SCD Yogurt – Instant Pot Recipe

I use an Instant Pot Ultra for making SCD Yogurt. The specific instructions below only apply to the Ultra (mine is from 2018ish?). Yogurt is pretty easy to make & you can adapt my instructions below to suit any appliance where you can control the various temperature requirements. I’m sure yogurt could be manually cooked on a stovetop in a generic pan – again just ensure the temperatures & times are followed closely.

Sterilize Pot

• Put pot into Instant Pot
• Put 1″ water in pot
• Put lid on pot
• Set Instant Pot to Sterilize & Start
• When pressure button pops up, turn off Instant Pot
• Remove pot & pour water into sink (it’s boiling – don’t touch it)
• Don’t rinse or touch inside of pot

Heat Milk (to kill bacteria you don’t want)

• Return pot to Instant Pot
• Pour 1 gallon whole milk into pot
• Set Instant Pot to Sauté & Start
• Stir until milk reaches 180 degrees (scrape bottom constantly to prevent scalding)

Cool Milk to 70-100 degrees

• Put cold water in sink – just high enough to cover half the Instant Pot pot.
• Put pot into sink – be careful not to touch milk or get water in it
• Dry outside of Instant Pot pot
• Return pot to Instant Pot

Mix in Yogurt Starter – Stir Thoroughly

I use this yogurt starter Custom Probiotics Yogurt Starter Formula 1

• Stir in Yogurt Starter – follow directions on packet or bottle
• Set Instant Pot to Yogurt: Set timer to 24 hours
  (up to 30 hours) / Med temp (107 degrees)
• Put lid on Instant Pot
• After 24 – 30 hours – Turn off Instant Pot
• Move Instant Pot pot to refrigerator (cover with lid)
• Cool for 8+ hours
• Strain for greek yogurt (8+ hours)

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These 2 or 3 bacteria are required for SCD Yogurt

1. Lactobacillus bulgaricus
2. Streptococcus thermophilus
3. Lactobacillus acidophilus (optional)

I use this yogurt starter Custom Probiotics Yogurt Starter Formula 1

Make sure yogurt starter does not contain any Bifidus related bacteria

1. Bifidobacterium infantis
2. Bifidobacterium bifidum
3. Lactobacillus Bifidus
4. Bifidobacterium longum etc

My Simple Approach To Fasting

I have several years of positive experiences with fasting and am a staunch believer in its benefits. While fasting is growing in popularity, it is still a huge mystery to most people. Fasting to me simply means only consuming water for 24+ hours. I’ve only met a handful of people who have ever actually “fasted”. Most people believe they will literally die if they miss a meal. Riiiiiiiight…

I believe fasting is effective because of 2 million years of human evolution. Until a few thousand years ago, humans rarely had a steady supply of food. Human bodies evolved based on our eating habits which were smaller amounts and frequently, inconsistent supply. Evolution isn’t measured in thousands of year – our digestive tracts are the same as our ancestors’ who had to hunt for food every day.

Fasting is not new or a fad. Even after our ancestors figured out how to get food to eat 3 meals a day, many cultures continued fasting in their eating practices. Many religions still include fasting as part of their disciplines.

How do you go about fasting?

Fasting is the simplest diet on earth. You pick a start day & stop eating. Drink plenty of water throughout the day. Keep doing that as long as you want & feel good. That’s all there is to it!

For me, the first day is usually very easy. The second day is when I feel hungry. If I can make it through the second day I usually can go several days. People regularly incorrectly associate hunger with low blood sugar. Hunger is caused by the brain releasing the hormone ghrelin. I’ve tested my blood sugar 5x daily during a 5 day fast and my results were always between 70 – 100, which is nearly perfect (and better than my normal blood sugar levels). I usually start feeling a diminished energy level on day 3 and have to decrease the intensity while exercising.

I usually set a number of days goal before starting a fast. Fasting is mostly a test of will power & this helps me stick to the plan. Ignore a headache or minor feelings when fasting – they will typically pass quickly. If I start feeling really bad during a fast I’ll break it. My advice for breaking a fast is to eat something mellow and a small portion. I’ve never had any food bother me when breaking a fast, but eating too much is very uncomfortable.

The most common question I get asked about fasting is: “How long do you fast?”

Here are my recommendations:

Twice yearly 5+ day fasts

To lose weight: Fast Monday, Wednesday & Friday

To maintain weight: Fast Tuesday & Thursday

There are many benefits to fasting and those benefits vary based on duration. There are a bunch of benefits to fasting for 24 hours. You will see reductions in all of these areas:

Insulin Resistance                   Inflammation

Blood Pressure                        Triglycerides

Cholesterol                              Weight

The largest benefit of a 5 day fast is Autophagy. “Auto” means self and “phagy” means eat. Autophagy is the body’s way of cleaning out damaged cells, in order to regenerate newer, healthier cells. Simply put – this is one of the key ways our body fights cancer. It takes a couple days of fasting for autophagy to kick in. I like to give my body the benefits of autophagy for 3+ days. Doing this a couple times each year will decrease the chances of getting cancer – that’s a huge benefit.

I’m pretty good at doing 5 day fasts, but I’m sporadic following the 24 hour fasting schedule. The longest fast I’ve completed was 15 days.

Finally the overall benefit of fasting is longevity. I don’t really want to live longer, but I sure want to maintain my quality of life until the end.

If you stop reading now, you have 95% of the info necessary to implement fasting into your life and get 95% of the benefits.

There are 2 smaller, common topics that I think are worth covering. The first is Intermittent Fasting. I think that term is misleading and a much better term is Time Restricted Feeding. Time Restricted Feeding is when you only eat within a small window of hours any day when you eat. The most common schedule is eating during an 8 hour window & not eating the other 16 hours. For example, eating for the first time at 10am and not eating after 6pm. Many take this further, eating 1 meal per day. I think Time Restricted Feeding is absolutely worthwhile. The benefit is simply giving your digestive system a break every day. Our bodies are not designed to process food 100% of the time. Imagine the impact to your muscles by lifting weights or running 16 hours a day – that’s what you’re doing to your gut.

Second, is Fasting-Mimicking. This is simply eating 500 or fewer calories in a day. There have been many studies that show the body gets most of the benefits of a water only fast if calorie intake is kept very low. I agree with the concept, but personally I find it easier to not eat anything. For me, a banana leads to a sandwich.

My bottom line is this – everyone should fast. Fasting is to eating as exercise is to fitness. Fasting and exercise are infinitely better than any pill.

17 Year Old Male Maturity

My crew in 2001

Growing up in Utah County, Utah, in the late 1970s and having an absolute rebel soul, I HATED BYU. I had two overpowering reasons to hate BYU – because EVERYONE in my world LOVED BYU and because BYU was highly successful in football & basketball. My rebel soul dictated that I oppose popular opinion and despise the king of the hill.

I didn’t really care about sports teams when I was a young kid. I loved to play sports, but growing up well out of town, I didn’t play organized sports. One summer I talked my mom into letting me play city baseball & I was put on a team with the best athlete in Lehi. He pitched & hit homeruns. We won the championship. My role on that team sport was standing out in centerfield watching kids get struck out. I may as well have been watching from the stands. It didn’t spark my competitive spirit, so I didn’t play organized ball again. When I got to high school I played church basketball, which certainly didn’t count as “organized”.

