Collapse

Several buildings collapsed under the weight of snow, including a portion of Trinity Baptist Church on Monroe Street. Fortunately, the main sanctuary appears unharmed, but a gymnasium on the back of the building was completely destroyed. The Rosauer's at Five Mile also collapsed.

For local news coverage of recent structural damage due to snow, click HERE.

UPDATE: Another roof collapsed over the pool at Global Fitness in north Spokane, nearly crushing three swimmers. Thankfully, everyone escaped injury. Read more about this HERE.







I drive by Trinity Baptist every day on my way to work, but I didn't even know about the collapse until I read it in the paper. The part of the building that faces the street is unharmed.

The Roof

With more than three feet of snow on the roof, and another 6 to 9 inches forecast tonight, I decided to shovel the roof; well, at least the flat part over the front porch. Several structures have already collapsed around town.

Winter

When I left for work this morning, heavy snow dumped from the sky like a plague of icy white locusts. Already treacherous, the streets nearly choked between massive heaps of snow on each side. Four-lane arterials narrowed to two lanes; two-lane roads narrowed to one.





These trees near my workplace are just waiting for a warm wind that would soon shake the chunks of snow to the ground.

Mountains

These mountains formed outside the IEL building on North Monroe.

Mountains of snow and ice have sprung up in parking lots and streets all across the city. Where else can it go? I almost expect to see trucks dumping the snow into the river, like they did after the big storm of '68.

I don't even want to think about the cost.

A recent news report said the city pays more than $200,000 a day for snow removal, and this in a time of economic crisis.

Madonna

Madonna Wiltse is one of Rhonda's best friends. They talk on the phone several times a day and share a mutually supportive understanding. Even when Rhonda and I have struggled in our marriage, Madonna is the kind of person who can listen compassionately to everything without taking sides. We've really grown to love Madonna and her family.

Her son Adam is in town on military leave, so they asked me to shoot some informal family portraits. These photographs represent a sample of our session.



Adam, his wife Reese, and their daughter Ellana.



Adam and Reese.



Madonna's daughter Jen, and her husband Dan.



Madonna and her husband Loren.



Reese, Jenni, Natalie, Quincy, and Spencer.





Ellana is the newest Wiltse family member, and quite obviously the most popular. She commanded the attention of everyone in the room, and when she reached her limit, she announced the end of the photoshoot through her cries.

No End

Snowflakes on the needles of a ponderosa pine...

Late last night another intense snowfall covered the region, with no end in sight. The world is buried in white.



The dog and I braved the weather and hiked one of our traditional trails, but I got more of a workout than planned. My feet sunk into the snow past my knees, and as the dog ran ahead, he looked like a black dot on the snowy white landscape.

As I struggled through the knee deep snow, a red-tail hawk whistled twice and perched atop a tall pine. He waited only long enough for me to catch two quick pictures, and then disappeared behind the treeline.

Snowflake Collage

Early this morning, I managed to persuade a few snowflakes to pose for these photographs, which I then organized into a collage. I have to say, I'm very excited to know my camera captures this level of detail. It's a huge improvement over my previous camera.

Night Snow

After so many days of constant snow, we can hardly imagine a world not white, but the precipitation rested this evening and the temperature reached a sweltering 20 degrees.





I'm not much of a snow-lover, but the white earth-covering makes a beautiful background for photographs, especially those at night, lined with Christmas lights. This phrase gets way over used, but it really is magical. And then Rhonda and I lay in bed the other night listening to the silence, which is unusual because we live relatively close to a busy highway. It's never totally quiet, but the snow absorbs all the usual sounds.

Blessed

We are blessed by the explosion of stocking candies and wrapping papers strewn across the floor, showing that in spite of occasional hardships, we still enjoy the blessings of abundance.



We are blessed with children who are still young enough to wake at dawn Christmas morning with giddy anticipation, and who still respect the family tradition that requires everyone to wait in the hall until the whole family has properly assembled.



