Too Much Goodness

Have you ever had days that were so stock full of goodness you didn’t know how to put it all into words?  What do I want to remember most?  The visit with Granny?  The visit to a friend?  The evening spent in the company of my great-great-great grandfather’s military medals?

First things first, I must tell you how smart my grandmother is.  She’s a reflexology whiz, and could tell my just by looking at my tootsies… that my body isn’t assimilating proteins.  Do you know what that means?  THAT means I now have an excuse to buy up chickens to my heart’s content, raise them, butcher the better part of them, and keep a few to lay eggs for my breakfast and brunchy whims.  Typing that all out makes me sound a little less like a nurturing mother and a little more like a blood thirsty dictator.


After one great session with my grandmother, I raced to pick up the children from my sister-in-law and then I raced to pick up my husband from work and then I went the speed limit to Snowflake where I spent over an hour with my friend Jewel and her all-natural peanut butter.  Of course I ended up talking about myself much more than I should have -a great failing of mine that I’m constantly trying to remedy.  I do believe I’ll spend the better part of my life trying to conquer my personality failings.  I need to let my real outlet be this blog and leave it at that.  I spent the entire drive home wondering how the heck Jewel really was, and I was in a bad state of remorse for not being a better friend.  My one consolation? That I’d have another try.  We’ll take our husbands and our childrens and we will grill meats and eat salads.  Date impending.

After leaving Jewel’s, we went home and ate some dinner.

We ate some boneless, skinless chicken breast that I had made in the crockpot earlier that day.  Granny told me two very important things:

#1)I need to stop eating store bought meat as much as possible -chicken is the very worst sort on account of the antibiotics and horomones in the meat.  My body is not assimilating proteins and my store-bought chicken intake is not helping.  I must give it up and replace it like a blood thirsty Hitler, which -despite my naturally nurturing nature -I’m happy to do.

#2) I need to chew my food better.  This is a monumental task for me given that I was raised in a family of six children who all raced to see who could eat fastest.

As I ate my chicken last night, I thought the least I could do was chew.  I had to concentrate on chewing.  Isn’t that a little sad?  A little pathetic?  I thought so, anyway.  I got over it, though, when I knew at the end of my chewing I’d be rewarded with

THE medals. The medals I’ve heard so much talk of! They were in my hands!

That’s him decked out in his medals. Isn’t he the best looking man you’ve ever seen (husbands aside)? He lived about the same time Jane Austen did, though I’d venture to say that he outdoes all of her heroes. He is incomparable.
He was so adored that he had 14 wives.
Okay, I just had to throw that in there. I don’t think he had 14 wives on account of his looks. I think he had 14 wives because some women needed a husband and he was up to the task (what a champ). I might also throw in that he didn’t take a second wife until after the death of his first wife. I might also throw in that his second wife was the widow of his brother. I might ALSO throw in that he married a woman by the same name as his first wife (Maren Katherine -who I come through) (the first one, not the second one), and I’m wondering if that ever threw him for a loop.
A quick excerpt from his journal:
On May 24th (1851), I took employment in
Copenhagen. While here I was afforded
the opportunity to hear about a religious
movement called Mormonism, the correct
name is, “The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints.” I was informed about its
truthfulness by the Lord, who was the originator
of the same, and he gave me about
it. One of the Elders of the Church, Elder
Christiansen, visited me at the room where
I resided. During our conversation he put
his hand upon my previously mentioned
injured knee. I then thought to myself, if
he is a servant of God, like unto those of
olden times, then the healing power should
affect me because of being touched by
him. He had no knowledge of my injury.
As he touched me, I felt a chill go over my
whole body. I excused my self and left the
room to remove the bandage from my
knee and, from that time on, I was made
well and whole.

And now a few more pictures:

Thanks to Google’s translator, I can tell you the wording on the medal says:

The words on the above medal translate to “GOD AND KING.”

This little guy was hard to make out.

I haven’t the slightest what it means, and I’m very sorry for it.

Jens Hansen was an amazing man who rose up from the depths of poverty as a child to become a Latter-Day Saint Pioneer. His son, Joseph (the only surviving child from his marriage to Maren Katherine the First) helped to settle the place I live in now. Joseph’s son, Delbert, helped the place I live in now to flourish.  Delbert’s son, Eugene, brought economy to our little town through his dairy and ranching. And Eugene’s son -my dad – continues the tradition on, working in a mechanic shop Delbert Hansen helped to build up.  My father’s son is carrying on that tradition. It’s in his blood, it would seem.

The Hansen Boys’ hands are all callused from hard work, and everything those calluses touch tend to flourish.  Hard work has a wonderful way of making an oasis out of a desert, it seems.
Many thanks to Aunt Sarah May for letting me barge into her home last night and take pictures of every little thing she put in front of my face AND for giving me a CD full of great information and great pictures.
Like this one:
I think it’s officially safe to blame my obstinate facial hair on my great great great grandfather.


  1. ARE you kidding?
    I did plenty of talking, too. You’re totally good–it’s just nice to have someone to listen/talk to who isn’t complaining about how he doesn’t want to wear pajamas to bed, he WANTS TO WEAR HIS COAT!
    So I was happy to see you–even though it wasn’t for nearly long enough. Could I maybe come over and play sometime during the day this week? :)
    Your ancestry is amazing, by the way. No wonder you’re so incredible. It’s in your blood.

  2. Thanks soo much! I really need to start looking at stuff like that. I heard something of that conversion story, but I’d never actually read it before!

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