I also didn’t watch sports on TV and wasn’t a fan of any team… until puberty hit. I don’t know what happened, but suddenly I got interested in sports and realized that I was immersed in BYU-land. That’s when I realized I hated BYU.

In the late 70’s & early 80’s, BYU was by far the best sports school in Utah. The University of Utah would win a game here & there, but the word “rivalry” didn’t even occur to me at that time. A rivalry requires a chance of winning and it was always the same – BYU always won.

I often watched BYU play on TV – praying that the great teams across the country would beat them. I was sorely disappointed practically every time. I remember being at the high school Christmas dances in ’80 & ’81, watching BYU play in the Holiday Bowl on a 9” TV we smuggled into the gym. Both years BYU fell behind by a bunch and my hopes rose as the clock ticked down. Both years BYU came from behind in miraculous last second victories and crushed my dreams.

I was 17 and I HATED BYU. The pinnacle of my hate for BYU came in my senior year, when I applied to attend BYU, complete with my Bishop’s interview, and was accepted. I went to all that effort just so I could say NO! to BYU. That’s 17 year old male hate right there.

Fast forward a few years to when I was 28 years old. My brain was fully developed and I had 2 sons. One day I realized that I didn’t want to teach my sons to hate BYU. I didn’t want my sons learning to cheer for someone to fail. I wanted my sons to live a life cheering for someone’s success. We adopted the University of Utah as our team. We watched their games and we cheered for their success. We cheered particularly hard when they played BYU, but I never encouraged my kids to hate BYU. I’m pretty sure all of the U’s success since then is because my family started cheering for them!

Eventually, life taught me that BYU’s success added to the state’s success and to the success of the University of Utah. The U beating a bad BYU team meant little. The U beating a great BYU team was epic!

I’ve seen this lesson over and over in my life – especially in my career. Success is limitless. Someone else succeeding doesn’t prevent or even limit my success. More importantly, helping other people succeed usually added to my own success.

The world today has lost sight of this important lesson. People are cheering against others – all others – cheering for their failures. The most popular “other” to cheer against is the President of the United States. Almost exactly half the U.S. cheers against the current President. So it was for the last President, and appears it will be for the next President.

I can only conclude that people never stop to consider what happens if the President, or any other politician, fails. If the last 20 years have shown us anything, it is that cheering against the President only divides the country. It doesn’t lead to the President’s impeachment. It doesn’t improve our country. It doesn’t make anyone more successful. It erodes our society and our future.

If the United States is going to succeed, the entire population – both sides, not just those cheering against the current President – must support & cheer for the President. Absolutely hold politicians accountable – but work to help them succeed.

It’s time to stop acting like 17 year old males. It’s time to use our fully developed brains and cheer for our politicians to succeed. All of them, all of the time. If you cheer for the failure of the President, you are teaching the children in your life to hate. It’s time to teach our children that success is unlimited. Time to teach our children to cheer for our society and our country. Time to teach them that the best way to ensure their success is to build up each other.

Time to teach our children to cheer for BYU.

The Saddlebag Buck

Everything happens for a reason – that’s a theory I’ve never believed. When it comes to hunting, I’ve always subscribed to the “outwit, outwork, out persist your prey” approach. Once in a while though, something happens to make me question my beliefs. This hunt was one of those times…

In November 2019 I was in Idaho hunting mule deer with my son, Jake, who had drawn the permit. A few years earlier we had each drawn a permit to hunt the unit so we knew the area pretty well. This year was drier and warmer than our past hunts and I figured that meant even more work & more persistence would be required to succeed.

I arrived a couple days earlier than Jake and used the time looking for a good buck to chase once Jake arrived. At dawn on my first morning I was sitting just off a dirt road with a spotting scope setup on the truck window. I was glassing a canyon about a mile away where Jake and I had chased a couple big bucks the year he had the permit. I had located a decent buck with a half dozen does, along with a 6×6 bull elk. It was a good start considering the lack of snow meant the deer weren’t concentrated in their usual rutting areas.

A steady stream of cow elk hunters drove past me, headed for greener pastures, so I wasn’t concerned about competition. About an hour after sunup, a truck pulled up behind me and the driver walked up to my open window. He said hello & asked if I was hunting deer, I said I was and we talked for about 20 minutes. He said he was hunting cow elk and had been there about a week. He also said he had hunted deer on the unit a couple times when he’d been lucky enough to draw the permit. He was unusually helpful as most hunters closely guard their secret spots, even on a unit that is almost impossible to get a permit. Since he was so helpful, I did my best to reciprocate with the areas I’d seen elk in the past. We traded phone numbers and offers to let each other know if we saw the other’s critters. As part of saying goodbye, I offered him my name and my hand, which he shook and introduced himself as Ryan Moore.

I spent the rest of that day & the first half of the next looking over areas that had held deer the last time we’d had the permit. I found a couple more decent bucks and was feeling pretty good about our chances. Friday afternoon I took Ryan’s parting suggestion and rode my ATV around to the backside of one of the peaks overlooking the valley. With no snow, I was able to get to the end of the ATV trail, where I spotted a good 170” 4×4 buck with a few does. He was far up the peak but was the best buck I’d seen. I figured we’d likely be back to chase him.

Jake arrived that night and the next morning we were glassing our favorite canyon. We located the same medium buck and a couple other medium bucks that had moved into the canyon. None of them were big enough to commit a day hiking to get on them, so we left to glass a few other spots. That evening we parked above some wheat fields where we could glass the hillsides and the stubble fields. We saw a lot of deer, including a couple whitetails, but not what we were looking for. We decided to go high and climb the south side of the peak the next day, and if we didn’t find anything on the top, we’d drop over and see if we could locate the 170” buck.

We left the truck at 4:00am the next morning and headed up – straight up. When dawn arrived nearly 3 hours later, we were at about 9200’ with a spectacular view of several deep canyons and the valley below us. We glassed each canyon and came up empty. We kept climbing and glassing, and when we sat down just below the peaks at about 9800’, we still hadn’t seen any deer. We did get to enjoy a dozen mountain goats across the canyon. With little snow on the south face, they stood out like beacons. We had to go around the peak to get on top of the 170” buck we hoped was still there. As often happens, when we got to the ridge where we expected to look down the backside, we discovered we had several more canyons to work across to get to where I’d seen the buck. We were both worn out and knew we’d be hiking out in the dark as it was, so we decided to call it a day and head down.

At dusk we crossed into the canyon that had the best trail and we spotted a few bedded cow elk. I made a mental note to let Ryan know where we’d seen them. Darkness settled in as we cleared the pines and came out into the sage brush. We were about a mile from the truck when I noticed something odd, laying on the ground, in the beam of my flashlight. I walked over to it and found it was a set of saddlebags. They were leather and clearly hadn’t been there for long. I checked inside hoping to find a name or number, but only found a couple water bottles. I debated what to do with them since I had no way to get them back to their owner. I decided to carry them out and hang them on the barricade at the end of the paved road. That way there’d be a chance the owner, or someone who knew the owner, would find them.

