found the title and gave it to him. He then went upstairs and took two presents for the girls from the pile to be given to my sisters.

He then Said merry Christmas. He did all of this without anyone in the house knowing. Or at least, i don't think anyone noticed.

I am telling this story because it was a memory of my dad. We always had crap cars, crap trucks, nothing ever ran. except the Buick and wierdly the blue station wagon. I don't know why he parked a "cool car" (quotations for sarcasm) for the Buick. But, he was able to help someone out.

The second station wagon was also blue, a little newer. I don't know why we had it, but I was about 14 or 15. My dad was out harvesting wheat. The field was dry, driving on dry straw is like driving on wet asphalt. It is easy to spin donuts. My dad told me to move the station wagon to the other side of the field. When he had turned his Combine around, I took it as a chance to spin some Donuts in the straw. I revved that bad boy up to like 35 and started spinning. I wasn't paying attention to the massive wheel rut/ditch. The car spun out and the back end hit the ditch and bounced it so the car was straddling the ditch. I am lucky i didnt flip. But now i was stuck, I couldn't go forward, I couldn't go back wards,  Best I could do was go get dad. He said, "how did you do that" Now kids don't ever lie to your parents.
"I have no idea,"

Anyway, I love you kids. This COVID thing has me from Really scared to Anxious about the future, to Anxious about our health, to sometimes just wishing it would come and get over with.

Yall are my second greatest gifts. my first is your mom.

Not Judging

Hey kids, I want to tell you a story

all about how,

My life got flipped, turned upside down.

just kidding, that was fresh prince.

So, I did want to tell you a story about Not Judging and Charity.

Growing up I heard a lot of people talk about how we should only give to the homeless if they weren't going to use it for drugs, and you are better to give to a food pantry, or the church. I remember Smart, and Good People, (caps for emphasis) told me that I was making the homeless problem worse by giving money. "they will never get a job" or "there are better resources for food and clothing" and "theyre just going to use it for drugs" And as a young man, then young adult, then just adult, i would give a dollar or two and think i was helping. But i had an experience that changed my life.

I want to Tell this story to you. And I will make up this guy's name.

So John was homeless. He was a carpenter at one point but became an alcoholic and his life fell apart. He lived in Galveston and panhandled for money and booze.  He had skills to work, but crippled with alcoholism he couldn't. One night he came in for something. I saw him several times per week. He would usually get a change of cloths and sandwich. One night, I had more time than patients so I sat with him.

"John, Im here to help. WHere you sleeping tonight?"

"I have a place behind the Strand"

"What kind of food do you eat?"

"Theres a gas station where i can get a burrito for $1.29"

"Eat any fruits or veg?"

"WHy are you asking me these &$^#% questions?"
"Well, I am trying to get an idea of if i need to give you some thiamin/folic acid, or if you will take a multivitamin if i prescribe it."

"Oh"

"How long can you go without alcohol before getting the shakes."

At this point he sat up and looked at me.

"I sleep behind the strand so that when I wake up, i can go drink the beer that people throw out, I can drink those before getting the shakes, Then I head out to pan handle."

Let me tell you something. Alcoholism is a disease. One that you can die if you are too drunk. And one that you can die from withdrawl. So, this guy, John, if he goes long enough, he will start to get the tremmors, if it goes on longer, he can get hallucinations, seizures and death.

To combat this, he gets up in the morning and drinks TRASH BEER. This man isnt eating garbage, he is literally drinking it.

This guy will die if not for the help of people giving him money. It supports him, but his disease as well, There is not a cure until his circumstances change.

When you judge or withhold charity, you can put someone else at risk. I am not saying give to everyone. I am saying not to judge or withhold charity.

This John was a carpenter, successfull, his wife died of cancer. He had a hard time coping, he drank to deal with it because he was a working man, didnt need a doctor. He lost his wife, then his buisness, then his home. In Les Miserable there is a man looking into a house filled with criminals and thieves, and as he looked in he had compassion and charity and said "Who of us does not get injured when we fall."