We are blessed with surprise visitors on Christmas.



We are blessed with LOVE.

Cousins

The Moses cousins meet too infrequently, especially since Bradley's kids now live in Germany. At least Kim and I visit from time to time, and so our kids will have memories together. Whenever we do get a chance to visit, I'm always so pleased to see all my children, including my nieces and nephews. In the old Indian way, they are like my second children.

Peppers

On most occasions, hot peppers are altogether detestable, but Christmas would have been incomplete without them. We finally wearied of traditional Christmas turkeys, and opted for a Mexican dinner instead, complete with carne asada, chicken flautas, black bean soup, Spanish rice, homemade tortillas, and yes, hot peppers.

My mom, my sisters, and their families joined us for dinner, and it would seem the food was appreciated by everyone.

Old School

For all the convenience of the electronic age, part of me still appreciates the personal touch of a handwritten card and a tangible photograph. Perhaps it's a little outdated, but we still love to send cards and letters. We like to receive them too, even though we got a late start this year. As the cards, postage stamps, papers, and envelopes lay scattered on our dining room table, I said to Rhonda, "Wow, these cards look like the old school Facebook before Facebook." She laughed.

Snowflakes

The snow fell in giant, crystalized flakes, like the one you see in picture books, with each of the six points clearly visible; I was just surprised my camera captured them so well.

Lights

And the snow keeps falling, with more in the forecast. It's so unreal, but beautiful in its own way. Of course, it makes traffic quite nearly unbearable. After a trying day of last minute Christmas shopping, I had to focus on the beauty and the lights.

Paper Snowflakes

Inspired by the snowflakes of the genuine kind, my kids and I made paper snowflakes for the tree. It's a simple form of therapy, calming to the nerves, and smiles all around. Besides, no childhood would be complete without paper snowflakes.

Winter Sunset

At the end of the day, a magnificent sunset cast a fiery glow over the frozen world; such beauty amid the darkness of winter

The Baby Yeti

This afternoon we discovered conclusive proof that the abominable snow monster is real. We found this abominable little thing rolling around in the snow at Holmberg Park.

Snow Snow Snow

The snow drama continues here in Spokane as yet another night of snowfall covered the region; one layer upon another. I honestly don't believe I've seen so much snow in my life. The kids tried to go sledding, but the snow was just too deep and powdery. What good is snow without sledding?





Holmberg Park under snow.



The snow plow finally found our street, clearing the snow from the road, but leaving a huge pile in our driveway. I read someplace that shoveling snow burns 12 calories per minute. If so, then we got a darn good workout.

New Summit Quest Blog

After careful consideration, Rhonda and I decided to migrate the Summit Quest website to a Blogger account.

Our primary goal is to increase interaction between members of the Summit Quest community and to improve overall accessibility. Previously, the Summit Quest website contained mostly static content. With so few changes, the website gave little motive for visitors to return. In contrast, the blog will allow us to easily and frequently update important information.

We also invite previous participants to submit personal accounts of retreats, challenges, growth experiences, and traditions. Allowing more voices will deepen the quality and collective wisdom of the Summit Quest community.

http://summitquestblog.blogspot.com/

Colonialism

My daughter participated in a grade school activity and inadvertently caused me to reflect on issues of modern colonialism and tribal sovereignty.

Every year, the fifth grade students at my daughter’s school study the original thirteen colonies and the American War of Independence. As a culminating event, the children participate in a school-wide open house where they invite the public to learn more about life in colonial America. Each child assumes a role from that time period, dresses up in the appropriate costume, and then presents a short speech. For example, a child dressed as an apothecary spoke to us about colonial medicine. A boy wearing shackles and a wooden pillory spoke to us about crime and punishment. Another boy wearing a white wig spoke to us about the legal system. Dozens of children participated, each one representing a different aspect of colonial society.

As a teacher, I was greatly impressed by the students and the evidence of learning they presented.