When we finally made it to camp and I climbed in bed, I had 3 charley horses at one time in my legs – a new record. There was no debating the plan the next morning – we were going to glass from the truck and rest our legs. We saw a couple nice bucks, but still not the size we hoped to find, so we spent midday napping. That evening we drove around checking some new spots, but didn’t see any deer. We were just about to head back to camp when I got a text message from Ryan, with a grainy picture of a big, heavy horned buck. He said he had a friend who was hunting moose on the unit and had seen the buck that morning. He told me the area where the buck had been, and it was an area I knew well. While locating a particular buck during the rut is always a longshot, we were thrilled with the info and excited to look for him the next morning.

After grilling Ryan for every detail he could tell us about the buck’s location, I told him where we’d seen the cow elk the day before. He mentioned that he had been at the base of the mountain 3 days earlier and had seen elk near the peak, but decided they didn’t have time to get to them, even on horseback. When he said “horses” a light turned on in my head, and I asked Ryan if he had lost some saddlebags. He said he had saddlebags on his horse, but didn’t think they’d fallen off. I told him we’d be driving past the area on the way to camp and would check to see if the bags were still hanging on the barricade. Thirty minutes later, I had the saddlebags in hand and from a photo I sent, Ryan confirmed they were indeed his. Ryan was shaking his head as he said, “I can’t believe you found my saddlebags before I even knew they were missing!” I had found a set of saddlebags, a mile off the road, in 4’ tall sagebrush, in the dark, 20 miles from where, five days earlier, I’d met Ryan for the first time. I believe in karma – but in my experience she works very slowly. I knew even finding the buck would be a longshot, but if we did, this would be a great story.

The next morning we were in position well before light hoping to find the big buck. As light dawned, it became clear that there was no way the buck had been where Ryan described. We started driving the nearby roads looking for any sign of deer. An hour after sunup I figured we were out of luck. I drove down a little dead-end road that we’d already glassed from a couple times. This time when I put up the binoculars I immediately spotted several deer in a sage clearing across the canyon. I grabbed the spotting scope and it only took an instant to know I was looking at the buck in the picture. From the picture I knew he had a big, heavy frame, but now I could see he had 3 points on his right side and more than 4 on the left. He had 5 does and a little buck with him. I also knew we had less than an hour before they would all slip into the pines and bed. Jake & I decided to go up the road, cross the canyon to the top of the ridge and try to sneak down on top of the deer while they were still out feeding.

Ten minutes later we left the truck and headed cross country as fast as we could. The change in perspective threw us off and we ended up sneaking down the wrong ridge. When we realized what we’d done, we knew it was too late to attempt another stalk. The wind had picked up and was blowing straight out of the south, right over the top to where the deer would have been. Maybe we were lucky that we hadn’t been on the ridge above them.

We headed back to the truck and drove back to where we’d originally spotted the buck. No deer, but that wasn’t a surprise. A couple hours later Jake spotted the buck and a single doe standing in a small, snow-covered clearing. We watched them feed for about 10 minutes until they disappeared in the thick pines. At least we hadn’t blown them out of the canyon. We still had a chance.

We spent the afternoon easing around our side of the canyon looking for a spot that put us within shooting distance from the snow patch & the sage clearing. We settled in a spot about 400 yards from the snow patch and 500 yards from the sage. We’d done enough shooting that summer that I was confident in Jake making a 400 yard shot. Though if the buck showed in the sage, we’d have to get closer. We sat there for 4 hours with no sign of any deer until, just moments before dark, I spotted a doe standing in some sparse pines several hundred yards up the canyon from where we’d last seen the buck. Before I could explain to Jake where the doe was standing, I saw another doe run through my field of vision – with the big buck hot on her tail. We were about 600 yards away so we grabbed our gear and hustled down the hillside toward the deer. We got to within 400 yards and watched as the buck chased the doe, never once standing still, until the last light left the canyon. We’d had our chance and didn’t get it done.

The next morning we were parked on the same dead-end road. The spotting scope was setup on the truck window, trained on the sagebrush clearing across the canyon. Hoping the universe was willing to help us cross paths with the buck one more time, I kept my eye pressed to the spotting scope as little by little, I started to make out shapes across the canyon. As I tried to make one of the shapes grow horns, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I lifted my head from the spotting scope and there – 20 yards from me – the big buck popped out from behind a cedar tree. Twenty. Yards.

I stammered at Jake “HE’S RIGHT THERE!” When Jake couldn’t locate him I hissed “PUT DOWN YOUR BINOCULARS!” The jolt of adrenaline was unbelievable. I don’t remember the last time I had buck fever hit me like that. I finally came to my senses and started scrambling in the back seat to get the rifle out of the case. When I finally got the rifle out of the case I turned back in my seat to find the buck standing on a little ridge 50 yards from the truck. I could have easily leaned out the open window and shot him left handed. Instead, I handed the gun to Jake and said, “Good luck”. I swear all Jake did was raise his hand toward the door handle and the buck knew it was time to go. He didn’t run, he just trotted over the ridge out of sight. Jake and I both clambered out, trying to be quiet, but failing spectacularly. We were in tennis shoes, no coats, no gloves, no gear, and it was frigid. Not that we noticed the cold as we walked as fast as we could in the dim light to where the buck had last stood. As we crossed the ridge, there was 300 yards of sagebrush in every direction, but there was no buck. Jake headed uphill toward some pines and I headed down towards some quakies. We met up 15 minutes later, neither having seen a glimpse of the buck.

Now I was depressed. The kind of depression you only know if you’ve had a huge buck taunt you at 20 yards and get away. Our shaking switched from adrenaline to freezing. We knew we’d been beat and headed back to the truck. Not only had we let the chance of a lifetime escape us, the buck had left his does and was alone. That made things much worse. A lone big buck during the rut would likely be 5 miles away by the end of the day. We solemnly put on our coats, boots and packs then headed into the canyon. We spent the morning glassing and didn’t see a single deer. I figured we were done – not even the universe could keep a rutting buck in that little canyon once he’d left his does. We went back to camp to sulk and wait for evening. Late afternoon found us back in the same spot, this time sitting in a pretty good snow storm. We didn’t see anything that evening, but were encouraged that we’d have some fresh snow in the morning.

The next morning greeted us with 2” of fresh snow; not much, but it’d have to do. We were back in the same spot before light. This time with boots on, gun out of the case, gear ready to go – just in case the buck tried his luck next to the truck again. Naturally, big bucks know when you’re ready and never show up when you are. We sat in the truck until it was light enough to glass the canyon and determine there were no deer out in the open. Our plan was to go straight across the canyon and meet in the sagebrush opening where we’d first seen the buck. With fresh snow on the ground, we’d be able to see all the deer in the area by their tracks. If we cut a big buck track, we’d take up the chase.

An hour later, Jake and I stood on the ridge above the sagebrush clearing comparing notes. We had both seen a handful of tracks, but none the size we’d expect for the big buck. I was disappointed, but not surprised. I figured that buck to be courting does in the next county by then. We decided to cross the next canyon, again looking for big buck tracks. We both cut more deer tracks than the first canyon, but the end result was the same – no big buck tracks.

The country in front of us had been burned and a quick scan showed no critters and no tracks in the fresh snow. We talked over our options, and Jake opted to head for the highest peak we could see, about 2 miles away as the crow flies. We could see a big clearing in the pines that had a lot of tracks crossing it. I figured they were probably elk tracks, but it was still early and I agreed we should be out moving while the snow lasted.

