Lucky

Jack received one of his summer projects in the mail today: a math workbook. Isn't he lucky?

We made some feeble attempts early on in elementary school to give Jack "homework" over the summer to keep his brain juices flowing, but none of us were disciplined enough to follow through in any meaningful way. Now the stakes are higher with junior high looming in the near future. Discipline is paramount.

So exactly how lucky is Jack? Once he finishes chapter 4, "Finding Percents," I'll have him calculate the answer.

Part Two: The Ideal

Though our gang of house guests was getting organized to head off to their geology field camp this morning, we did have time to take one of them, Henok, up the canyon to see freshly fallen snow. He is from Ethiopia, is studying at a university in Florida, and he had never seen snow except on mountain peaks. What a happy new adventure! He even built his first snow man!

We met Henok barely 24 hours ago, and it's unlikely our paths will cross again in person. But now we have this wonderful shared experience, we've peeked into each others' lives, and we have gained a larger understanding of a world which isn't really so large.

I wish the same for everyone. Can you imagine the power in that "to nibble away at whatever anger there is in the world"?

Part One: The Real

I am full of gratitude for all of the people who face the harsh and unbearable realities of war for the sake of others. I am also full of yearning for a world in which their sacrifice is unnecessary.

Twice this Memorial Day weekend I found myself tagging along with Roger and Jack to target practice. Both times we drove to the mountains--once to the east and once to the west--and found spots where they could shoot and I could enjoy a beautiful view while I read a book. Both times I brought the copy of Emma Lou Thayne's memoir I bought last weekend.

Both times, with the sound of gun shots and bullets hitting the hillside in the background, I happened to be reading sections of the book in which she wrote about her work for world peace--standing against nuclear proliferation in the face of swelling fear during the cold war at great risk to her reputation in a conservative community, traveling to the Soviet Union as a poet emissary, gaining insight from a friend who had recently returned from a tour of duty in Iraq to meet his five-month-old son for the first time.

"I must find ways still to nibble away at whatever anger there is in the world," she wrote, now well into her eighties, beautifully articulating something I have also felt driven to do.

Is it ironic, then, that I'm glad Jack is learning how to handle a gun safely and well?

One morning when he was two, engrossed in his breakfast and an episode of Sesame Street, I was engrossed in the unfolding coverage of 9/11. Every once in a while I'd glance at him, wishing with all of my heart that he could stay in that innocent moment. But the reality is that Jack has never been conscious of a time his country has not been at war.

Through the years, I have watched him battle friends with light sabers and nerf dart guns. I have gradually let him into the world of strategic video games. I have read books to him like Ender's Game, The City of Ember, and The Hunger Game trilogy, using them as springboards to talk about things like power and fear and morality in conflict.

And through the years, I've had the niggling thought in the back of my mind that Jack needs these things, the play and the fiction. If I shelter him too much--the big-hearted boy who organized a Save the Penguins campaign at school and who made me stop reading Roald Dahl's Danny Champion of the World because it glorified poaching--I risk sending him out unprepared.

Yesterday, Jack told me about his friend's older brother registering for the selective service. He is aware. The real world is becoming more real.

House Guests

Dad left yesterday, and cousin Sarah and her daughter Sofia arrived today from Florida! They're towing along with them a trailer full of scientific gear and three geology grad students and instructors (one from Pittsburgh, one from France, and one from Ethiopia). They will be heading to the San Rafael Swell to do some field research for the next couple of weeks.

We love being base camp for Sarah's research trips.

Running Away, Running Toward, Just Running

Last month I spoke at my brother's memorial service. For some reason I don't understand, I keep having a nagging feeling about something I wish I had said then. So as we head into Memorial Day weekend, I will put it out into the universe by saying it here.

About five years before he died, my brother Robbie ran away to Africa. At least it seemed to me like he was running away. His life had become overwhelming, and he didn't want to--or maybe couldn't--face it anymore. Over these last five years, though, I've come to believe that some part of him was instinctively running toward something. Something that would be a balm to his troubled soul.