As a parent, I was also impressed. My daughter presented her role with grace and confidence. She wore a long dress, a simple white apron, and a bonnet. Standing beneath a large placard labeled, “What is a colony?” she delivered her speech like a pro:

“You may already know that England had 13 colonies, but do you know what a colony is? A colony is a place that belongs to another country, like a landlord and a renter. The colonies lasted in America from 1607 to 1776 when the Declaration of Independence was signed.”

As a father, I couldn’t help but think she was the cutest thing God ever placed on this Earth, but a rather innocent mistake in her words gave me pause to reflect. Several times, as she repeated the speech to other parents, she said the colonies lasted in Spokane from 1607 to 1776, instead of saying the colonies lasted in America. I gently corrected my daughter, but not before the words began their powerful effect on me.

Some of the parents chuckled, but the words sank into my brain like a time-release capsule. I had never thought of colonies in Spokane...

The teacher’s definition proposes a simple landlord/tenant model of colonialism, but according to another source, colonialism is “the control or governing influence of a nation over a dependent country, territory, or people.”1 Based on this definition, colonialism more than certainly applies to Spokane. In this case, the United States provides the control and governing influence over the Spokane Tribe as a dependent territory and people. In fact, colonialism still thrives in Spokane and throughout Indian Country a full 232 years after the Americans signed the Declaration of Independence, and 48 years after the United Nations passed a resolution to end colonialism.2

As indigenous people we often refer to ourselves as “sovereign nations,” but that sovereignty has limits. Specifically, the United States regards Indian tribes within its territorial jurisdiction as “domestic dependent nations,”3 and reserves the right to limit, alter, or amend tribal powers at will. This lesson raises huge implications. Specifically, the United States promotes democracy abroad while maintaining colonial power over hundreds of indigenous nations right here in North America. The irony saddens and astounds me.

Independence means different things on different levels. On a national level, tribal governments continue to struggle to maintain their sovereign right to self-governance. On a personal level, we declare independence from colonial powers when we teach our children to remember the language, traditions, and cultures of our indigenous ancestors.

Endnotes:

1. colonialism. (n.d.). Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1). Retrieved December 21, 2008, from Dictionary.com website: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/colonialism

2. Retrieved December 21, 2008, from http://www.unhchr.ch/html/menu3/b/c_coloni.htm

3. Retrieved December 21, 2008, from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tribal_sovereignty

Early Break

Classes were cancelled again today across town, so Christmas vacation began early for everyone. But with the early vacation, thousands of shoppers took to the stores. I regret to say Rhonda and I were among the masses who braved snowdrifts and nearly impassable streets to participate in the yearly ritual to commercialism.

Fortunately, I did take a few minutes to appreciate the natural beauty of winter in Spokane, like this picture overlooking the Spokane River.







Whitney falling into the snow...



Mail service resumed today...

Snow Day

The storm continued all through the night, dumping a record 24 inches of snow in 24 hours. Since official records began, Spokane has never gotten this much snow in a single day. When we arose this morning, we found reports of a city staggering under the sheer mass of snow. Every school district closed for the day, including District 81 and Community Collges.



Since Community Colleges cancelled classes, I took the dog for a walk by the Little Spokane River. I got some great photographs, but by the end, I almost regretted trudging through so much snow. The snow drifts nearly buried me up to my waist.





Two feet of snow nearly buried my car, but I still managed to drive on at least one important errand.

Snowstorm

Well, the weather outside is frightful...

When I entered my work building this morning, the ground was cold and completely clear. Four hours later, I stepped outside and saw a world transformed, covered with more than four inches of light, powdery snow.



At 2:00 this afternoon, the plows had already begun clearing Monroe Street.



At 4:30 this afternoon, we made the mistake of driving to downtown Spokane. By that time, the abundant snowfall and rush hour traffic combined to create treacherous driving conditions. A radio news announcement reported more than 200 accidents around town.