We had just started off the ridge when Jake spotted a couple hunters walking along the trail below us. I asked if he wanted to keep moving or talk with them, he opted to wait and see if they would climb the ridge to talk with us – which they soon did. The hunters were after bull moose and hadn’t seen any since their hunt had opened nearly 2 months earlier. We told them we’d seen a lone young bull 2 nights earlier, just down the ridge from where we were standing. They told us where they had seen a decent 4 point buck about twenty minutes earlier. We knew from the description it wasn’t the big buck we’d been chasing. The moose hunters headed off toward the young bull and I asked Jake if he wanted to go up on the mountain or try to find the buck they’d seen. He wanted to check out the buck.

We backtracked the moose hunters, and everywhere they had stopped, we also stopped and glassed. After about an hour we were near the road and hadn’t seen any deer. As we were now an hour later and a mile further from the mountain, we decided to call it a day, head back to the truck and regroup. We started down toward the road when I suggested we should take the straight path to the truck through the pines instead. There was a little snow left and this was the canyon where we’d been seeing the buck. I asked Jake if he wanted uphill or down. He chose downhill and we split up, separating by a few hundred yards. This part of the story I’ll share as Jake later relayed it to me.

“I had walked about 200 yards into the pines when I jumped a couple does out of their beds. I walked off the hilltop to check out their tracks and make sure I’d seen all the deer. Their tracks were clear and definitely only 2 does. I followed their tracks for about a hundred yards down into the pines when I cut some bigger tracks. I spent a few minutes sorting out the new tracks and decided they weren’t a big deer. From there I followed the contour of the hill, working through the thick pines and downfall. About 30 minutes from when we’d separated, I stepped into a small clearing. I took a quick look around and… standing in the pines 100 yards to my left was a nice buck. I didn’t think it was THE buck, but the moment I got the glasses on him I saw that big 3 point right side. It was THE buck and he was still standing there! I lowered my binoculars and took my rifle off my shoulder, every moment expecting him to bolt. I raised the gun, easily found him in the scope and squeezed off a shot. The buck jumped and ran to my left. He stopped after about 50 yards and I figured he was done for. I debated shooting again, and in hindsight I probably should have. But within a few seconds he started stumbling and went down.”

I heard the shot and while I hoped Jake had run into the buck, I knew the odds of getting a buck in the pines were about the same as winning the lottery. But, hey, Idaho has a lottery, and you only win if you play! I whistled, yelled and even tried my cell phone but I couldn’t locate Jake. I knew he would eventually head for the truck one way or the other, so I headed that way, too. About a half hour later, Jake came out of the trees. When he got close, I asked if it was him that shot. He couldn’t hide the smile any longer as he admitted the buck was down. I was stunned. Heck, I’m STILL stunned!

A few hours later we were headed down the mountain with the big buck in the back of the truck and an incredible story in our pocket. I called Ryan to tell him the story and let him know we would be driving past his town and would drop off his saddlebags. Ryan responded with, “By the way, the moose hunter who took the picture of the buck made those saddlebags for me!” I told him Jake’s Grandpa Dave & Uncle Kip lived in the same town to which Ryan exclaimed “You’re kidding! Kip is my neighbor!” One final act of providence.

Upon seeing the buck, Ryan was just as stunned as us that we were able to get him. We told the story in great detail, and Ryan hung on every word. He was clearly as excited about our success as we were. There was a lot of head shaking and back slapping. After we finished reliving the hunt, I asked Ryan – “Why did you stop and talk to me that first morning?” He responded, “I honestly don’t know! It just seemed like the thing to do. I had been hunting there for a week and you were the only hunter I talked to the entire time.”

I’ve never experienced anything like this hunt. There were endless reasons we shouldn’t have gotten this buck, yet at every obstacle, our steps seemed guided. This hunt forced me to again question my beliefs, and while I haven’t decided whether they’ve changed, I guarantee that I will continue to pick up every set of saddlebags I find.

Broken Bones & Barbwire

Growing up out west of Lehi we were surrounded by farms, fields and haystacks. The closest haystack was just across the fence in the pasture next to the Evans brothers houses. What city kids did with empty appliance boxes, we did with haystacks. No amount of cardboard boxes could compare to the forts and clubhouses that could be constructed from a haystack. It was a testament to our Dads’ goodwill that the haystack owner never skinned us alive for all the times he had to rebuild that stack.

One summer day I was tagging along with my sisters, Jill & Diane, and cousins Bart & Todd. I was 4 and a half years old, the tail end of the Evans kids, and I spent a lot of time trying to keep up with the big kids. We ended up playing on the haystack and the big kids decided it would be fun to jump off the 15’ high top. They broke a few bales and piled up the hay next to the stack as a landing pad. All the big kids took turns jumping off the top of the stack into the loose hay. They were having a great time and I enjoyed the show.

After a while the older kids tired of the game and decided that it would be much more entertaining to watch 4 year old Guy jump off the haystack. Thankfully they pitched the idea, rather than pitching me off the top. I don’t remember what they said, but it started making a lot of sense to me. I had watched them all jump and come out alive, so how dangerous could it be? I don’t know how long I stood there pondering the idea, but at some point the lure of fame began to outweigh any fear.

The big kids must have thought there was no way I could be dumb enough to jump off the top, because they stopped trying to talk me into it and went back to their own fun. Without a word, I walked to the far side of the top of the haystack, turned and took off running. I don’t remember why, but 4-year-old Guy’s brain thought it important to get up to full speed before jumping. I vaguely remember my sisters watching me as I started running and, as siblings will, do nothing to stop me.

What I do remember clearly is Bart, just as I passed him, realizing that I was going to jump. I have a clear image in my mind of Bart reaching for me as he dove, head-first, off the stack. Four-year-old Guy was a blazing streak of adrenaline-fueled speed though, and I flew far beyond Bart’s reach.

When I knew Bart wasn’t going to catch me I turned my attention to the landing. This was the life moment I when learned the importance of planning. During the 30 seconds I was airborne I also learned some calculus, which I used to predict the exact spot of bare ground, ten feet beyond the loose hay, upon which I would land.

I don’t really remember the actual landing, but I remember the shocking jolt of pain. I’m not too proud to say that I’m pretty sure I started crying before I stopped rolling. Bart got to me first, having survived his head-first dive into the pile of loose hay. The rest jumped off the top and were soon standing over me. Their familial love for me still moves me to this day – “You’re not hurt”, “Walk it off”, “Quit your crying” and other words of encouragement flowed from them.

After a couple minutes I came to my senses, realizing that kids from 7 – 10 years old had to know more than me. Clearly I wasn’t hurt, so I stopped whining and followed their directions. I bit my lip and stood up, all my weight on my right foot. With the fearless confidence of my family cheering me on, I walked it off. Well, that was the plan anyway. What actually happened during that first step, is that my left ankle buckled and I fell into the barbwire fence. Now, in addition to a broken leg, I was bleeding. Crying may have resumed – I don’t remember.

The next thing I remember is being hoisted over the fence and the kids taking turns carrying me back to my house. A lot of bargaining took place on that walk. Deals with me, deals with each other, even a couple deals with the Lord. By the time we got home, we didn’t know how my leg had gotten broken – we had just been playing down in the field and suddenly it just broke! I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty sure I ratted out all the kids the moment my Mom saw me. I’m not proud of that.

