I seem to be falling into a pattern of including a few recent photographs with a brief explanation of how they relate to current events in our lives.

First, however, I must express a small degree of disappointment to have received only one comment from my children attached to my last post. I suppose I equate readership with comments and, therefore, conclude that only Whitney read my last post. For that, Whitney, you put yourself in position to receive the greater share of whatever I leave behind when it comes time to leave this good earth. Of course, that may not amount to much, but it will be the thought that counts. The rest of you can, if you put forth the necessary effort, place yourselves back into my good graces (and my will) by leaving some trace of your reading of my posts either by direct comment or, for more discreet sentiments, direct e-mail responses will be acceptable. I was doubly disappointed to see such meager readership after taking the trouble to add a game of "Hangman" to my blog. If you get bored with the reading, you can at least play a game or two of Hangman and feel truly fulfilled for visiting my blog site.

Now on with the post... Jake and I worked like prison dogs yesterday to complete the sprinkler system in our new back yard lawn. I've included a picture above to give you some idea of the manual labor involved with digging trenches, assembling PVC pipe and joints and installing and testing the sprinklers themselves. We were hoping to actually plant grass yesterday, but the wind came up and I didn't want our lawn to be "scattered to and fro by every wind of doctrine" before it even got the chance to take root and grow.

But the watering system works as intended as I discovered by running it through a day-long test cycle. A secret to a new lawn is keeping it moist continuously while the baby shoots are tender to prevent the searing sun and dry winds to kill the young plants. I think this system combined with the frequency of irrigation programmed into the timer will be what the lawn doctor ordered.

Mom has returned to us just in time for Mother's Day. Spencer and Anna shared the weekend with us and Sally, T.J. and Rufus came by this afternoon to also pay their respects. Jake, Spencer, Anna and I went to see the new Star Trek moving last night while Mom waited for Chris Albright to remember to pick her up at the airport. Apparently Chris forgot about the airport arrangements despite a phone conversation about it just a few hours earlier. He and Peggy went to one of their kids' homes last night causing Chris to forget his pick-up duties. Mom waited patiently for quite some time and ended up being the last person to picked up at Terminal 2 before it shut down for the night. And like the trooper she is, she made the three-hour trip back across the Reservation to her Thatcher home arriving about 3:30 a.m. on Mother's Day.

I had high council meeting this morning so missed the morning Mother's Day breakfast. Mom was exhausted, as you might guess, so everyone was still here after my meeting having not gone to our own ward. We attended a later ward's sacrament meeting together and listened to some very fine talks on the timely topic of Mothers.

It's hard to believe the summer is at our doors. Eastern Arizona College has had its graduation so Mom's work should lighten up for the remainder of her academic year. Jake is finishing up his junior year of high school and looking forward to a summer of interesting plans and events. I will continue with my work -- for the mine, here at home and in the church.

We don't have many summer plans. There is a Hansen reunion here that I am partly in charge of considering that I am the only Hansen sibling living here locally. It will be a camping reunion and my charge is to oversee arrangements for a site on Mt. Graham. It will be around the 24th of July if case any of you readers are interested.

That's it for this week. This is not a "leave no trace" blog so please leave behind some indication that you've been here and read a few lines.

Take care and be safe.

Love,

Dad