When we reached Washington Street, just north of Riverfront Park, southbound traffic reached a complete standstill for more than an hour and a half. Trapped in the gridlock, we got out of our car and simply enjoyed the sights.



Several cars got stuck on the northbound hill, so Dakota, Derrick, and I played the part of Good Samaritans and pushed. We managed to help three or four cars, but one vehicle slid into a snowbank and got stuck beyond our ability to rescue. We then pushed another car to the top of the hill, just as the motor popped and started billowing toxic smoke.





After pushing cars up the hill, Whitney and I still had time to walk to Riverfront Park and photograph the American Pavilion. All in all, we took more than four hours to drive downtown and back. On the road home, cars continued to slide, and many businesses closed early.

Yes, the weather IS frightful, but no doubt the world will be beautiful and white in the morning.

Gerik

"American Zeitgeist." Image from the Inlander.

An unusual form of artwork created something of a stir in the collective awareness of greater Spokane.

The artwork hit my line of sight somewhat abruptly. As I drove southbound on Market Street, I happened to catch a brief glance of John McCain and Barack Obama depicted graffiti-style on a cinderblock wall. From a distance, the image seemed almost three dimensional. The painting jumped from the industrial concrete canvas and compelled me to stop for a closer look.

Soon after, I featured the Obama/McCain piece as a backdrop to a post about politics and religion, though I failed to credit the artist(s).

Then quite unexpectedly, another Gerik piece appeared closer to home, only a couple of blocks from my house. This time I paid closer attention, making sure to notice the artist name.

By chance, the Inlander published an article at about the same time as I noticed the second piece. Based on their report, Gerik is actually a composite name for three anonymous artists working together. The article often referred to them simply as Gerik 1 or Gerik 2. For obvious reasons, they avoid taking credit (or blame) for creating works of art bordering on public defacement.

Indeed, certain sectors of our culture would reject any kind of graffiti-art, especially if the subject matter invites controversy. But if art is the struggle to understand (as attributed to Audrey Foris), then Gerik may very well deepen understanding through our discomfort. Some images may question established assumptions or disturb the status quo, but I count myself among the fans of Gerik. Our public spaces need more inquiry, discussion, and even civil debate as inspired by the artists’ brush.

Check out the artists' Flickr page to see more images.


"American Zeitgeist" appears in a rather awkward location on the edge of Highway 395, near my house.


My only personal connection to the artist(s) is that of an observer and admirer. If any of the artists should happen to find this blog, please know I would LOVE to meet you, respecting your anonymity, of course.

Cruel Sun

The cruel sun promises warmth, but leaves the world under a lifeless, frozen sky; so bright, but without comfort.

Basalt

At the base of Spokane Falls, the river cuts deeply into the ancient bedrock, where the wrath of the old coyote spirit once gouged the valley floor in a fit of selfish rage. Molten rock flowed from his anger and then froze into a solid mass of basalt. This afternoon I look down from the Monroe Street Bridge and see the basalt under a different kind of ice. Beneath the spell of today's freezing temperature, the rocks look like an alien world, but still cold and alone.




Spokane is built on a foundation of basalt.

Deep Freeze

Steam rises from the base of Spokane Falls, partially shrouding the Monroe Street Bridge in silver mist.

When I woke up this morning, the thermometer recorded the outside temperature at an excruciating 10 degrees. The clear winter air was quite deceptive, throwing sunshine about like a hot summer day, but quickly sucking the warmth from any exposed skin. The cold left me breathless and stiff, too cold to even shiver.

Then after work this afternoon, the deceitful sun lured me outdoors to photograph the Spokane River, in spite of my better judgment. The cold quickly settled into my hands and feet, and after four or five minutes outside, my fingers went numb. Only a minute more and I could no longer remember which buttons to press on my camera. Is that what happens when people freeze to death; when their judgment slowly fades into silence?

This deep freeze is so beautiful and lethal.


Riverfront Park looks deceptively warm and bright.