My point is this. Charity is the pure love of christ, you should have it for everyone. Do not withhold because of your judgement.

My last point is this: dont start drinking, you never know what is going to happen to you.

Judge not lest ye be judged.

then read Jacob 2:17-22

Kids I love you and am so proud of you.

This will be easier for some of you than for other. Emmy already gives her heart to everyone, and she may need to pull back a little.

You are my joys.

Just A Thought on Refugees

Ok So today kids, I need to tell you a little bit.

I am writing this at work. I just took care of a 34 year old that is not doing well. This COVID is a real thing. I pray he survives the night.

So, here's the deal. A few years ago there were a ton of refugees leaving middle east contries controlled by ISIS. They were flooding into other countries in Europe. People had fear that immigrants would bring terrorism. Others had concerns that it would bring crime. THere are some people in all contries that wanted to help, and some that didnt want to. I understand the desire to help humanity and want to alleviate suffering, but at the time there was a lot of terrorism. The third feeling was that 'stay in your own country and fight for your rights.'

I am not here to tell you what to do. But I will say this: Charity is not just for the nice people of the planet, anyone is willing to help kind good people. True charity is caring for the miserable, and wretched. And instead of finding an excuse why you dont want to help people or a certain kind of people, you should be looking for what you can do. Christ was accused of being a wine bibber. I think that means that he associated more with people that needed help, than those that felt like they had their lives together.

While I was reading Mosiah today I had a few thoughts. First off Mosiah 22 the question was asked by Gideon, Have we been unprofitable servants? Recall this was the same dude that wanted to kill King Noah for being a poor leader, recall he led the people. His question could be " how can we be profitable?" "How can we help?"

They then escaped lamanites and became REFUGEES. These were good people. Hard working people, Faith having people. I believe that after leaving they were adopted by King Mosiah, that they were then baptized.

IN Mosiah 23, the next chapter, Alma was also a refugee, he and his saints left, and the first thing they did was labor to build buildings.

My point is this: you should be thinking
1. How can I help? (Not, How come they can't help themselves.)
2.  WHat work can I do?

The last thing I want to point out is that in the end of Mosiah 23, the lord tries patience and faith.

We are in a COVID Crisis. Instead of complaining about lack of help, I am going to try to ask "what can I do?"
Instead of questioning God, Understand through patience and faith.

As I go into this, I am hoping my faith helps me grow and that i dont burn out. The other thing that I hope is that when we are done with this I can figure out how to help

Vitamin C

Ok Kids. 

Here's another boring life lesson for you.

Do you ever feel like you can't make a difference in the world?

What can one person do?

How can one little action change the world?

I want to tell you how.

Scurvy is a disease that wiped out most of the military of the world before 1750. Before the 1750, if you were in the military, especially navy, or sailing industry, you were as likely to die from illness as battle. I can find you the stats, there is a book on my bookshelf called "A History of Medicine" you can find the stats there.

Sailors were given rations of salted pork/meat/tac (basically biscuits). Very few fresh fruits and veg were not as easy to get to the front lines. Soldiers and sailors would get frequent wounds and sickness. They called this wound infection/weakness scurvy.

In 1747 there was a Physician named Dr Lind (I think) This dude took 12 people. Divided them up into  groups. One group got salt water, one got lime juice, one got vinegar, one got garlic (to ward off vampires). By the end of two weeks the group that got lime were able to help the rest get better. He presented his findings to royal navy and so they added lime to the rations. Hence, Limey was term for british Sailor. I used to be able to give you more info, but my Idea book with notes is at the house, and i am here at work.

So, this is how a lime changed the world. The rate of disease for the british navy/military dropped. Look in my book that i mentioned for exact numbers but it went from like 1/5 sick to 1/20 sick. That meant that when the British went to fight Napoleon, they did not have to cycle through soldiers. Britain was able to keep Napoleon at bay. 

Imagine if Napoleon had lime rations? or if the British didn't? Our world would be different

One Doctor added lime and the world is difference.