The way I remember it, the break was so bad they had to put me in a full body cast. I was totally helpless and required my sisters to carry me wherever I wanted to go and cater to my every need. Through some miracle my broken ankle recovered. Pretty sure it was divine intervention because no four year old had ever been through such a catastrophe. Don’t ask my sisters for confirmation of this story, they remember me being helpless, but they don’t remember the full body cast. Their memories seem to be slipping.

From Kindergarten until today, the wisdom to find the landing spot before committing to the leap has kept me out of barbwire and body casts… mostly.

Money and the Seven Rules

Money experts would have you believe that you need to hire a dozen experts to properly manage your money. I believe managing money comes down to seven simple rules. If you follow the rules that I’ve listed below, your life will be a rainbow adventure on your way to a pot of gold.

Spend Less Money Than You Earn

When it comes to money, this is the first rule for every age. Money really is this simple: you can’t keep it if you spend it. No matter how much you make, if you spend more, you will have no money. Spending more than you make is choosing a lifetime of being afraid of your phone, your door and your mail.

Make All The Money You Can

Pretty much everything in life gets easier when you make more money. The way I look at it is that I’m going to work 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, for life. If I have to work, I may as well get paid as much as possible. At the end of every workday we all head home, and life is easier if you earned $500 rather than $50.

To make more money, first be good at your job and then take on more responsibility. If your job doesn’t pay enough to provide you an independent lifestyle, change jobs within your company, or change companies, or change careers. Work all the hours your job allows. Get a second job. Get a third job…

Save All The Money You Can

I believe we have two financial goals in life: independence, and if you’re lucky, retirement. Independence takes a lot of money and retirement takes around 20 times your annual salary. You should be saving for both by the time you’re 18. You can reach financial independence within a few years. It will take 50 years to save enough for retirement, so start immediately. This rule is simple to say, yet it takes the most discipline by far.

Independence is only really achieved when you have enough money saved for unseen events such as, your car needs new tires, your refrigerator breaks, you lose your job, etc. You should have three months living expenses saved for that inevitable rainy day. Never touch it unless life rains on you.

If your company offers a 401k retirement plan, contribute. Most companies match some of your 401k contributions – that’s free money – contribute at least enough to get all they match. If you don’t have access to a 401k, save in an IRA. Early in your career, when your tax bracket is low, choose the Roth 401k or IRA option.

Only Borrow Money For Necessities

Recognizing the difference between a necessity and a luxury is where most people struggle with this rule. So I’m going to make it clear – necessities are only those things which keep you alive and enable you to make money. You need to be healthy and get to work, which means necessities are food, shelter, clothing and transportation. Only shelter and transportation are legitimate reasons to borrow money; both should be the least expensive and reliable options. Only borrow for transportation if it is necessary to get you to work; otherwise walk where you’re going – you’ve got time.

Insurance should be viewed as borrowing money, so only cover the things you can’t live without such as your health, house, and car. You are better off using your savings to replace cheaper stuff. When you have enough money to retire, you likely no longer need life insurance.

Pay Off Your Money Debt As Fast As You Can

If you’re following these 7 rules, the only debt you have is for a car and a house. If you have other debt, get it paid off, starting with your highest interest rate loan. When you pay off a loan, don’t go on a spending spree. Take the money you were spending on the prior loan, and add it to next highest rate loan payments. Keep doing that until you pay off your home loan.

Most importantly, if you don’t pay off your entire credit card bill each month, you are borrowing money for luxuries. Stop it.

NEVER Borrow Money For Luxuries

This rule is the one most people break. Breaking this rule is what keeps people broke. Here is the simple truth: toys, vacations and pets are all luxuries. Hobbies are luxuries. Starbucks, Netflix and Amazon are luxuries. Smart phones are luxuries. Unless it keeps you alive or enables you to make money, it is a luxury.

Never borrow money to “build credit”. That’s like saying you made $50 by buying a pair of shoes on sale for $50 off. Pay your utility bills and your debts on time, and your credit will be great.

I believe education is valuable and often the key to increasing your earnings. Having said that, student loans are a choice, and I believe you are better off avoiding student debt by working while you go to school. Even better, get a job at a company that will pay for your education. No degree guarantees a job. Hard work and talent can make up for lack of a degree.

Never Pay Penalties Or Fees For Money

This rule seems hard until you realize that penalties and fees are choices. First, you’ve got to follow rule #1 – if you spend more money than you have, you will be paying penalties. Buying a $5 cup of coffee when you don’t have $5 in your account results in a $15 penalty making it a $20 cup of coffee. Banks are thrilled every time you do that.

Fees happen when you choose bank accounts, credit cards, etc. that don’t fit your financial situation. Don’t pick a bank account that charges you a monthly fee unless you maintain a $5000 balance if you don’t have $5000 to park in the account! Pick credit cards with no annual fees – there are zillions of them. Use credit cards that provide money rewards – airline miles and similar rewards are the second biggest scam in the credit card world. If your bank or card hit you with a fee, find out why and make sure it never happens again. If necessary, change accounts to fit your situation. Also, don’t be afraid to ask to have fees or penalties waved the first time they happen.

The best way to manage your money and bills is to use direct deposit for your paychecks and set up autopay for all of your bills. That way you don’t risk forgetting to pay a bill and getting hammered with penalties.

Managing your money is simple if you follow the above rules. Don’t overthink it, don’t over-expert it, and don’t over-worry about it. Spend less money than you earn, and you will succeed.  Finally, don’t keep up with the Joneses. The Joneses have everything, including soul-crushing amounts of debt. Credit is financial heroin. Don’t be a debt junkie at your drug dealer’s (the bank) mercy.

My thanks go to my trusted advisors for their many suggestions and edits of this article. My thanks also go to my parents who raised me as a farmer so I had to learn to manage money to make it until the next harvest.

The SCD Diet Cures IBD

Since this is a health related article, I’m going to jump right to the point: I had Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) / Ulcerative Colitis (UC) for 3 years. I went on the Specific Carbohydrate Diet (SCD) for 10 months.

*** 2 years later update: While I expect I’ll have IBD for life it is completely manageable with the SCD diet. At this point I go in cycles of full SCD / full stupid. My symptoms return (never bad) and I go back on SCD & they go into full remission.

If you read no further, that’s what you need to know. If you have IBD, SCD will work for you.

I realize that is a bold claim which can’t be true every time. However, it’s true in my case and the case of thousands of others. I’ll start my story here – I have lived the last 20 years on one of the least healthy diets possible – straight sugar. That is important to note because up until 2015, I had never had any gut related issues. None. I have always exercised & been fit, which I believe offset my diet and kept me, apparently, healthy.

Now to the IBD story… September of 2015 I had my wisdom teeth removed. This was part of an oral surgery ordeal which is a whole other story. A standard practice for wisdom teeth removal is a 7-10 day course of prescription antibiotic. In my case, that antibiotic was Clindamycin. I had no idea what adventure this ridiculous drug was sending me on.

I started the course of Clindamycin on September 24^th, 2015. I don’t remember when it started, but after a couple weeks I had a steady case of diarrhea. I figured it was due to my eating habits changing due to the teeth extraction and didn’t give it much thought. A couple weeks later my mouth was back to normal, my eating was back to normal, and diarrhea was becoming my normal.