The Washington Water Power Building and the Post Street Bridge are visible above Spokane Falls.


The old Washington Water Power Building, now owned by Avista, is visible from under the arch of the Monroe Street Bridge.

Sunlight

The clouds parted, and for one brief instant, the light of day shone through the frozen window pane and illuminated the Christmas tree. This picture found me by surprise while I sat at home, hibernating from the cold winter chill.

Angel

Some time before we married, Rhonda and I took a marriage class from Bishop Orville Nelson. One of many things I remember, he counseled us to continue our courtship, even after the wedding. He advised us to always find special times alone with each other, building our relationship.

Through all the hardships, trials, and blessings over the last 14 years, we remembered the words of our old bishop and continue to make time for regular dates. It might not be an overstatement to say our dates may have held us together.

Sometimes life seems so overwhelming; our differences seem insurmountable, but when I sit across the table from my wife, I listen to her laughter and remember everything I love about her. We were best friends first, and will remain so in the end. A million things pull us apart, wrenching our souls at times, but a simple, transcendent love binds us together.

Coming home from our date tonight, we heard this song from Angela Little, titled "Your Angel." It reminds me of our relationship.

Your Angel

There is something in your eyes,
So blue and clear and so surprised.
You weren't expecting me,
But I'm here, and I will set you free.

There is something in your voice,
So sad and scared, you think you have to make a choice.
Like the way the river leads towards the sea,
This river's leading you to me.

And you say that I'm your angel,
That I'm your guiding star.
What it all comes down to is I'm only human too,
And I love you just the way you are.

There is something in your arms,
So safe and warm, you know you make me feel so calm.
Since you stroked my hair and held me through the night,
I know it's gonna be alright.

So you say that I'm your angel,
That I'm your guiding star.
What it all comes down to is I'm only human too,
And I love you just the way you are.

Don't be afraid, we'll be fine.
Remember everything happens in its own time.
And like the way that every river leads toward the sea,
This river's leading you to me.

Listen to the song by clicking HERE.

A Christmas Story

We supported Christian Youth Theater this evening by attending their production of "A Christmas Story." The stage performance was almost as funny as the original screen version, and certainly more delightful because of our personal connection to the actors. On stage or on screen, "A Christmas Story" is a classic.




The daydream scenes were just delightful.

Winter

A view of Spokane looking north; snowclouds hang low over the city.

Winter finally arrived in earnest after several weeks of flirting with cool weather and scattering snow showers mixed with rain. Yesterday evening, the first real snow storm befell us, followed by a sudden drop in temperature. An angry wind screamed from the east, biting through my clothes to my skin beneath. Winter finally arrived in all her fury.


These branches remind me of a freezing claw reaching out from the sky.


The pond at Manito Park froze over. Someone threw rocks onto the surface of the water, where they remain.

Winter Party

Teacher, Nurse, and Mom-to-All Carole with her daughter...

The Winter Party at the IEL evening class was a big success. We combined our efforts with the ESL and doubled the value.

Of course, I must take this opportunity to honor my coworkers. All of them make my job a million times better through their hard work, dedication to our students, and good humor. They're always willing to provide comic relief when needed. They are the best bunch of people to work with, seriously.


Pamm... AKA Fraulein.


Ward...


Susan, our faithful administrative assistant and goatherd.... :)

1000 Steps

A 1000 Steps

According to urban folklore, the mythical "Thousand Steps" cemetery is one of the most haunted places in Spokane. More than one local blog has made fantastical claims of ghostly encounters near the abandoned stairway. The place captured my attention about a year ago when my sister encouraged me to write about it in my blog.

I wrote the blog as a simple matter of curiosity, perhaps the way a social scientist observes a cultural phenomenon. To my surprise, my 1,000 Step blog generated more interest than any other post. At least once a day, one or two people find my blog as a result of a Google search for the cemetery.