So here is my point

1. You can make a difference in the world. Like Dr Lind. Or like Lime your influence for good can better the world around you.

2. The little things you do (Lime in your diet) on a daily basis will make you a better person. Pray, Be kind, be good, read your scriptures. We live in a world that increasingly ridicules religion, faith, and virtue. That lack of faith is why our world is as messed up as it is. Do the little things, it will make a difference.

I love you guys so much. I hope this COVID thing ends up being nothing

Cottage Cheesing It

Ok Kids,

I want to share with you my experience with cottage cheese.

Growing up I hated it. It was gross, it was what Vomit wished it could be. Every time we went to Grandma Grandpa Bakers we would have a leaf of lettuce with cottage cheese and a pear or piece of canned pineapple. That became the way cottage cheese was served in our house too. Lettuce. Blob of milk rot. Canned Fruit. Ugh....


I think this goes back to a depression era or post WWI where the felt you needed to get some vitamin C. They would serve a glass of orange Juice and Milk at every meal. I am not sure if the cottage cheese and pear combo did something but after eating it for the first time I gagged and nearly vomited. My mother got mad at me for being rude, and insisted I just eat it.

As I grew, it was fairly easy to avoid. When meals came out and cottage cheese was a part of it, I would mix the cottage cheese into whatever else was on the plate making it look like I ate it.

One day, my mom saw what I was doing.

"You must eat your cottage cheese! All of it!"
"If I do, I will Vomit."
"Eat it NOW! And do not say another word."
"I will puke..."
"EAT"

I took a bite, put it in my mouth. I tried to swallow. It would not go down. But soon we had bigger probems. I started to puke, and puke and puke. Puke came out my nose. All over the kitchen table, all over the plate, all over the floor.

And it did not stop.

I think I threw up everything I had eaten for the past week.

Whether or not I was sick, and the timing coincided with Cottage Cheese, or whether it was because it really is gross i will never know.

But, from that day forward, my mom never made me eat cottage cheese again. She would sometimes put it in a lasagne, but i could eat everything but the little white milk-turds.

So for the next 30 years I hated and avoided it.

But here's the deal. When I hit 40, I wanted to get in shape. I wanted to gain muscle. To do that you have to eat healthy and eat lots of protien.

Cottage Cheese is the perfect food. It is almost all protein, And a good source of calcium. Your mom loved it, she could eat it with anything.

Because I loved your mom, and because I wanted to find a good food to eat, i tried it. Initially I had a TON of mango and just a little cottage cheese. Then gradually advanced to about a cup of cottage cheese for one mango.

But now, I love it. Its great. I eat it plain sometimes. Its not a cookie or candy bar, but it is a good solid nutritious snack that I enjoy.

So here is my point.

In life there will be a ton of stuff that you will hate, that are good for you.
There are lots of things that will be good for you but that you wont want to do.

Figure out a way to learn to do it and it can open a whole new world.

The second point is this.
Cottage cheese wont do me any good if I don't also lift weights and work out. Recognize your goals and figure out ways to make them happen.

I love you kids. I sure am proud of you.

Everybody has a Province

Kids there is a principle that I learned in the Phillipines as a missionary.

I lived in Manilla for 2 years, specifically in Quezon City for 9 months, Calookan City for 6 months, Morong rizal for 6 months, then Marikina for the rest.

When I first arrived in Quezon, it was the rainy season. It rained more in one night than i had seen to that point in my life. When I went to walk around the streets the next day, they were clean and looked nice.... Till you got to the end of the street. There, you would see trash piled up in the gutters. Trash blocked roads canals and led to flooding.

I could not believe how much garbage was there. As a missionary, I loved the people and tried to teach my faith. As we learned about each person, i noted a recurring theme: No one in the city comes from the city, they all come from the province for a better job. There were tons of "squatters" living in ramshack houses put together with cardboard and drift wood. But most people lived in homes of wood and tin. When I was there, you could judge how rich someone was but the number of outlets in the house, and if the floor was concrete. You could also judge how high the water made it in flood season by how high the lowest power outlet was.

