Following the Path

Compass given me by grandson, Drew Smith

I have gotten lost on quite a few occasions as I travel around. We used to just have a map that we traveled with to let us know where we were and where it was that we wanted to go. You really needed a navigator to ride with you so you wouldn’t get lost. Actually, I did get lost even with a navigator. There were some places that I knew how to get to without any problems or the use of a map. The route was always the same if I was going down to Boulder City to see my parents. If you were to make a wrong turn and get off of the path, it was often difficult to correct your direction to arrive at the desired destination.
One time I was traveling to California to see my daughter and her family, I had gotten about halfway there and I got off of the highway and stayed in a motel overnight. Arising the next morning, I ate breakfast, paid my bill and started out on my way. It was to prove more difficult getting back on the highway than getting off. Luckily, I had my trusted little companion which told me where to turn and which way to go. You know one of those gadgets that you plug into your cigarette power button and tell it where it is that you want to go and even shows you a little map. I followed the directions several times and ended up at the edge of a field with a cow pasture between me and the highway. Each time I would go and retrace my steps, but ended up at the same dead end looking at the cow pasture with the highway on the other side. At this point I realized that the little machine had a sense of humor. The final time I arrived at the same spot a sweet voice said “prepare to go across country.”
I could hardly believe what I had heard, but that was it. I finally turned the damn thing off and found my own way back onto the highway. I think that sometimes I go around and around doing the same stupid stuff until I decide that I can’t get on the highway using the same directions. I need to follow the designated path.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Some of My Testimony

Image
November 2019 Carl Stubbs As a young man, I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps as far as the Church was concerned. He had a strong testimony of the gospel, and he instilled that belief into me by his example. There were many people in my life that helped me along the way. I soon learned that the Church was true, but that all of the people who were members were not always so, including myself. Some of the men that were influential in my life besides my father were Frosty Traasdahl, Karl Snow, Glenn Snow, Jake Williams, Bert Whitney, M J Christensen and Bishop Cheeseman. I’m sure there were others, but these are the ones that come quickly to memory. One that I met prior to my mission was Alma Sonne who was the one that called me on a mission. I have always believed that the Church was true and have known that all of us are not exempt from the temptations of the world. I believe that we are all attempting to do our very best with the abilities that we have been given. As I went...
Read more

The Board of Education

Image
As I watch several of my children who are in education work during this coronavirus, I see them using the internet to reach their students. This writing will probably let you know that I started teaching many years ago. I will help you out with that. The first year I taught in public school was 1968. It was at Orem High School. Carl Stubbs in classroom D-2, 1985 In my room, D-2, the chalkboards were black. Not long after, it was determined that green was a much better color, easier for the students to see. I was not teaching there long before they came in one summer and put in the new improved green boards. They were still called blackboards by the teachers and students. These boards worked just fine for many years. I should deviate from the story of boards to let you know that my penmanship is not good. In fact, it is terrible. In fact, I remember in college I would take good notes, but have to hurry home and type them before I forgot what they said. I had a difficult time...
Read more

Kansas

Image
Written on October 12, 2020 As a young man between eighth and ninth grade, I had the opportunity to go from Boulder City to Kansas to work on my uncle’s farm. I say given the opportunity, but I was really just shipped out. His farm was in the southwest corner of Kansas. Looking back after sixty-two years I realize that my parents, my dad, in particular, wanted me out of town. I’m not sure why, but I guess I was not all that enjoyable to have around. I can’t even remember the name of the little towns they lived by, but I remember the farm. I suspect that my uncle Harry and his wife Inez were not that excited to have me there, but they treated me ok. I was there for about three months. They had two sons who were older than me. Duane was eighteen and Manley was about twenty. An old wheat truck like the one on my uncle's farm I got to work on the family farm driving a tractor, a large wheat truck, and a 1947 Kaiser-Frazer car. After work and on the weekends, I was allowed to driv...
Read more