Sister Kimber and Shelley F play
Alex runs up the muddy hill!
Ivan jumps one of the water holes! 
Jenn runs through the stream!
Ivan R. and Emma enjoy watching the women's race!
Our Thanksgiving Feast
Playing games on Thanksgiving
"Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live
As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I’d seen.
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.
I’d heard stories about them, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.
He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
Not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?
His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan.
I soon understood, this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.
Soon around the Nation, the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.
I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye.
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.
He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
“Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps.”
With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.
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All photos courtesy of Amy Fisler. Copyright 2008. Amy Fisler. Used by permission. All rights reserved. All Photos are Click to Enlarge.
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It has been an interesting week.
The Chinese homily, “May you live in interesting times,” has its roots in a curse, not a blessing.
As I said, it has been an interesting week.
The controversy in California regarding Proposition 8 (the proposed amendment to the California constitution defining marriage to be strictly between a man and a woman) built to a frenzy in the days leading up to Tuesday's election and then exploded into anger and violence in the aftermath of Prop 8's slim passage into law.
I am a Los Angeles Police Department detective supervisor running a sex crimes unit covering the western quarter of the city, which also includes the area where the Los Angeles temple is located. I have a fantastic crew of 20 detectives who are an amazing mixture of races and sexes. I have several detectives who are openly gay or lesbian. This orientation has nothing to do with their efficiency as investigators. I deeply respect and like these individuals. I enjoy working with them. My life is often in their hands when we serve high risk search or arrest warrants. I trust them implicitly.
Obviously, the types of crimes we investigate bring us into regular contact with victims who are of an alternative lifestyle orientation. It is incumbent upon us that our compassion for these victims be no less than for victims who are heterosexual.
Hard Choices
Working in such an environment, I found taking a position on Proposition 8 to be difficult. Even though I chose to follow the direction of our Church leaders in my voting decision, it was extremely hard for me to place myself on the line when it came to actively working to ensure the passage of Proposition 8.
Still, I watched in amazement as my fellow ward and stake members worked tirelessly, committing themselves full-heartedly to the cause – not out of homophobic hatred, but out of a love of Christ and a belief in the sanctity of traditional marriage. Their faith strengthened mine, and I committed to participate in a sign waving public rally sponsored by our stake to be held at a local intersection.
By following through on this commitment, I found I had a greater stake in the battle than I had ever thought. I learned a number of hard and harsh lessons. And in the events following the election and passage of Proposition 8, I felt great anguish forcing me to drop to my knees in prayer – eventually coming to a more personal understanding of the Love of Christ and what he expects from me.
During the Proposition 8 rally, as I stood with my wife and friends waving Yes On 8 signs and waving to the passing rush hour traffic, I learned several things. I learned supporters of both Yes On 8 and No On 8 liked to honk their horns. I learned the way to tell the difference is the No On 8 supporters usually accompanied their horn honking with an obscene gesture or a string of obscenities. They also liked to swerve their cars toward the children on the curb.
I learned when we didn't engage in argument with the No On 8 supporters who intermingled with us in the intersection, they became enraged, red faced, and fit to burst.
I have no doubt Yes On 8 supporters both from our church and other churches engaged at some point in the shouting matches during the numerous rallies and demonstrations across the state. However, on the evening of my participation, I was amazed by the cool and non-confrontational way the Yes On 8 supporters conducted themselves.
I learned at the rally several of our ward members had received hate mail after their names, religious affiliation, contribution amounts, and addresses were published on a website inciting No On 8 supporters to target the listed individuals. Their houses and cars had been vandalized, their campaign support signs stolen, and opposition signs planted in their place.
When I returned home after the rally, I had a huge headache and my stomach was in knots. I am not a fan of confrontation, and the noise of the horn honking, both pro and con, and the divisive atmosphere inherent in the volatile situation had taken its toll. Still, after praying with my wife, I felt calmer and was pleased we had chosen to participate. While our efforts were miniscule compared to the hours of service to the cause provided by others, we had at least jumped down from the fence and done something.
Then I saw the latest No On 8 television commercial.
Tolerance?
Supposedly produced by an independent group not affiliated with the official No On 8 campaign, the thirty second commercial spot shows two scruffy male white actors portraying Mormon missionaries who force their way into the well-kept home of a married lesbian couple.
“Hi, we're from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” one says.
“We're here to take away your rights,” says his companion.
The missionaries then rip the wedding rings from the women's fingers and ransack the house until they find the women's marriage license, which they destroy.
“Hey, we have rights,” one of the women says.
“Not if we can help it,” answers a missionary.
Moving outside the residence, one of the missionaries smugly says, “That was easy.”
Flexing his muscles, his companion asks, “What do we want to ban next?”
While I was appalled by the commercial, I was even more appalled both MSNBC and The Comedy Channel happily took money to broadcast this overtly hate filled vignette. I cannot imagine a similar commercial, targeted at any other religious or racial group, not being considered a hate crime with a civic outcry for prosecution.
My hackles were beginning to rise in a distinctly unchristian way. However, the fun was just beginning.
Election Day And Aftermath
Election day in California saw numerous No On 8 activists distributing literature and vocalizing at polling sites in clear violation of election laws. Police were called, 100 yard distances from the polling places were paced off, yet the agitation continued.
Despite these efforts, Proposition 8 obtained a slim majority (52.5% to 47.5%). Exit polls showed the proposition was supported by 7 of 10 Black voters, a majority of Latino voters, and by people with children under the age of 18 still at home. Clearly, it was supported by all people who believed marriage is a special and protected institution.