I am telling you this because it emphasizes living conditions. Every single person I met had a province they claimed as home. The would speak lovingly of how beautiful the province was and how amazing it was. Followed closely by, how little trash there was. Then, you could watch people just throw their trash out the door. Some would use the gutters as toilets (in the poorer areas)

I noted that i had comparison too. My "province" was the US, My 'province' was a farm. People compare their situation to where they came from. In Manilla, they did not view it as home, so they treated it like trash. 20 million people. Thats a lot of trash.

It isnt wrong to miss what you know and what you are familiar with. It is not wrong to note how things are different.

My point is this
 Live every place like it is your province. You will love it more, be less miserable and have more pride where you live. Treat your living, as though you will be there forever. Keep it clean, be proud of it, love the people there. Dont treat the people or area like trash, you will only end up living in it too.

 In Docterine and Covenants 51:17 talking about saints living in a place for a short time, the Lord commanded:
  wherefore let them act upon this land as for years, and this shall turn unto them for their good.

Look for the positive, keep yours clean, treat an area like you would live there forever and you will be happier.

I love you kids. I am proud i got to be in your life

Coming Clean

Dad, If you're still around and I am not, I have a confession.

I wrecked your Red Truck. I think it was a 1979 Ford. I don't remember much more than it was the kind of truck that was never pretty. I dont ever remember it getting washed. It was Rusty and Dusty. IT had a Bench Seat, but I dont think it had seat belts. I remember Trying to do a 0-60 time trial. It never made it. It got to like 52 and started to vibrate a lot, at 55 it didnt feel safe to drive. I had the pedal down for like 45 seconds to get it that fast.

One day, Daniel Jorgensen came over to play basketball, We wanted to shoot three pointers so we decided to go to the Grange. They had a Tennis/Basketball court with a three point line. He had his 3 wheeler. I dont remember why he didnt just get a ride with me.

I jumped in the truck and sped off, the gravel road was really dusty, i thought it would be funny to fishtail back and forth across the road to kick up dust. Daniel was driving behind me. I was spraying dust and gravel back at him fishtailing/drifting on the gravel.

At some point, I lost control of the vehicle, my options were to crash into the canal and sink the truck, or crash into the drainage ditch on the Jorgensen side of road N. I hit the dirt embankment, the truck went up in the air, and landed on its side in the ditch. I hit a pile of ash and it turned everything white.

I dont think i blacked out. But When I opened my eyes, the whole world was white. It was bright, i could not see my hand in front of my face, I thought I may have died. No pain, just a white light. Then I heard faintly, "Whitney, Whitney."

As the Dust settled i realized Daniel watched the whole thing. I was standing on the passenger door, i climbed vertically out the drivers window.

I was alive, but knew if you found out, i wouldn't be. Fortunately no one but Daniel was there, We hopped on the three wheeler and went back to the house, I fired up the loader tractor and drove down to the red truck.

The loader tracter had a three point attachment on the bucket for lifting. I put the chain around the bumper, and asked daniel to secure it while i lifted. He miss understood me and i hit him in the head with the bucket of the Loader. His left eye swelled up pretty quick but no bleeding. I put the tractor in reverse and pulled/backed the truck out. Only real damage was bending the bumper where the chain had attached. The other damage was the mirror bent.

I got the truck out, Returned the tractor, and we headed back to the Grange to let the adrenaline run out. We decided we would not lie about what happened, But we wouldnt have to tell the truth either. We decided that the truck was covered in mud and ash, I needed to wash it to prevent anyone from questioning. We also decided that it was scratched and dinged enough that the bumper wouldnt matter. Daniel said the only real problem would be the bruis on his head, if asked he would have to say where it came from. So He decided he would go shoot a basket and run into pole with his head. That way if asked, he could say, i hit the pole after a layup. So, not a lie, but not the truth either.

We got our stories strait. i took that red truck home and gave it the only wash it ever had. Satisfied, you would not ask questions, I waited till mom was in a good mood and/or distracted and said i got the truck stuck, but pulled it out. Both true-ish.

