A glorious August afternoon in Eastern Oregon

The Wallowa mountains

An ancient, but still working barn

Mary Kay meets Dukes of Hazzard

The forecast is for a smokin' hot afternoon.
Whatcha gonna do?

Go up in elevation and pick huckleberries, that's what.
After a morning of worship and a picnic lunch,
our friends Matt and Carol (with their newbie son Isaac)
shared their secret spot with a few friends. 

Generous folks. 
Anyone who brings a huckleberry pie to a potluck
is generous beyond the beyonds.

      

Huckleberries are very small and don't grow in clusters.
It took Curt and I all afternoon to pick one gallon.

Tip of the day: Huckleberries have so much flavor,
you can mix them with blueberries in recipes to stretch them.

Caught red-handed!

Good hymns are an immense blessing to the Church of Christ.  I believe the last day alone will show the world the real amount of good they have done.  They suit all, both rich and poor.  There is an elevating, stirring, soothing, spiritualizing effect about a thoroughly good hymn, which nothing else can produce.  It sticks in men's memories when texts are forgotten. 

It trains men for heaven, where praise is one of the principal occupations.  Preaching and praying shall one day cease forever; but praise shall never die.  The makers of good ballads are said to sway national opinion.  The writers of good hymns, in like manner, are those who leave the deepest marks on the face of the Church.

  

An interesting discussion over at Nancy's blog. 

Thoughts?

Okay, I should put my oar in the water before I ask you what you think.

Personally, I think tattoos are a turn-off.
My struggle is not to be judgmental when I see one.
And I have more than one friend with a tattoo.
But an internal transaction always has to happen.
That is just my preference, not any doctrine.

If a friend told me she was contemplating a tattoo,
and we were good friends,
I would try to talk her out of it.

I'm still working through what arguments I would use.