After a couple more weeks it was clear that the diarrhea wasn’t going away by itself. I think I first tried some Imodium AD which made the situation more manageable, but after a week or so it clearly wasn’t a cure. At that point I made the connection between the antibiotic and diarrhea. Googling diarrhea & antibiotic immediately leads you to Clindamycin. I soon surmised that I had Clostridium difficile (C diff). I was astounded to discover that Clindamycin has a 20% chance of causing C diff and pissed that my oral surgeon had prescribed it – without so much as a passing comment to watch for diarrhea. If you want to be disgusted by a common drug, google Clindamycin and read the FDA warnings all over the web. How is this garbage still available??

I discovered this information a couple days before leaving for Ireland on a work trip. I went to the local Urgent Care, who were fortunately well equipped and I provided a stool sample for testing. A few days later, my wife called me and confirmed that I did indeed have C diff. The cure… a course of the antibiotic Metronidazole. I was pretty skeptical, but took the drug when I returned home. After a week, the diarrhea was finally resolved. I figured that was the end of the adventure and put the experience behind me.

Fast forward to February 2018, when, after a colonoscopy, I received a diagnosis of chronic active colitis consistent with inflammatory bowel disease. Biopsies were taken and submitted for testing. The Pathology report returned:

1. 1. TRANSVERSE COLON (BIOPSY), R/O IDIOPATHIC INFLAMMATORY BOWEL DISEASE

CHRONIC ACTIVE COLITIS CONSISTENT WITH INFLAMMATORY BOWEL DISEASE.

Negative for granulomas and dysplasia.

1. 1. RECTUM (BIOPSY), R/O IDIOPATHIC INFLAMMATORY BOWEL DISEASE

CHRONIC ACTIVE PROCTITIS WITH ULCERATION.

There is slight crypt distortion associated with increased lymphocytes, plasma cells, and lymphoid aggregates within the lamina propria. The active cryptitis is not associated with crypt abscesses or granulomas. These changes may be seen with a slowly-resolving self-limited proctitis, but may also be seen in inflammatory bowel disease. Clinical correlation is recommended

I won’t claim to understand exactly what the report says, but the words Inflammatory Bowel Disease are clear. I met with my GI doc in March, where he reported: “Patient was found to have colonic ulcerations in the rectum, and 1 in the transverse colon as well consistent with inflammatory bowel disease.” He asked me whether I’d been experiencing symptoms of IBD. I reported that I’d had infrequent diarrhea and a couple times had noticed blood in my stool. I hadn’t worried about either because they had been isolated incidents.

His solution was a prescription for Mesalamine. I asked if I needed to change my diet, to which he replied “Don’t eat chicken”. Uh… What?? He clearly believed that the drug was the solution and my diet was inconsequential. I didn’t press the issue, figuring I would do my own research and assess diet impact on IBD. I stopped at the pharmacy on the way home to fill the prescription. I learned a valuable lesson that day – always ask how much a prescription costs before filling it the first time. I choked when I got the bill, $1164 for a 3 month supply. If you don’t know me, I’m frugal (some have claimed ‘cheap’, they’re wrong). Looking down the path I was on, $400 a month for drugs was NOT going to work for me unless it was life threatening (and even then it’d be a debate).

Another thing about me… I have difficulty swallowing anything big. Which is just a cruel thing for nature to do to me after giving me a mouth that will fit a tennis ball. The Mesalamine was the size of a Pekingese and cannot be broken since the coating has to stay intact to control the time release of the medication. I wasn’t surprised when the first pill lodged in my throat and stayed there for a couple hours. I’m not exaggerating, it was a couple hours before I got it down. This was clearly not a solution for me, and was the only time I tried swallowing one. So, if anyone needs some Mesalamine, I’ve got $1152 worth of the stuff sitting on the shelf.

I’m a great troubleshooter and figure that with YouTube & Google, I can fix anything. That theory was sorely tested when I started researching IBD. Wow, the amount of information on the internet regarding IBD is staggering. It’s also incredibly contradictory and confusing. The only thing that everyone seemed to agree about was the advice – if it bothers you, don’t eat it. Ya, I needed the internet to tell me that. For every food you can find 2 types of people, one who says that food sets off an IBD attack and one who says that food is the only thing they can safely eat. My trouble was that with the infrequent & random symptoms I’d experienced it was impossible to identify any specific food related issue. For me it seemed more related to the amount of food over an extended period. I could eat anything I wanted with no symptoms. If I ate too much of what I wanted, over a month, I’d experience a bit of diarrhea. Easily remedied by not eating like a pig.

I spent a couple months researching IBD related diets with no clear direction developing. Then came my lucky break, clicking around IBD sites led me to a book on Amazon called “Breaking The Vicious Cycle” by Elaine Gottschall. The book had thousands of positive reviews. Reading through the reviews it literally seemed too good to be true. Story after story of people at least controlling their symptoms, at best, curing their disease. I researched the book further and found glowing reviews everywhere I went. I ordered it from Amazon – used of course – and my $7.52 diet bible was on its way.

I quickly read through the book and while it has a lot of in-depth information that was hard for me to follow, the high level info resonated with me. Reading this conclusion from 20 worldwide studies on the eating patterns of patients with ulcerative colitis was like looking in a mirror.

The connection between Crohn’s disease and a sugar-rich diet is proved beyond reasonable doubt.

The book then presents a diet called the Specific Carbohydrate Diet (SCD) that “breaks the vicious cycle” that is going on inside many of us. That cycle occurs when we get bad bacteria in our gut, followed by foods that bad bacteria feed on. This leads to damage in our intestine, which leads to malnutrition from our body’s inability to absorb nutrients from food. The cycle spirals downward, more bad bacteria, more damage, and poorer health.

The Specific Carbohydrate Diet premise is simple – you starve bad bacteria from your gut by eliminating all but single sugar molecule foods. And, you add good bacteria by eating homemade yogurt with the right bacteria for your gut.

In November of 2018, I started the SCD plan. I’ll admit, the first month I thought life wasn’t worth living. In my first 50 years of life my vegetable consumption consisted entirely of potatoes. I’d eat a banana every couple years just to say I’d done it. I had never eaten a salad. Never. Following a diet that consists mostly of food I’d never eaten was hard for two reasons, first, I didn’t eat them because I didn’t like them (ok, I’d tasted & spit out a few vegetables) and second, I had no idea what to eat nor how to prepare it. Fortunately, my wife, Peggy, both loves vegetables and is a good cook. She probably saved my life (she probably also saved her own, because that first month I was a bit grumpy). As I recall, the first month I lost 15 pounds and wondered if it was possible to consume enough calories on SCD to sustain life.

The second month things started improving. I ate my first grape. Literally, the first grape I’d ever eaten. I ate a lot of other things for the first time, too. None of them were tasty, but after 30 days of starvation, taste becomes a lower priority and survival instincts kick in.

Once I discovered SCD legal peanut butter and honey, the calorie problem was solved. Orange juice not from concentrate, with no additives is also legal – and I love orange juice. I started adding weight and happily had to slow down my eating. There are tons of resources for recipes and foods online and about three months into the diet I knew I could survive and stay on it.

Health problems are highly motivating and I followed the diet almost 100%. It is hard to stay on it when traveling, which I was doing for my job. I lived on fruit the first couple trips then I found Trader Joes & started driving straight there from the airport. I’d load up with legal foods and traveling got easier.