Robbie would call or email me from Nairobi from time to time, usually with frantic requests to help him settle some unresolved issue from his past. But every once in a while, he'd send a simple message to tell me about some happy experience he had. Almost always those experiences were connected to a Kenyan family into which he had been welcomed warmly. Sometimes he sent pictures, usually of children in the family, but never of himself.

I didn't see Robbie's face for five years.

When my dad flew to Nairobi in January to see Robbie in the hospital, talk with his doctors, and begin to make arrangements to fly him home to Boston, he was able to meet Robbie's adopted Kenyan family. They gave him three photographs of Robbie taken before he got sick. In each of the photos, Robbie has a broad smile, which I believe is evidence that he found what he was running toward.

Today I ran the 5k that I signed up for shortly after returning home from my brother's service, wanting, somehow, to take more conscientious charge of my life and face challenges I often don't want to face.

Here I am smiling before the run.

And after.

In between? Just a lot of running. But run I did!

Intrepid

Here we are, the fearless hikers setting out on the 5-mile round trip Three Forks trail to the hot springs in Diamond Fork Canyon this morning. (Clockwise from left: Gramps, me, Jack, Jack's friend Cooper.)

The river we followed was extra high and fast.

Here's our picnic spot at the top of the trail. The waterfall in the background is usually just a trickle, and bathers enjoy the upper hot springs behind us. But with all the spring run off, the pools were cold and wild.

The lower pools were more protected. Jack was the only one of us who braved the water.

And then the girls in bikinis showed up. (Photo not available.)

The Last Last Day

Today was Jack's very last day of elementary school, and this is a picture of the very last time he will come home on a school bus. He'll be a walker in junior high and high school.

I have such mixed feelings about Jack moving on. I'm excited for him, but then I unexpectedly teared up as the sixth graders sang together for the last time in the end of year celebration in the school gym this morning. And I've been a bit emotional ever since.

I'm looking forward to knowing seventh-grade Jack, but I'm already missing sixth-grade Jack. He was pretty darn cool.

Off

The weather report finally looked good enough to risk it. We usually have the roof off the Jeep much earlier in the spring, even though it means Roger has a chilly drive to work in the mornings. So much rain, rain, rain!

About 8:00 this evening, Roger made up an excuse for us to take a drive. We went to his parents' house to pick up a handful of his old record albums they came across today. The drive was exhilarating, and it is, of course, such a relief to have in our possession his high school memories of Boston, Kansas and Chuck Mangione on vinyl.

A Shot in the Arm

Literally. And actually three of them.

Up until now, I have never taken Jack to get immunized. Sweet Roger saved me the angst all these years. This afternoon, I decided to step up and take Jack for the shots he needs now that he is 12 and heading to junior high.

Roger always took him to the Utah County Health Department for his shots. When Jack was born, we had to meet a high deductible before our insurance company would cover any of the cost. Our pediatrician told us that the shots would be a lot less expensive if we got them at the health department. Plus we'd have the added benefit of getting the shots from someone who gives shots all day, every day. An expert.

We went back to the expert today. Jack didn't even flinch!

A Hike on the Wild Side

Today Dad and I volunteered to help Jack's class with a field trip. The school bus had far less leg room than I remember, but the ride was fun!

The original plan was hike to the Y on the side of the mountain (see straight above the "Do not enter" sign), but the weather was very unpredictable.

Plan B ended up involving far more wildlife than we would have seen on the hike. First we went to the BYU Paleontology museum (watch out, lady!).

Then we went to the BYU Monte L. Bean Life Science museum. I was going to pretend we ran into this bear while we were hiking to the Y, but since there is a reflection of a museum exhibit sign on the glass in front of him, I figured I couldn't pull it off.

Cancelled hike notwithstanding, we had a good adventure!

My Men

Today we had a very special birthday celebration for the four most important men in my life: my husband, my son, my father and my father-in-law.

All four of them were born in May, and all four of them were in our home enjoying birthday cake and ice cream together!

The reason we were all together today was to be with Jack for a very important rite of passage.

At 12, LDS boys begin serving others as deacons in the priesthood. Jack's new responsibilities as a deacon will include passing the sacrament on Sundays and collecting fast offerings once a month to help people in need.