Earlier today I returned for another chance to photograph this unusual place. In most ways, it fails to measure up to the hype. Instead of a thousand steps, I only counted fifty two. And in spite of what anyone might believe about ghosts, the only evidence of spirits I found were the empty bottles of liquor left behind by presumably flesh-and-bone humans.

However, in my own way, I took an interest in the place because of its aesthetic appeal. I'm fascinated by the remains of abandoned structures and recently created "ruins." These ghosts dwell only in the shadowy beauty of human memory.

Quiet

What is the fascination with "haunted" places? I went to the cemetery hoping for a spooky experience, and instead I found myself taken by the beauty and calm. No ghosts, just quiet stillness.

Kirk

An old friend visited Spokane from out of town. We haven't seen each other in several years and we ended up reminiscing over when we met. How did it happen? Was it the time I went to Logan? A work-related conference? Some kind of church function? No one remembers for sure. It's all ancient history now.

Whatever the case, we enjoyed re-connecting after all this time, while the irreverence of our meeting generated just a little laughter.

And just to show my nerdy side, I brought my camera to our first meeting and forgot to take pictures, so I called him back. As a faithful blogger, I would be remiss to let this opportunity slip away. We arranged a second meeting just for the "glamour shot." Rhonda and I drove back downtown, took the pictures, laughed some more, and finally said goodnight.

Waiting

The times were all wrong; waiting with no obvious end-point. The minutes pass; boredom creeps in, followed by an outburst of hilarity. The photographs are grainy because of poor lighting. We just took them to pass the time, but I like them because they remind me of the tension immediately preceding the laughter.

We can never stay serious for too long.

Cattail Flour

I thought for sure I already finished my cattail stories, but it turns out that little plant holds a few more surprises.

After we made those little cattail people, I found some information online regarding its use as a food. To my surprise, almost every part of the plant is edible. In fact, both the pollen and the roots can be used to make a kind of flour.

Of course, I had to try.

Dakota and I trudged down the hill to dig up cattail roots. We found them much more difficult to uproot than expected. Many of the roots broke off underground, and many more quite simply didn't budge. The few roots we managed to extract from the mud convinced me we would never survive if we had nothing to eat but these roots. Unless we found an easier way to dig up the darn things, we would burn more calories than the plant provides.

(Continue below...)



These are the roots we managed to take up from the ground. The mud had a kind of rotten swamp smell. Of course, we washed that away in the kitchen sink.



After washing the roots, we peeled the outer layer and exposed a white inner layer. Next, I crushed the roots in a bowl with water, using only my hands. I was careful to force the fibers against each other and thereby extract the inner starchy material. The nutritive substance in the root made my hands feel soapy.



After all the fibers are removed, the edible portion forms something like a starchy sludge at the bottom of the bowl. The water is removed and the rest is allowed to dry.



Once dry, the remaining powder actually does have the consistency and feel of flour. I was quite happy with the results, but as I said, I wonder if the amount of work balances the nutritional value. We probably worked for more than two hours, and yet harvested less than a half cup of flour. I suppose it's good to know in a pinch, but I won't be digging up the swamps any time soon for my survival needs.

Snowflake Tree

Last year we began a rather odd tradition of naming our Christmas trees. It began when we went to purchase a tree and after a brief conference amongst themselves, the girls declared, "We will call this tree Timothy."

This year the honor fell upon McKenna alone. She took about 24 hours to deliberate, and finally this evening, she stood before the decorated tree and announced, "The name of this tree is Snowflake." The family clapped and cheered and welcomed Snowflake the Tree to preside over home during the Christmas celebration.

Powwow

My cousin Gabby sat next to us with his drum Iron Spirit.


Dakota sleeping on Rhonda's lap.

The senior class of Medicine Wheel Academy sponsored a powwow this evening at Havermale School. Normally I don't attend powwows during the opposing season, but my good friend invited me to sing at the drum. Not to mention, I also felt moved to support the students at my former workplace.