I dont think anything bad happened, but I was a much better driver and was alot more careful in the future.

Being Good

I want to tell you kids about a friend of mine. Ian Anderson.

He was the kind of kid in high school that every one liked. He was not an athlete, but probably could have played soccer. He was smart and kinda nerdy, but so kind to everyone, He had a sense humor and  humility. His humor was mostly self deprecating.

I remember he had this  assembly where he had to present something because he was like class president or something. For whatever reason, he sat at the top of bleachers, like 20 rows up, they called his name to give the announcement, He stood up and walked down the bleachers, then intentionally tripped and rolled/flopped down the stairs.

Everyone in the audience gasped, he hit so hard and bounced. They wanted to laugh but it looked like it hurt. When he finally bounced down to the floor. He popped up like nothing had happened and walked up to the podium. Everyone started dying laughing. He tripped and made himself the fool, just to get a reaction out of people.

He was the kid that everyone new and liked. Band nerd, Ian was your best friend, Basketball star, Ian was your best friend, Stoner, Ian was your best friend. People liked him because he was smart, kind and didn't judge.

I didn't really get to know Ian well till maybe my Junior or Senior year. I don't remember how we started to be good friends but I have a lot of funny stories about going to lunch and driving his '69 cougar.

Anyway, The reason I am writing this is the desire for being good. Sometime in 1999, I got a call from Ian, we had not hung out for a couple years, and this was before everyone had cell phones or Facebook. I didn't even own a computer then.

He called me and says, "Baker, Do you have a car?"
"Yes," I replied, "Why?"
"I have a service project for us"

Notice he said "US" not you. He explained that an older lady needed help moving from a house into an apartment. This was Provo, in the Summer. Rents in apartments are much cheaper. This lady was probably in her 50's or 60's. Somehow Ian met her and she asked him for help moving, He took his truck over and realized he needed more help. I went to this lady's house.

I had never met a hoarder, or even heard the term. It was the late 1990's reality TV was probably a thing, but I was not familiar with it.

This lady was in her 50s or early 60's she was at the age where she could be older or younger depending on if she combed her hair or changed her clothes. Not a neat person, not a normal person, a little odd, small, thin, but full of energy.

So, I walk into this lady's house. Bags, and bags and bags stacked. Not trash bags, but grocery bags filled with all kinds of sewing thread, clothes, hats, everything you can imagine. It was not anything weird, it was just a LOT of the normal stuff you have. The piles were stacked so high that you could not see the walls in some placed, and the floor was so covered that I cant remember if it had carpet.

Ian and I loaded his truck to the top, then my car, the front and back seat and trunk filled with numberless bags. We got essentials first like pots, pans, pantry items, then the Hanging clothes in house and a bed. We spent an entire day. I was grumbling about how much she had.

Then I saw why Ian asked for help. She opened up one of the thousand bags and pulled out a hat. This hat was like the kind you would get for free at a convention. Baseball cap, ventilated in back, elastic one size fits no one strap. She took this hat, hot glued marbles, and trinkets, and fake flowers to it. Then She spray painted the whole thing a metallic silver. She put it on and showed Ian.
"This is the hat that I wear when I go to Singles Activities, I want the boys to know that I am a fun girl." Ian had the ability to look at her and see her for what she was, one of God's daughters. She was peculiar, but she had desires, wants, she was a good person, Ian could see what Christ sees in people. That was why we were there. Ian recognized someone needed help, and he helped her.

But he also recognized that he couldn't do it alone. He asked me, We worked all day. When we finished, Ian contacted the Elders quorum of the ward this lady had moved out of and where she was moving into, and arranged a bunch of people to help her.

The elders quorum went to her house, Loaded all the stuff into a few trucks and drove it to the dump. They then cleaned the house, vaccumed and cleaned. This lady was heart broken. (It really was what she needed but not what she wanted)

The reason i am telling you this is that, if i do not make it through this COVID thing. You need to figure out how to be good, and how to do good. You need to look at others the way that Christ does. You need to be like Ian. Do what you can do for those, treat those with love.