It is a wonder to watch him being swept up in the spirit of brotherhood. Today so many good men who love Jack circled around him and laid their hands on his head while Roger ordained and blessed him.

Today was a very special day to be a wife, a mother, a daughter and a daughter-in-law.

The End Didn't Come Today, But Life Is Still Short

I met one of my writing heroes today.

Poet and essayist Emma Lou Thayne spoke for about an hour this afternoon in Salt Lake City at the King's English, one of my favorite independent bookstores.

As she shared some of her fascinating life experiences, she mentioned a saying from Thailand that she quoted in her recent memoir, The Place of Knowing: A Spiritual Autobiography.

"Life is so short we must live very slowly."

Her interpretation of living life slowly is to pay attention, and for her, writing provides a powerful way to pay attention.

At 86, she is in a place of knowing. At 47, I believe I am starting to learn how to get there.

Delivery

I crashed the Boy Scout Spring Camporee to deliver pizza to the boys. Too hard to resist when they are only a few miles up the canyon.

Now I'm back home getting the guest room ready for my dad. He's flying in tonight to spend an exciting week with us!

The Second Test

Technically, this happened yesterday, but writing about Jack was my priority.

I headed here for my very first drug screen:

I imagine I don't need to describe what they needed from me. They should have the results in 24-48 hours, and then I should get a call with my start date.

The nice part was chatting with the woman who took care of me. I had to provide my social security number, and she perked up when she saw that it begins with a zero. Here in the west that's pretty rare. It turned out that she also had a social security number that begins with a zero. I was born in Massachusetts; she was born in New Hampshire. We had fun swapping our stories about how we ended up here in Utah.

A Portrait of the [Boy] as a Young Man

Now that he is 12, Jack will be attending the Young Men/ Young Women group at church. I'm excited for him to spend time with the older kids. Many great examples for him.

Jack's first night happened to coincide with a scout court of honor. He received his Second Class rank.

Roger is one of the leaders of Jack's age group. It looks like Jack will be setting a mature example for him to follow.

It's so fun to watch Jack grow up and have new opportunities, but it's a bit of a kick in the gut to realize that he's now 2/3 of his way to being an adult.

What Have I Begun?

A double birthday celebration for Roger and Jack called for scrumptious individual cupcakes from The Cocoa Bean Cupcake Cafe in Provo.

My first gourmet cupcake. I may need to be talked down.

Check

It's been nearly two months since I was offered a job, and I'm still in the process of getting all of the contingencies taken care of before I can start work.

Today I can report that I passed the background check. Tomorrow I will pick up the paperwork for a drug screen.

I think I'm getting close!

Learning from Paul

We had a real treat in church today. All of the men and boys 12 and up in the congregation were invited to the front of the chapel to sing for the rest of us. What made it particularly special was that they were led by Paul, a man with Down Syndrome. Because he was leading the music, his back was turned to us, but I heard many reports afterward that he had a broad smile on his face as they sang.

Paul often has a smile on his face, so it was easy to picture.

After church, I helped Jack with some memorization work he needs to complete as he turns 12 in a few days and graduates from Primary (children's Sunday School).

We finished our work with the LDS 13th Article of Faith, which draws in part from the teachings of the apostle Paul in Philippians 4:8 - " . . . whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."

Brother Paul, who joyously led men singing with a heart full of hope and faith, is an embodiment of the things apostle Paul was referring to.

Thank you, Paul and Paul. I will think on these things.

Squalls, Blocks and Bok Boks

For the second time this week, I experienced a huge rainstorm followed by a chicken sighting. Apparently that sequence of events is no longer new or out of the ordinary. But this time the rainstorm and the chickens were bookends for a very unusual event.

This afternoon we headed up to Salt Lake City in a furious downpour to attend a special party hosted by our niece Megan and her husband Scott. They had ordered an entire case of Lego minifigures (60 of them!) and also invited another family who are mutual friends of ours. We spent a blissful afternoon divvying up the stash, snarfing pizza and tasty Lego cookies that Megan made with mini marshmallows and brightly colored icing, and watching an animated Lego movie.


Jack scored an entire set plus a few extra sailors. His birthday has clearly begun four days early.