In January of 2018 I had my semi-annual GI doctor visit. I have a liver thing & get my blood tested every six months. I was very pleased to see that my blood lab reports had all improved. Two months on the diet and I was seeing objective improvement in my body. That was exciting and motivating.

In August of 2018 I had my next GI doctor visit. I felt good, but I didn’t expect the results I got. For the first time in 10 years, ALL of my liver blood test results were in the normal range. My Direct & Indirect Bilirubin had never been in the normal range. I don’t know that SCD is helping with my liver thing, but that result is incredibly exciting – maybe that liver transplant will keep waiting!

The doc was pleased with the blood test reports, but he was annoyed when I told him that I had taken 1 Mesalamine pill, choked on it and never attempted another. And, that I was addressing my IBD with the SCD plan. He hadn’t heard of SCD, so I gave him the highlights. Not surprisingly, he was skeptical and wanted me to take the Mesalamine. If necessary, he wanted me to take another drug to improve my ability to swallow. Uh, no thanks.

We compromised by me agreeing to get a Calprotectin Fecal test which would show the level of inflammation in my intestines. If the test showed any inflammation, I would have to figure out how to get those horse pills in me. I was nervous, but optimistic. A couple weeks after I’d submitted a sample, I got the call from the GI doctor’s office. The young lady simply said, “The results of your Calprotectin Fecal test are normal. Call the office if you have any questions”.

The actual test results were:

September 2019 Calprotectin, Fecal test

Result: <16

<16 – 50 ug/g = Normal

Follow-Up = None

I was below the Normal range. Unbelievable.

Here is a summary of what I believe happened.

I lived 50+ years with relative good health

I took Clindamycin which killed all, good & bad, bacteria in my gut.

I ate my normal diet of sugar – which fed the bad bacteria in my gut

After 2-3 years of this, I developed IBD / UC

I spent 9 months on the SCD plan

I’m now IBD free

I’m writing this article to share my experience in hopes that others with any version of IBD / UC will use SCD to restore their gut health. I won’t know for sure that it’s repaired the damage in my intestines until I have my next colonoscopy. However, I didn’t want to wait 3 years for confirmation before writing this article. From my experience, this is an incredible health restoration plan that practically no one knows about. So I’m doing my part to get the word out.

I will add, I have a good friend who has had IBD for 30+ years. He has been on SCD for about 3 months. He told me that he has never felt better and for the first time feels like he can control his health.

I am comfortable writing about emotionally vulnerable topics, but writing about my health vulnerabilities is very hard. I still think I’m invincible and it’s hard telling the world otherwise. That’s how important I think my story is.

Post Script: (I’ve had a few questions about whether I’m still on SCD)

After about 9 months of being as strict as possible on SCD I eased into eating some illegal foods to see how they would affect me. I was to be leaving on a 7 day cruise and wanted to know whether I needed to pack my own food. The test went well, with no noticable IBD symptoms. I went on the cruise and ate my pre-SCD diet – which means lots meat & sugar. Including ice cream multiple times each day. I never had an IBD issue on the cruise.

When I got home, I went back on SCD for a month or so, then the holidays hit & I’ve eaten normally since Thanksgiving. So, I’ve been completely off SCD for the last 60 days. No IBD related symptoms.

I can’t be 100% certain that I’m cured & will never need to eat SCD again, but it feels like I am. It’s very comforting to know that should I have problems in the future that SCD will work.

That’s the good news. The bad news is that I’m packing on the pounds like crazy so I’ve got to figure out a diet that will work for me long term. The one thing I do intend to continue is to make & eat SCD legal yogurt – I think the health benefits are worth the effort of making the yogurt.

Never Trust A Cat

Me around 2 years old, holding my brother Dale’s State Champion Steer. That’s the kind of pets I grew up with

I think it’s true, you have to be taught to hate. Or in this case, intensely dislike.

I haven’t always disliked cats. Up until I was 12ish, I liked cats fine. Living on a farm we had plenty of cats around. Mostly wild ones that would run for the hills as soon as the door was opened, but a few were somewhat tame. We even made pets of a couple over the years, and that’s where my troubles with cats started.

My earliest cat memory is of a Siamese cat my sister Diane had managed to tame. I don’t remember our ages, but I have a hint. The cat’s name was Flower and when Diane made a box for the cat to sleep in, I took it upon myself to write the cat’s name on the box. When I called Diane and my Mom out to see my handiwork, they burst into laughter. When they finally stopped chuckling, my Mom explained that the cat’s name was not spelled “Flour”. How would I know that?! At that age, growing up in Lehi, UT the only way I’d seen the word spelled was at the Lehi RollerMills. “Use Turkey Red Flour” and “Peacock Flour Stands For Quality”. I could read and write a bit, but not correctly, so I figure I was 4ish when we got that cat.

It pains me to admit this, but I’m pretty sure I loved that cat. Growing up on a farm, we were surrounded by animals. Those animals came and went regularly. Other than horses, we rarely made pets of them because farms are rough places for animals. Farm animals were destined to be sold or put in our own freezer. While cats and dogs didn’t share that fate, farms were filled with lots of life shortening hazards for small animals. Flower was the first pet I remember and I was pretty excited to have a pet, even if only vicariously.

Flower was a good cat, she’d walk around your legs, she’d catch mice and share them with you, and she’d lick your face. All the things a 4 year old wants in a cat. I was very smitten with her until the day when she showed her true Siamese cat colors. One summer day, I was sitting on a little stool in the back yard, I imagine being bored. Flower wandered around the corner and slowly walked up to me. She weaved around and between my legs a couple times and then jumped into my lap. She was staring up into my face, in what I thought, was an “I love my little master” way. Without any warning she jumped up and bit my chin. Not a nip. A full on lion taking down a gazelle clamp. She was latched on and wasn’t about to let go. I immediately jumped to my feet and started screaming and pulling on that damn cat. She had me and was going to choke me out and then I presume, eat me. I started twirling around in circles, screaming like a trapped jackrabbit and tugging at that cat with all my might. Maybe it was the shrieking that stunned her, maybe she got dizzy from being twirled around like a carnival ride, maybe she decided her full food bowl was an easier meal. Whatever it was, she finally unlatched her jaws and let me go. I was mid-twirl when she let go and she flew one way, I flew the other. I didn’t wait to see what she was doing, I presumed she was on my heels as I ran for dear life. I don’t know since I was too terrified to look back. I ran for the house and never let that damn cat near me again.

After a few years the shock of the Siamese cat attack wore off and I decided I’d try a pet cat. A pure white stray came by one day & I claimed it. I named it Sugar, which I knew how to spell. Sugar was an ok pet. I don’t remember thinking much about that cat. My life was busier and my world was bigger at 10 than it had been at 4. Overall though, I was happy with my pet cat, Sugar.

When I was about 12 I came into a bunch of pigeons. I talked my Dad into letting me use one of our old sheds as a pigeon coop. By “talked into”, I mean I converted the old shed and hoped that when Dad noticed he would let me keep it. It turned out fine. I got the pigeons home & settled into the coop. After a few weeks, I started training them so that they could be turned loose and then return to the coop. This required a little trap door, which I built out of hangers. The birds took to training very well and within a month I was able to take birds anywhere, release them and they’d be back in the coop in a few hours.