PTSD

Ok, Kids so here's the deal

There is something that can fundamentally change in a person depending on what they have lived through. In war, it is easy to understand, you see enough friends die, or get shot enough and you can burn out the part of your brain that normally filters and calms. With this COVID thing coming, be aware that your family and friends and dad may be burning out.

Stress and fear can do funny things and make someone gumpy, sad, and miserable. But often times, after terrible things, it can permanently affect a persons personality. Keep that in mind for your friends, they may have had hardships in life, they may have had frustration, and they may not have the good mom you have.

Treat all people with kindness, and compassion. And patience.

Do the same for me

The Virus Who Shall not Be named

Bridget,

Wanted to let you know how proud of you I am. I love your books and writing, it is so fun to see stories materialize. To watch them go from an idea to an outline to a rough draft to a book baby is like watching a kid start to walk, then talk, then run away.

Your writing is good for the world. There need to be more good wholesome stories with intelligence and thought put into them. There are lots of good stories, but the volume at which you can put them out makes it something special too. The broad genres, i think it would be fun to see what you can do with a GOTH Comedy. I am not even sure what that is, but if you can write in post-apocalyptic, romance, suspense, young adult, maybe your books can cross into other genres and tie everyone together. Like Imagine if everyone had a Favorite Author, and that was you. You could unite the world through your writing! I am partly joking. It would be super cool to see what a GOTH Comedy would be like.

On a more serious note, I am really proud of your writing for lots of reasons but one of the most is the example you set for our kids. I think it is good for Eli to see a Strong Woman do what she wants and still have a family, you set a good example for attributes for future wife. My dad (as chauvinist as he is) used to say, "look at the mother for an example of what their daughter will be." I am not sure how to process that, but I think for Eli, seeing and being around a strong role model will help him with future decisions, and unfortunately, your shoes will be hard to fill.

The girls need your writing too. They have a mom who is capable of fighting the world for them, and they see that, but when they are moms, they can have your writing as an example that they can do anything they want or need to do. Being a successful author, attorney, mother, and managing all of that with grace. Your writing doesn't just tell stories, it is also an example of what it takes to be successful.. You should be keeping an ongoing tally of how long it took to write, then edit then publish, and a running tally of how much each book cost to produce, then show that as an example that it isnt easy, but if you work hard enough anything is possible. Also do the same for Law School, and Taxes. Give them info on what it takes to succeed, but then your books will be the testament of time.

So, i have been trying to tell the kids stuff. There are so many things I would need to talk to you about. And some are more personal and too personal for the internet, As Far as I am aware, Emma is the only one that knows about this blog, and that is just in the off chance something happens to me. I wanted you to know how grateful I am for you. I have always been a hard worker but never one with self confidence, always unsure what I am doing, constantly feeling inadequate. It is baggage I have had my whole life. Probably baggage i will continue to carry. But, meeting you, marring you has helped my confidence. I feel like one of those little sucker fish on sharks, i am a Remora. I am more confident and capable because I am stuck to a Shark that no one wants to mess with.

Love isn't about confidence or what benefits I have from you. But I do want you to know that I feel like a stronger person because of our love. Clearly, you are the writer in the relationship. I can barely string together a coherent train of thoughts. It will take me 100 words to say what it would take you 3. But, I feel you should know a few thoughts, on the off chance I don't make it home. Hopefully, i will be able to do/say more, but never know. What a crazy time.

The numbers look pretty good for me making it out. Hopefully the way i live my life shows you how much you mean to me, not just some random words printed off of the internet.

Anyway, I have been writing this on and off and will likely add to it more here and there. I have ideas of what i want you to know, and ideas of what i want to say, then get distracted.

Riding horses is one of my favorite things becasue it is time i get to spend with you doing something you love.

The writing cruise was one of my favorite things because it is time spent with you doing something you love.

I love you, i will write more late