Just as we were about to leave, Megan mentioned that her parents now have chickens. Chickens! Since they only lived a couple of blocks away, we had to go see them before heading home.


I've never seen such an exceptional chicken coop in such a lovely setting.

"These Things Are Fun, and Fun Is Good"

Dr. Seuss was right: Fun is good, and lucky us had fun tonight!

First, Jack and I helped Roger take pictures of our friend Johnny and his pals--twelve couples in all, heading off to their Senior Ball.

After dinner at Five Guys, we headed to BYU to see a musical. We got there a bit early and discovered two Steinway grand pianos in a classroom. They were just right there, the pair. We had to play them.

Then we enjoyed watching Seussical the Musical from way up high in balcony seats. Jack wasn't sure he heard us right. Up high or a pie?

When the play was over, we headed to Baskin-Robbins for three of their 31 flavors. On our way home, we drove by Jimmy's Love Bug and discovered this amazingly pristine throwback. Of course the bus wasn't for us, but it was fun to see and fun is good!

Minds Will Soar

Note: This post was meant to go up yesterday (May 12) but Blogger was down.

As a member of the Library Board, I had the opportunity to tour the new library today! It is thrilling to see this new library come to fruition, and I think Springville will be a stronger community for it.

We are so lucky that we already have an amazing library despite the leaky, deteriorating, impossible-to-temperature-control space it is crammed into right now. Did you know that Springville Library recently beat Orem and Provo as best library in Utah County in a vote by Daily Herald readers?

Just imagine the possibilities that will be unleashed when the new library opens!

I believe so strongly in the concept of public libraries, which provide access to a wealth of information and knowledge to all citizens, regardless of their means. I also believe strongly in the power of beautiful architectural design to elevate our spirits and minds. I am thankful for all of the people who share these beliefs and are helping to make it possible.

We are an aspiring, forward-thinking people who are destined to achieve great things!

Out with the Old, In with the New

Thought it was about time to get some new shoes if I'm going to be serious about getting in shape for a 5k at the end of the month.

The shoes I've been using are literally older than Jack. Yeah. Not so good for the feet.

In fact, I probably should have invested in better shoes than I did today for the sake of my feet (and knees, and hips, and back), but I'm still reeling from the outsized bill I paid to reclaim our cats from the vet this afternoon.

Why is it that we humans are inclined to invest more in our loved ones than we invest in ourselves? This might be part of the answer: I read a review just today of Tom Shadyac's new documentary I Am, which sounds intriguing (do take a couple of minutes and watch the trailer). One tidbit Shadyac shares in the review is that Charles Darwin's The Descent of Man mentions "love" 95 times and "survival of fittest" just twice.

I say let's keep evolving!

The Past Is Gone*

I was the lucky recipient of an invitation to a ladies' luncheon in honor of my friend and neighbor Ora's 95th birthday today. Ladies' luncheons are very lovely, and this was no exception.

Our hostess had each of us take a coin from a dish, and we went around the circle sharing a bit about what we were up to the year our coin was minted. My year was 1985, the year I graduated from college, started grad school, worked in DC for the summer, and met Roger.

Everyone had something fun to share. In 1965, Dorothy's youngest child started school and her husband spent time commuting from their home in southern California to Palo Alto to help develop the communications system for the moon landing. In 1997, Shirlene's son Nick was born in Samoa. In 1999, Patrice helped an Albanian dancer get a student visa so she could study ballet, an opportunity that wasn't available to her in Albania at the time.

And our birthday girl? In 1976, Ora had recently retired from work and moved to Springville. She loved her house in California so much that she had the same house built here, except that the layout of the lot required her to build a mirror image. It took her a while to get used to living backwards.

*Title comes from the song Dream On, which I had a really hard time not singing out loud to when it played on my ipod during my walk today. Okay, I may have sung out loud a little bit.

From Foul to Fowl

Today was a strange day from start to finish. I had something on my mind that kept me up late last night and got me up too early this morning, so maybe I saw everything through the lens of five hours of sleep. Or maybe it was the pouring rain we had for much of the day. Or maybe it was that I accidentally ended up stranded at home without a key for the car we borrowed while our Jeep is in the shop (thanks, Aunt Carol, for the emergency ride to Jack's school when we discovered we were keyless this morning!).

