Today I was thinking about the last time I visited my Aunt Laura. She lives in southeastern Utah, practically on the Colorado border.

This is her trading post:





It is a little oasis in the desert. They have never had phone service, not even cell phones, and their electricity comes from a generator.

Every time I went there, Aunt Laura would hustle me into the pickup and drive me around to see Anasazi ruins and pretty scenery in the immediate area.

I send Christmas cards to her, but she never responds. She has always been cranky and defensive because her parents didn't approve that she married Sherman the Mormon, even though he gave up his faith and claimed to really dislike the Mormons. I think she's one of those people who always have something to be angry about, so if it's not one thing, it's another.