The day after the election, spontaneous protests sprung up in West Hollywood – a small residential community, with a large gay and lesbian population, located within Los Angeles County , but just outside Los Angeles city borders. The protests did not have a particular focus or target other than outrage as they strayed outside the confines of West Hollywood and into Beverly Hills , Hollywood , and West Los Angeles . Several arrests were made, but the seething anger at the passage of Proposition 8 was not dampened.
On Thursday, however, two days after the election, rumors began to be picked up by LAPD of a large protest organized by gay and lesbian activists and their supporters to be staged outside the Los Angeles LDS temple on Santa Monica Boulevard in West Los Angeles.
LAPD has 22 geographic Areas divided between 4 administrative Bureaus . My investigative unit is attached to Operations-West Bureau – which has responsibility for the area where the Los Angeles temple grounds are located. We operate out of a squadroom across from the Bureau's administrative offices. In such proximity, I was in a position to observe the command post set up in the Bureau offices to monitor the actions of the field command post charged with keeping the already illegal (no permits) protest peaceful.
What I learned by watching and listening shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. During my 30+ year tenure, the LAPD as an organization has made great professional strides in the internal battle against sexual harassment, sexual orientation harassment, and racism. While there are still those in civil liberty organizations who contest we are still guilty of racially profiling on the streets (difficult to imagine when our department is so thoroughly integrated at this point in time), organizationally there is little or no tension remaining in these areas.
In the Bureau command post there was a large screen television displaying scenes from the protest outside the Los Angeles temple. Imagine my surprise, when angry protestors began rushing the closed temple gates, and I heard an officer in the command post say, “I hope they burn that place to the ground.”
Imagine my even stronger surprise when another officer replied, “They better hope they don't get through the gates, because the Mormons have an army in a bunker under the temple that will come out and kill them all.”
Really? My temple recommend must not be of a high enough clearance to get me into that part of the temple.
I'm now doing a slow burn. Not only am I watching a sacred building under siege from 2,500 angry people shouting, “ SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND HATE,” and carrying signs proclaiming MORMON HATERS and LOVE NOT HATE, I'm listening to other police officers who agree with the protestors or have the most imaginative fantasies about blood atonement armies hidden under the temple (exactly how do we feed them, drill them, get them in and out without anybody seeing, or are they all in a state of suspended animation until needed?).
I want to emphasize these were not officers or detectives from my own unit – who are all aware of my Mormon faith. Those in my unit who disagree with me over this issue are respectfully tolerant, as I am respectfully tolerant of their opposite beliefs. Tolerance, as Orson Scott Card recently pointed out, is indicative of disagreement. It is not a battle we choose to fight amongst ourselves. Most of us have known each other for a long time and are either embracing of, or oblivious to, our differences – divisiveness has no place in the types of investigations we conduct.
Click here to read part 2 of his article. It's pretty powerful
I've been waiting to be able to see this movie! The previews looked so good! I loved being a sister missionary! - Stephanie  |
My aunt, Patty, who is a most excellent chef sent
me this recipe. I haven't been able to try it.
But knowing my aunt, this has to be good!
MINUTE CHOCOLATE MUG CAKE
1 Coffee or Hot Chocolate Mug
4 tablespoons flour(that's plain flour,
not self-rising)
4 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons baking cocoa
1 egg
3 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons oil
3 tablespoons chocolate chips(optional)
Nuts (optional)
Small splash of vanilla
Add dry ingredients to mug, mix well. Add
egg and mix thoroughly.Pour in milk and
oil and mix well. Add chocolate chips and
nuts (if using)and vanilla, and mix again.
Put your mug in the microwave and cook for
3 minutes on high. The cake will rise over
the top of the mug, but don't be alarmed ...
it won't run over. Allow to cool a little,
and tip out onto a plate if desired. EAT!
(This can serve 2 if you want to share!)
"And why is this the most dangerous cake
recipe in the world? Because now we are all
only 5 minutes away from chocolate cake at
any time of the day or night!"
Thanks, Aunt Patty! Too bad I didn't have
this recipe to play with when I was working
on 101 Things To Do With Chocolate!!
A butterfly enjoying itself
I know this is late, but I've been meaning to write about last weekend. Last Friday (Halloween) Ivan arranged for Margie Delgado to watch Emma so we could go on a date while the other kids were in school. The Sunday before (with the kids help) he had sent me on a scavenger hunt looking for all kinds of clues which ended in an encoded message that I had to decode. The message stated that I needed to be ready for a date at 9 a.m. at our address on Friday morning. It was very detailed. I was very impressed!
Then, we drove back to our building in Marana to watch the Arizona Regional Broadcast with our own ward. The broadcast was really good. Elder Packer was the concluding speaker. He mentioned President Hinkley telling of hard times to come and emphasized that these times are now. I left the meeting with a sense of needing to make sure our food storage is in order and a renewed sense of securing our family spiritually.
Yesterday I arrived at the polls at 5 a.m. to help finish the preparations needed to open the polls at 6 a.m.. Our first voter arrived at 5:20 a.m.. Before 6 a.m. we had quite the line. By 6:30 the line wrapped completely around the building. Some waited an hour or longer to get their opportunity to vote. We had a constant line from 6 a.m. until 11 a.m.. Things slowed down for a couple hours with only 2-10 people in line to vote. Then, around 4:30 p.m. our lines picked back up and we had a constant line until we closed. Our line had about 20 people in line at 7 p.m. when we were able to close the line. As long as you are in line by 7 p.m., you are able to vote in Arizona. We were done by 7:30 with the voting section of the elections. After verifying our areas election results and putting everything away, I was able to get home a few minutes before 9 p.m.. McCain actually had the most votes casted that day in our area not including early voting or provisional ballets cast. He almost had double the votes of Obama. We were actual surprised by that, because our area is very democratic.
