Rosemary's Ramblings

Blog about July, from the Rambler.
First a couple of extracts from my journal:
Friday 1st July
Today Ray got up really early [by our standard] and suggested going somewhere as the weather promised another great day. I decided on Te Aroha, in the opposite direction from yesterday's 'adventure' to Mangakino. Interesting thought occurs. Adventures are relative to one's stage of life and ability. I remember the first time I explored the bottom field at Braichyceunant. It was enchanting to an 8-year old newly arrived on the farm, with the stream running in many channels down the slope, with rocks and grass in between. I wondered at the time whether that was too tame a discovery to be called an 'adventure'. I asked my mother when I got home whether it was important enough to be called an adventure. I claim now that it was, for do I not remember it clearly to this day? For octogenarians of scanty means, such little expeditions from home may be classed as 'adventures'. An adventure is what one thinks it is, I guess. Unless a seriously real adventure just happens to happen.

Surprisingly, the trip to Te Aroha was very little longer than the one to Mangakino. I had an unpleasant happening as we started out. I could not remember which way we had to go! A mental gap. 'Osteoporosis of the mind', someone described Alzheimers. We stopped to look at the map. As we were then on the way to Tirau, we continued that way. I remembered the rest of the way!

We called in at the Information centre, where Ray talked to Michelle, who had first told us of the Wetlands a couple of years ago. We wanted a map of the swamp and the way there. I thought I remembered the way there, but could I trust my memory now? So about 10am we walked around the swamp. The track we took was swampy too, after recent rains. Should have worn stronger shoes. It was cold at first, in the trees, but we soon warmed up. The paths became drier. There was a better view of the water now the deciduous trees are mostly leafless.

We walked around to the Te Aroha hospital and the Lawrence Rest Home which is attached to it. An old lady was sitting in her wheel chair on the porch. She asked Ray if he would wheel her in. Ray was only too pleased to get inside, so that he could talk to the receptionist after he had delivered the old lady to her room. She had been sitting outside, bundled with shawls about her shoulders, but with bare feet! I could not believe it! For walking her feet were obviously useless, but could they not feel anything either? They were purple. Ray was told the facilities were free, but depended on a means test. A beautiful situation. But if one was room-bound, what good would the views of Mt Te Ahora and the Kaimais be, if one's window faced in another direction. In fact I think maybe one has to back away a little to see the mountains anyway, because of the trees of the swamp. And a lovely walk so near, what good if one could not walk? Our old lady was mentally alert at 94 and did crosswords. She said she sometimes forgot a word she really knew, and would wake up the night remembering it!

Sunday 24 July
In the evening I watched a Cold Case episode Who Killed Jesus. Not the Jews, was the thesis, but Pilate. The later Christians altered the scripture story to blame the Jews, to keep in favour with the Romans. Jesus was born in Nazareth. Herod did not order the slaughter of the babies, and if he killed the Baptist it was not for the reason given. The Gospels are not reliable because there were no eye witness to the Gethsemane experience and much of the rest is made up too. There were no miracles. The way the program was presented was of course logical, with many a learned scholar being interviewed. What made it less than credible was that none of the scholars nor the interviewer ever seemed to consider that Jesus might really be the Son of God. That Jesus was God. There were a couple of things that were incontrovertible. Apparently the hill of Golgotha is a hill of solid rock, so small on top that there would scarcely have been room for one cross, let alone three. And even the industrious Romans would scarcely drill into solid rock to plant a cross when there were other places. Jesus may have been crucified on a tree. [Which is interesting as old songs talk of 'the tree' whereon Jesus was crucified, which I thought was just being poetic.]

The philosophies of men. As even Ray thinks the Book of Mormon has to be true, and the writers of that book verify the stories of Jesus on earth, or many of them, I do not think we have to worry, though we may have to revise some of our cherished misconceptions when the truth is revealed. A thought occurred to me: when we enter the Spirit World, and find out that much of what we believed on earth was false, could we apostatize at that late date?

Other happenings: The last week in July was Temple Week, so I dutifully attended. I found that most days I could only endure four sessions a day. Whether that is from getting old or from getting weak in perseverance I have not decided. An interesting thing is that the one day I was prompted to do the fifth session, that was the session I enjoyed most. I sort of covenanted that if the Lord would keep me alert, I would keep myself attentive. It was amazing how much more I took in. Sometimes I wonder how much of my mood is influenced by the women whose names I take. One session I was feeling happy and the time went speeding by. I thought maybe the 'other' was responsible for that. Another day I did a session where I got feeling more and more depressed. I thought maybe that woman somehow knew her name was being taken [in vain?] and was annoyed about it. Certainly as soon as I was through, the black mood lifted.

What else did I do in July? Read over the letters Nathan sent home from his mission, with parts of his journal. I wanted to find things of interest I could quote to Dylan and Ellen, [I got Nathan's permission!] because I often have a hard time finding things to fill my weekly letters to my missionary grandchildren. A comment Elder Nathan Petty wrote in a letter made me smile. He said something to the effect of how many letters I must have written to my children over the years. Little did I think I would be writing letters to his children nearly 30 years later!

I prepared the ground and bought raspberry and strawberry plants. I bought two new rose plants. Although I thought I had prepared for them also, I found one should not plant a rose where roses have previously grown. Nor where have grown potatoes, tomatoes or dahlias. I had a hard time deciding where to rob for soil uncontaminated by these things. Then I pushed wheelbarrow loads of earth back and forth, exchanging soil. Hope roses appreciate it. One rose is gift from Margaret. I decided the one from her would be the one called Blackberry Nip. I had made a list of scented roses, because that is what I wanted, and the Nursery had two of my list, so I got them both. The other is Aotearoa.

That will be more than enough for this blog. From Nan the Rambler.