Here's just one odd example: After Roger got home and the weather looked more stable, I bundled up in my winter coat (May 9th!) and went for a long walk. Near the halfway point I thought I heard turkeys gobbling. I looked around, and sure enough there were turkeys wandering in someone's side yard. After I crossed Hobble Creek, I looked up and saw four chickens sauntering across the road, taking their sweet time, stopping traffic.

Yes, it was a strange day today.

Welcome!

Can't think of a better treat on Mother's Day than to welcome a new little one into the family. Congratulations to our nephew Eric, his wife Cambria and little baby William who made his grand entrance this morning!

Reaching Toward Heaven

To be honest, I often struggle with the tendency of human beings (and by extension organized religion) toward dogmatism and a drive to conform in ways that seem to diminish God. Today, however, I was reminded over and over why I stay committed to my spiritual journey.

This morning I went for a run and decided to push myself much harder than I originally planned to. I ended up exceeding my expectations and was reminded of Marianne Williamson's well known quote that begins, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world."

In my mind, the idea of being a child of God--of having divinity within us--is about stretching ourselves beyond our own limited ideas of who we are and what we think we are capable of. It's an evolutionary force that ultimately enables us to transcend our physical circumstances. I believe that great things have and will come about because of this, but the idea also manifests itself in the simplest of things, like being calm and generous in spirit when the passenger sitting next to you on a plane is having a tough time with a screaming baby or getting to the top of the hill when you think your legs can't carry you another step.

Early this afternoon, I went to a funeral for my friend's mother, who I never met (but wish I had when I discovered she was to be buried in shiny red coffin in lieu of being buried in the shiny red Corvette she loved). When the bishop spoke at the end of the service, he reminded us that we are beloved children of God the Father and God the Mother. In my grasping faith, I am comforted by the Mormon idea of the feminine divine and was glad to hear it spoken at the pulpit today.

Late this afternoon, Roger, Jack and I went up to the top of West Mountain for a picnic dinner. When we drove over the crest of the first peak, we caught a view of BYU's observatories. I love that Mormonism embraces truth wherever it is found and that the sciences are no exception. We believe that we are meant to learn everything we can about what is in the heavens, in the earth and under the earth. Personally, I think God is thrilled with the progress people have made in figuring out geological processes, laws of physics, evolutionary biology, and genetics. And, of course, astronomical objects and phenomena.

When the sun went down, we came off the mountain and stopped by the shore of Utah Lake. Jack gave me a big hug as we watched the waves crash on the breakwater.

A perfect reminder of why I reach toward heaven.

What?!

I recently decided that I need to focus on losing some weight and getting into better shape. I've been very good about exercising all week, so I thought I'd get on the scale this morning. It's been several months since I weighed myself, and since I wasn't particularly active over the winter, I figured I'd weigh at least as much now as I did then. Maybe even a little more.

Was I ever wrong!

I actually weigh 15 pounds less than I had mentally prepared myself to expect. I repeat, I weigh 15 pounds less than I expected. That, my friends, has never happened to me before, ever.

So what am I going to do now? Why, I think I'll set an actual goal: Lose 30 pounds before my 30th high school reunion in late July. And I think I'll start a new (temporary) blog to keep me accountable.

I'm feeling fired up! (Though I must say I'd feel a bit more fired up if my belly wasn't groaning with all of the Mexican food I filled it up with tonight when Roger and I went out to dinner . . . )

The Matter of Words

After school today, I took Jack to the BYU Museum of Art to see if we could get into the Carl Bloch exhibition, which ends Saturday. Of course it's been there for six months, but we headed there at the last minute hoping for standby tickets. I'm not particularly good at planning ahead.

Luckily we got in. I was very glad to see it, but no time to revel. Jack was pulling on my hand the entire time, impatient to move on to other things.

Like this stunning sculpture made by artist Adam Bateman with more than 100,000 books in an exhibition called The Matter of Words.

It is really, really worth seeing in person. And it will be there for seven more months, so you don't have to plan ahead until the end of November.

