Kathie purchased a bright lime green leather purse this spring. She has received lots of positive comments from family, friends and even strangers. It really is attractive and she has matched it with ensembles which show the purse off with great effect. During a recent trip to visit Shelly and Rich, in Minnesota, Logan 9, who views the world from within a slightly different paradigm, dubbed the purse..."grandma's ELECTRIC LIME purse". That was so perceptive...so creative. It stuck.
Like many men I have a genuine phobia about carrying women's purses. Kathie says I'm insecure about my masculinity. It must be so, because it almost makes my skin crawl to be caught holding Kathie's purse...anytime...anywhere. I feel like an idiot...look like an idiot. Kathie, on the other hand, absolutely delights in putting me in such situations.
For example...last Sunday...we were at Church...walking out of Sacrament Meeting...headed to the priesthood room where I was to teach a Family History class. Kathie said..."Please hold my purse". Apparently the horrified look on my face gave me away, because she said..."Look...it is only 30 feet to the classroom door...I have to go...I'll be back in a minute...just take it to the classroom for me...please...you can do it."
So the old male brain quickly surveyed the situation and the terrain...it was the ELECTRIC LIME purse...we were the first out of the Chapel...the coast was clear...it looked safe enough...and it was only 30 feet. So I clutched the purse fearlessly to my chest...and obediently moved forward.
I actually made it to the classroom undetected and was just putting the purse on a chair in the front of the room when I heard a sweet feminine voice say "Nice purse Tony". I was busted...and speechless. I looked up just in time to see Joann Karren's smiling face pass the door frame.
I tell you...its a female conspiracy.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
Tristan Corrigan
You know that I don’t believe in coincidences…I believe in God…I believe that He is in-charge of our affairs…at least, whenever He chooses to be in-charge. And the older I get, the more obvious His hand becomes. It is almost humorous.
So here’s the set-up. It is Monday May 31, 2009. Kathie and I are sitting in the Minneapolis Airport, after a visit with Shelly and her family…on our way to Pittsburgh, to visit with Jeff and Kimi. There is a handsome young man sitting next to me. Kathie leans over and says “I think he might be a Marine…he has his Lid (dress hat) with him”. So I strike up a conversation. The young man is not a Marine, but he is Navy…Naval ROTC to be exact…on his way to Germany for a 25 day exchange with the German navy. He is easy to talk with…so we chat. I tell him about our Marine sons…about Dan’s float in the Mediterranean. He had a similar experience as a crewman on a troopship. I tell him about Henry Sipple and his WWII service…his historical timeline which I recently typed up…problems with WWII torpedoes, etc. He asks if he might receive a copy of Henry’s timeline so I ask for his email address.
His name is Tristan Corrigan…now there’s a good old Irish name if ever there was one. He is attending Iowa State University on an ROTC scholarship. tristanc@iastate.edu
This is where Kathie and her incredible intuition come into play. She says…”you would not be from California would you?: Answer “No…I’m from Minnesota” So Kathie explains how she had just published her mother’s diaries from her Park City teen years…how she was enamored with a young man named Francis Corrigan who lived in California. Tristan looks at Kathie and says…”Francis Corrigan was my grandfather…he lived in California”.
This deserved a …YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME…right?
Well…it turned out to be true. Tristan’s father is Michael Francis Corrigan, the son of Francis Corrigan, of California. Francis suffered from heart problems and died a couple of years ago. It all fits. But what are the odds? That’s so weird. And if the Lord is actually pulling these strings…why? Surely it is not just to show us that he can.
Francis was unfortunately divorced from Tristan’s grandmother…and Francis was estranged from the family…Tristan never met him. But he is sure that his parents will want to exchange information and photos with Kathie, so we are going to email documents to Tristan who will send them on to his parents.
I can hardly wait to find out what will happen on our next trip.
So here’s the set-up. It is Monday May 31, 2009. Kathie and I are sitting in the Minneapolis Airport, after a visit with Shelly and her family…on our way to Pittsburgh, to visit with Jeff and Kimi. There is a handsome young man sitting next to me. Kathie leans over and says “I think he might be a Marine…he has his Lid (dress hat) with him”. So I strike up a conversation. The young man is not a Marine, but he is Navy…Naval ROTC to be exact…on his way to Germany for a 25 day exchange with the German navy. He is easy to talk with…so we chat. I tell him about our Marine sons…about Dan’s float in the Mediterranean. He had a similar experience as a crewman on a troopship. I tell him about Henry Sipple and his WWII service…his historical timeline which I recently typed up…problems with WWII torpedoes, etc. He asks if he might receive a copy of Henry’s timeline so I ask for his email address.
His name is Tristan Corrigan…now there’s a good old Irish name if ever there was one. He is attending Iowa State University on an ROTC scholarship. tristanc@iastate.edu
This is where Kathie and her incredible intuition come into play. She says…”you would not be from California would you?: Answer “No…I’m from Minnesota” So Kathie explains how she had just published her mother’s diaries from her Park City teen years…how she was enamored with a young man named Francis Corrigan who lived in California. Tristan looks at Kathie and says…”Francis Corrigan was my grandfather…he lived in California”.
This deserved a …YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME…right?
Well…it turned out to be true. Tristan’s father is Michael Francis Corrigan, the son of Francis Corrigan, of California. Francis suffered from heart problems and died a couple of years ago. It all fits. But what are the odds? That’s so weird. And if the Lord is actually pulling these strings…why? Surely it is not just to show us that he can.
Francis was unfortunately divorced from Tristan’s grandmother…and Francis was estranged from the family…Tristan never met him. But he is sure that his parents will want to exchange information and photos with Kathie, so we are going to email documents to Tristan who will send them on to his parents.
I can hardly wait to find out what will happen on our next trip.
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