Exciting times for young boy. Then one day after school I walked down to the coop to let the birds out. When I opened the door, I saw Sugar’s tail bolting out of the trap door. On the floor of the coop was all but 3 of my pigeons. The screaming that ensued was very similar to when the Siamese attacked me. Maybe I shouldn’t set my opinion of cats by such a small percentage sampling, but 100% of the pet cats I had were demons. I’ve never trusted a cat or a demon since.

Written to: Loggins & Messina – Mother Lode

No One Way

Life constantly reminds me that I’m wrong. Wrong, all the time. I think I have life all figured out when I observe someone doing things completely different than I would. Life smacks me the side of the head and says “There’s never only one way to do this”. Fortunately, my way usually works as well, which saves me from having to admit I was wrong.

When Peggy and I were dating, we knew we had a great relationship for the times we were together. However, both of us being in our 40’s, we knew that we were pretty set in our ways and wondered whether those ways would conflict if we lived together. It was one of the big reasons we didn’t jump right into marriage. That and after two divorces, I was pretty convinced marriage wasn’t my thing.

We weren’t in a hurry, so we kept our situation the same and watched how our worlds aligned. We saw minor things, but never anything that looked like it would be a disaster if we lived together. Being a planner, I never count my chickens before they hatch. Even though I didn’t see any major issues with our relationship, I knew the possibility for disaster could exist and we wouldn’t be able to see it until we literally took that step and lived together.

Eventually, we’d seen what we were going to see before taking the final step of living together. I’m pretty sure Peggy was equally nervous about living together. Seriously, one thing I’m not, is dull. Living with me is like living with a wild animal. When they’re fed and happy, wild animals make great pets – they’re unique and very interesting. When they’re not fed & happy, having a wild animal in the house is a race for your life. Peggy had known me a long time & seen the animal enough to know that living with me might be tough. So, we kept the decision at bay.

After a few years of this, it was clear that we wanted to make a life together. That reality brought out the problem solver in me. I finally realized that I was trying to fit our world into the expectations I’d always had for a marriage. Then it occurred to me that there wasn’t only one way to be in a committed relationship. If we loved each other and wanted to be together, but couldn’t live together… then we’d be together and live separately. I was actually pretty nervous to say those words to Peggy. It was possible that what she’d hear was me trying to get out of living with her. Fortunately, Peggy is open minded and trusts me. When I told her what I was thinking, it was like a load lifted off her shoulders. It was exactly the right thing to say and exactly the right mentality to take into our future life together. Bottom line, we’d find a way to make it work.

Our wedding turned out to be filled with opportunities to find ways to “make things work”. When I told Peggy that I wanted to get married on top of a mountain in the Wyoming wilderness, her only concern was how we’d get her bouquet there in one piece. “No problem”, I said – “I’ll pick you a bouquet of wildflowers on the mountain”. She happily agreed. I had no idea how many romantic points I’d get for that small gesture.

Turns out all the wondering about being able to live together was completely unnecessary. I’ve learned to stop turning off every light as I leave a room and Peggy has never had any difficulty feeding, caring for and keeping the wild animal caged. We’ve had our trials, but knowing that we can and will figure out a creative solution that suits us has always given us comfort and confidence in our relationship.

Back to life reminding me I’m wrong. I’ve got a lot of opinions about how life works and how people behave. That’s where life keeps teaching me new lessons. I don’t think I’ve ever developed a theory about life that hasn’t been proven wrong at some point. A typical example, I believe couples should manage their money together. Then I met someone who manages their money separately and it’s exactly the right thing for their situation. They’ve got a system that works well for them and they are meeting their financial goals – separately, yet together. What I take from this life lesson is that there are infinite ways to do anything, if yours works, great.

There is no “one” way to do anything. Whatever your situation, be creative, be purposeful, find a solution that works for you. Be willing and able to adapt. Whatever is working for you at 25 likely won’t at 35. Pay attention to your world and when necessary, change it. Don’t fall into the trap of trying to fit life into your expectations. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life won’t go how you expect. Life will laugh at your “one” way of doing things and happily abuse you for having those expectations.

In life, expect an adventure, not a fairy tale.

Written listening to: Led Zeppelin II

The Day My Jeep Got Stolen

It’s 8:15am, I’m standing in my driveway watching the garage door go up. It slowly rises revealing no tires, no bumper, no spare tire, no top. No. Jeep.

I’d like to say that in that moment of potential crisis that I handled myself with grace, but outside appearances can be very deceiving. My heartrate fired up – a solid beat that you could really dance to.

Maybe my wife, Peggy, had taken my Jeep? She had never driven it, hadn’t said she was taking it, but MAYBE?! I walked back through the garage. Nope. Her car was gone. Ok, now think – where else would my Jeep be if not in one of my garages? I walked back out to the empty garage. I went so far as to go in the garage & look around – you know, in case I had parked it crooked & somehow it was hidden behind a toolbox or a bucket. Ya, no Jeep in any of the garage corners.

I’m a troubleshooter, so I ran through all the possibilities to explain the missing Jeep. As I ran through the options I walked back in the house. That walk felt like an admission that my Jeep really had been stolen. My heartrate picked up more speed – think castanets the size of garbage can lids.

I checked the security camera recordings. There’s my Jeep in the garage two days ago. No clear indications when the Jeep disappeared. Hmm, now what? I’m late for work & there’s nothing I can do about the Jeep, so I grab my bag & head toward the garage. I open the drawer where I keep my keys and reach in and grab the first set I find. Uh, those are my Jeep keys. I’d assumed I’d left those keys in the Jeep – since I was raised in Lehi in the 70s when you didn’t lock doors or cars. I stood there pondering how the thief had made off with the Jeep without the keys. Slowly, and I’m talking slow like a teenager cleaning their room, the tumblers in my brain fell into place… Jeep, not stolen. Jeep parked at MacDonald’s!

Two days earlier, I took my daughter, Jenny, to pick up her new car. We met my wife at McD’s to ride up together to get the car. On the drive home we were clearly having a conversation so engrossing that I completely forgot to pick up the Jeep. That or my brain was entirely committed to navigating the traffic at Thanksgiving Point. Either way, I was pretty sure I’d solved the missing Jeep mystery. Thank goodness I hadn’t called the cops yet.

I grabbed my stuff & headed out the door, toward MacDonald’s. I jumped in my truck (particularly grateful to have an extra vehicle at that moment) and sped away. I spent the 10 minute drive imagining what I was going to find at MacDonald’s. My Jeep on blocks, tires missing? Doors, top and seats missing? A burned out pile of smoldering metal?!? I figured the most likely thing I’d find – was no Jeep. Whether stolen or towed. I couldn’t imagine the Jeep sitting in that parking lot for 2 days without getting noticed.

Pulling into the parking lot – there was the top of my Jeep! At least some of it’s still there! As I got closer, I saw more & more of the Jeep, all in one piece. Unmolested. What a relief…Unbelievable. Talk about lucky.

Whenever something like this happens – thank goodness it doesn’t happen often – I take it as a reminder that I need to take a deep breath and slow down. I won’t bore you with a list of all the irons I had in the fire at the time, but suffice it to say there was at least one too many.

The Jeep is safely home. Jenny has a new car & her old car has been sold. I’ve managed to get a couple big projects off my plate so my ToDo list is reasonably manageable. I’m sure Christmas will bring a good chance for getting overwhelmed again. If you see my Jeep parked somewhere longer than it should be, please let me know.