Larry Calder McDonald plays the bagpipes and preached the Gospel in Edinburgh. He wears plaid shirts and cooks haggis. Larry's grandfather, Rebeau Calder, was a brother of my grandfather, Hyrum Calder. Larry met my cousin, Sally Joyce, as they worked together in the Oquirrh Temple, and the two of them planned a meeting of our clans.
On January 21, the two branches of Calder cousins met at Larry's house in West Valley for dinner.
Larry served us haggis, cooked in a baking bag rather than a sheep stomach, but otherwise "totally authentic, down to the mix of different sheep meats".
He served us Scottish short bread.
After dinner, we gathered in Larry's living room and told stories about Vernal and Calder's Park. Calder's Park was founded in the 1860s by our common great-grandfather, George Calder, and was the first amusement park west of the Mississippi.
My cousin, Kreg Calder, wore a kilt, just as he did to the 100th birthday party I threw for Grandpa Calder (in absentia) in August 2009.
Rebeau's grandson, Doug, is in the Salt Lake Temple presidency. Doug and his wife love my father because "he was so good to Zula" (now I need to find out who Zula was). When Doug and his wife saw their first baby, they exclaimed, "She looks just like Grant!" because the baby had such a round face.
I learned many new tales about Grandpa Calder for my biography of him, including the time his father dangled him down a well as discipline for bad behavior, and the baby lambs that were brought inside his Grandma Mary Calder's house, after she moved to Vernal in 1905, to stay warm by the pot-bellied stove. Larry told us how, as a missionary in Scotland, he claimed to be "all Scottish." When he told members he was a Campbell on his mom's side and a McDonald on his dad's, they objected, "Naaah, that makes you a half-breed." Campbells and McDonalds were pertpetually warring clans. Spendlove kids, with Calder/Campbell blood on my side and McDonald blood on your dad's, you are also "half-breeds." Larry welcomed us with a bagpipe solo and serenaded us good night by playing "Amazing Grace". We agreed to get back together for a summer picnic.
On Saturday afternoon, I watched "Black Swan," a searing tale of the pressures on a young ballerina chosen to star in "Swan Lake." "Black Swan" was also nominated for Best Picture.
And on Saturday night, Michael gave us tickets to a Sundance Film Festival presentation of "Letters from the Big Man." We loved the film festival ambience in snowy Park City, with its crowds, lighted skiing on the mountain, and festive banners and logos.
We weren't so excited about the film itself. It was the story of a woman who goes hiking in the Klamath forest in Oregon and encounters a race of hairy Sasquatches. The Sasquatches represent, David and I surmised, the magic of the wilderness. Of course, the loggers are out to destroy the Sasquatch habitat and the CIA are out to capture the furry beasts themselves. We noted, when the Sundance Film Festival award winners were announced today, that "Letters from the Big Man" was not among them.
Sunday was a quiet day, filled with Church, good food, relaxation, and touching base with the family. There were lingering phone calls to Lisa, Camille, and Jonny, and a dinner of chicken piccata and fresh pineapple upside down cake with Michael.
I had the fun of using many special cooking tools, including my tear-preventing onion goggles.
After dinner, I enjoyed the spring flowers arrayed around our living room, which belied the frosty weather outside. We have primroses and sweet-smelling hyacinths.
Dave watched a JAZZ game and Michael wrote in his journal.