Years ago, I used to sit with Hank Wynne and my father when they still called themselves the "Corn Dogs." The drum name started as a joke, but stuck for quite some time. Finally my yaya Messie decided they should take a more respectable name and paid to call them "Little Falls." Hank and my dad are both gone, as well as several others who sat at that drum, but many of us remember those songs and continue the tradition.

Tonight at the Medicine Wheel powwow, I sat with Eric and the Hall Creek drum. Most of the songs are the same as I remember from my youth. It's an honor.

Rhonda also sang with us, but Dakota fell asleep on Rhonda's lap. He went to a scout camp last night and only slept one hour. Even so, I imagine the sound of the drum resonated in his sleep and moved his dreams.

Water

A single drop of water hangs from a branch and calls my attention. It reflects the surrounding environment like a crystal sphere and inverts the image. For the tinest moment I find myself captivated by that single drop, as in a world of beauty unto itself.

Tree

The women who attend Rhonda's retreats presented her a Christmas tree. Susan Schilling made the delivery and said, "A little bird said you needed a tree." Immediately our home filled with the wonderful smell of noble fir and a feeling of abiding love.

Color

Perhaps the spirits overheard my complaint about the overbearing gray these last few days, because just as the sun began to set, the sky burst forth into brilliant color. The breathtaking sunset arched across the horizon in fiery pink, then faded gradually into a deep blue. Lemlmtsh for the blessing of color.

Whitney in the Morning

When I woke up this morning, I heard my daughter calling me from the bathroom. "Dad!" she hollered, "Come turn on the water for my shower." I stumbled out of bed and found her sitting on the bathroom counter. She looked so adorable, I made a sit still while I retrieved my camera.

Followers

The new format of this blog allows me to gather "followers," other bloggers who admire my writing, enjoy my photographs, or otherwise read my posts. Come to find out, I already had four followers before I even knew the feature existed. Of course, now that I recognize the potential of an expanded readership, let the evangelizing begin. If you're a blogger, this is your altar call to the Blog of Moses. You'll find the appropriate link listed in the left side panel, titled "Follow this blog." Take a leap of faith, click the link, and become one of my devoted followers... ;)

Redesign

After battling many months of personal resistance, I finally decided to re-structure my blog from the older "template" format, to what Blogger calls a "layout" format. Despite my initial hesitation, layouts have made my life as a blogger infinitely more convenient.

My primary reservation was that I would lose all the template modifications made over the years. Previous to the switch, modifications often required me to manually change the HTML code, often through a tedious and frustrating process of trial and error. I was never formally trained in HTML, so not only was it difficult to find the proper code sequences, the smallest typo could make the entire template malfunction. After I finally created a workable template through sheer force of will, I hated to lose my template and begin again.

Ironically, layouts provided an easy fix to the very issue holding me back all these months. They allow me to re-create everything and more, and they do it without all the confusing manipulations to the HTML code.

The layout format does everything I ever needed before, and adds new dynamic features. For example, prior to the change, my blog featured a static list of fellow bloggers. If a link stopped working or changed, I had to re-write the code manually. Now Blogger creates the list for me, and also provides a real-time display whenever the other blogs are updated. I'm just now beginning to experiment with many of the other interesting features.

The Gray

One season passes to the other and drains the world of color. The transition creates a breathless, formless void where all the greens and reds and yellows and purples wither away to nothing. One shade of gray blends into the next, and all the fine edges of life begin to lose their focus. In the hazy silence I feel just a little more empty, and slightly less alive.

The earth sleeps beneath a lifeless cold; maybe she dreams of spring-time. And when she finally wakes, perhaps I shall find my renewal also.

Ron & Linda

Linda, Dakota, Ron, and Rhonda.

Rhonda's father and step-mother paid a visit to Spokane and stayed an altogether too short time with our family. Monday was their day at the Moses household, spending lunch with Rhonda and I, and then an evening at Wonderland with the kids. We hope to get more visits in the near future.