Dedicated

In the past few days one of my high school classmates and one of my neighbors lost their moms, one quite suddenly and one after a long struggle with her health. Their heartache became even more real to me when I got the news a few days ago that my own mother was in the ICU. She's okay now, home and on medication that should prevent further incident, but it has all been a stark reminder that life can be unpredictable and fragile.

Today I spent time working on Mother's Day gifts for three of our nephew's wives, who will be celebrating their very first Mother's Day as moms themselves. It was comforting to revel in the hope and joy and promise of their adventures with their growing families. It reminded me of the feeling I had on the Mother's Day just days before Jack was born, and how excited I was to know him and to be his mom.

Moms and their children. Children and their moms. Crazy, wonderful, life-affirming relationships that stretch our hearts in all sorts of ways.

Mom, this blog post is dedicated to you. Thank you for being so dedicated to our family, especially when we cause trouble. I love you and please stick around for a long time!

Amendment

I thought I might write about renewing a library book online for the first time today. Such a great thing to be able to do.

But then I did something far more interesting.

As a reward for stepping up to a challenge yesterday, I offered to give Jack a ride someplace he'd like to go. He usually picks somewhere he can go to get rid of money that is burning a hole in his pocket. Just like the last time, he wanted to go to the coin shop.

But on our way there, he changed his mind.

He wanted to go to Discount Guns & Ammo to buy brass cannon shells to add to his shell collection instead. We had to call Roger for directions because I'd never even heard of the place, which turned out to be deep in the heart of the East Bay industrial park.

Despite being married to a gun owner (who is also a registered Democrat; I adore complexity!), I don't usually spend time in gun shops. The closest I come is when we go to Cabella's, where I sit on a bench reading a book while the boys browse. And prettified Cabella's may sell guns, but Discount Guns & Ammo is the real deal. Let's just say I didn't tell anyone there that the library book I renewed this morning was Jimmy Carter's White House Diary.

Me? I suppose target practice is fun, but I'd rather whack a tennis ball. Same kind of satisfaction, it's a whole lot cheaper, and my right to own a tennis racket or carry it on my person is never questioned. As long as I'm a responsible player, of course.

A Beginning

Two major family events + lots of cameras = a painful reminder that I live in denial. Time to make a change.

I am determined to run the Live wElle 5k, which was established in memory of a young girl named Elle by her parents, who are positively inspirational.

Today I checked out the 3.8 mile route I will train on until the race. It took me a few minutes more than an hour to walk it. Tomorrow I will start running part of it and work up from there.

While I have absolutely no claim on being consistent, I'm not a total stranger to running. I've even run a couple of 5k races before. A few years ago I ran the Live wElle 5k, and back in the late 90s I ran the Rex Lee Run.

One of my favorite memories of the Rex Lee Run was before the race. I overheard a couple of women talking in the restroom, and one very earnestly asked the other, "Do I look like a runner?" Boy, did I relate.

I want to run the 5k--not walk it. And I want to look like a runner doing it. Even for the cameras.

In and Out of Jams

It's a new feeling living in the world without Osama Bin Laden in it. It hasn't really sunk in yet. I'm watching a spontaneous gathering of crowds cheering on the streets of New York and Washington, DC as I write this. A profound sense of relief and national unity, though I'm not sure about feeling gleeful.

Speaking of Washington, DC, I learned something new today. I was reading an announcement in our church newsletter about our local cannery offering strawberry and marionberry jams in May.

I have never heard of marionberry jam. I thought, "The former mayor of DC is in a jam? Again?" Oh, wait. That's Barry, not Berry.

And then I discovered Robert Marion Berry, who served in the U.S. House of Representatives. Here's my favorite line from the Wikipedia page about him: "This article is about the former U.S. House member. For the former mayor of Washington, DC, see Marion Barry. For the fruit, see Marionberry."

So I saw Marionberry and found this impressive pedigree. I'm very curious now. I might have to order some of that jam.

Raspberry

Blackberry

Dewberry

Pacific blackberry (Rubus ursinus)

Loganberry

Youngberry

Himalayan blackberry (Rubus armeniacus)

Santiam berry

Chehalem blackberry

Olallieberry

Marionberry